I am so sorry for a delay! I accidentally lost track of when was the last time I updated this! A couple of days ago I saw: JANUARY and believe me, I was mad at myself. Yes, I've done a whole lot worse when it comes to updating (such as "The Immortals" for instance) but I'm hoping to work on that soon, but please don't take my word on it!

Disclaimer: It's currently on my birthday list, but I doubt I'll get it. But hey, a girl can dream!

Once Lost, Now Found

Chapter Six

Lisbon folded over another blanket and plopped it down in the whicker basket by her feet. She sighed to herself as another cool breeze brushed past and pushed more strands of hair into her eyes. With a huff of breath, she pushes them aside and grabs one of Junior's shirts off of the clothesline. She turns it over and inspects where he had made that stain a couple of days ago, and is slightly disappointed to see it still there, but barely.

"God help that boy," she mumbled under her breath and quickly folded up the child's shirt and threw it down into the basket.

For the past week, Junior had been overly excited over everything. It started when Jane came into town as the artist that Minelli had hired, and since then the young boy has done nothing but chatter happily about the curly haired man. There were times where she certainly found it endearing, and times where she wanted to slap Jane upside the head for arousing such manners from Junior. If Jane were to stay – which she was hoping he would – she knew she would have to give up her sanity. Having Jane around Junior for the next several years is a warrant for massive headaches, sore throats, and stress.

"Teresa!" she jumped at the sound of a familiar voice behind her. Slowly she turned to look over her shoulder, and she almost dreaded what she saw. Seeing Walter Mashburn around here wasn't uncommon, especially when he was trying to woo her, but now it didn't seem right for some odd reason. Now that Jane was back, being around Walter just seemed…wrong.

"It's been so long since I have last seen you!" he stopped a few feet in front of her and glanced over her, "You look much better," he smiled and moved towards her to take the sides of her face into his hands and he placed a kiss on her forehead, "I can't wait to get down to business."

Right, business. They were supposed to be planning a wedding. A wedding that will 'wow' the people of Sacramento and leave all the other couples envious. It wasn't something that Lisbon wanted, and Walter somewhat seemed to notice, but he really desired a big and flashy wedding.

She tries to smile at him, but found it hard to do so, "It's great to see you too, Walter." Walter quirked his eyebrow and looked down at her. He seemed to know something was off with her, and no doubt will begin the questioning.

"What's wrong, Teresa?"

Lisbon looked away from him and moved down the clothesline. She plucked more clothespins off of the sheet and began to tug it down when Walter's hand was placed over hers. She paused and looked up at him and noticed the sincere concerned look in his eyes. She cared about Walter Mashburn, but she just didn't love him enough to want to marry him. She wanted Patrick Jane just like she always had for the past five years. Her love for him only grew, and has only enhanced almost ten fold when she saw him an hour ago – before he took Junior out to buy candy.

She forced her eyes to look up at him, "Patrick's here," she could barely say as the words choked on the back of her throat. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.

Walter just stared at her. She had told him a long time ago that she was still in love with another man named Patrick. This same Patrick had also fathered her son, Patrick Alexander Jane or better known as Junior, and whom she still loved. For years she tried to let Walter know she wouldn't marry him, and that he was competing with a ghost, and now that aforementioned "ghost" is back and alive, the engagement could soon become null and void.

"Patrick," he spoke carefully, "Junior's father? The same man that perished on the Titanic five years ago?" she nodded at him and felt tears build at the corners of her eyes, "What the hell is he doing alive in Sacramento?"

She gripped her hands tighter around the sheet and she furrowed her eyebrow. Sudden anger boiled within her at the choice of Walter's words, and she was fighting the urge to hit him. He knew this judging by the way his eyes widened under her intense gaze.

"You do not get to speak like that about him," she whirled around, her green eyes darkening with rage, "He has done nothing to you, and yet you always act like you hate him. You have not even met Patrick!"

Walter stood higher, "But I know he's trying to take away what I want and what I've been trying to gain for years," he leaned in closer to her, his eyes staring deep into hers, "And that is you, Teresa."

She straightened, "I'm not someone's prize," she told him sternly and bent down to grasp onto the handles of the basket.

Without glancing back over her shoulder, she started back towards the house. During the walk, she focused on breathing in and out in hopes of calming herself. The last thing she wanted to show to anyone was how angry and flustered she was, especially with her fiancé. She tried to shake off the anger as she walked through the door and into the kitchen. Wordlessly, she dropped the basket onto the kitchen table rather aggressively and turned on her heel and started towards the stairs. Grabbing onto the skirt, she hiked it up to keep from tripping, and moved up the stairs. When she reached the top, she nearly ran into her room, slamming the door and locking it behind her.

…

When Jane walked into the house with Junior, he was surprised to hear sudden movement upstairs, a slamming door, followed by a lock moving in place. Jane took one look down at his son, who looked up at him while munching on his cream stuffed cookie, and pushed the small boy towards the kitchen.

"I need to go talk to your mother."

Junior nods at him and moved into the kitchen. Jane watched him settle in a little by setting the bag down on the table and pulling out his favourite chair. The blond man smiled softly before looking up the staircase in the direction of his love. He sighed and began to move up the stairs, his left hand barely ghosting over the fine wood. Once he reached the top, he started off towards her bedroom. He closed his eyes upon standing in front of the door and lifted his fist upwards to softly knock on the door.

Behind the door, he heard a muffled "No," before he knocked again, this time speaking, "Teresa, it's me. Patrick," he hoped that would get something else other than a decline from her.

He heard her sigh on the other side of the door and move closer. He heard a floorboard creak underneath her footsteps before the soft click of the lock reached his ears. Jane looked forward, his eyes immediately catch onto hers as she moves the door back barely and leans against it.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she sighed quickly.

He glanced her over, and it didn't take all the knowledge in the world to know that she had been previously crying. She had taken a good handkerchief and dabbed at her cheeks before she had opened the door. Something had to have set her off enough for her to retreat into her bedroom and cry about it.

"Teresa," he whispered, "Please talk to me."

She shook her head, "It is nothing of your concern," she tried to push the door closed, but he wedged his foot between the frame and solid door.

He mentally cursed himself on impact, but regained his composure quickly, "Please Teresa, you know that you can trust me. You did so once, why not again," he pushed the door more open and stepped inside, "I love you, no matter what happens."

Lisbon looked down, her teeth chewing on the plump flesh of her lower lip, "Patrick, I love you too, but -."

"There should not be any buts!" he interrupted her, "I love you, you love me. Why are you still marrying Walter?" the shock that flickered through her eyes gave him all the information that he needed to know. Walter must have come by earlier, accosted her, and said something inappropriate.

"I don't know," she whispered.

Random fact: Did you know that Oreo cookies were founded in 1912? I didn't until I googled Oreo cookies a couple of hours ago. Yes, that was what Junior was supposed to be eating.