AN: Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/favorited/followed State of Grace (and the entire Into the Blue trilogy). I miss updating that series already!

Here's the final (I think) chapter for Shiver. I know I had promised it to you guys a while ago, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.

Shiver

For the first time in what feels like years, I sleep through the night.

Well, most of it. I wake up just before dawn, Lisbon's breath tickling my neck, and I know she's already awake, has been for some time. Strange.

She hasn't pulled away. Instead, she's still next to me, still tucked against my side. It's not what I had expected.

I don't know how to handle the revelation.

So I just lay there for a few minutes, acutely aware of every point of contact between her body and my own.

At some point during the night, the first two buttons on my shirt had come undone, and as Lisbon shifts against me now, her cheek rests against the bare skin of my chest. This particular contact of her skin upon my own is what ultimately does me in—I'm not used to this level of intimacy, and with Lisbon, it frightens me. I breathe in sharply.

"Shhh," says Lisbon immediately, responding to the new tension in my body as I become aware of my surroundings. "It's alright; you're alright."

I open my eyes and find her office is still dark. Though by the looks of it, dawn is about to break at any second.

Our eyes meet, and I catch my breath again. Even barely awake, Lisbon is radiant—all red lips and bright eyes.

"You're still here." It's obvious, but I can't think of anything else to say.

She props herself up on my chest so that she can look down at me. "Yeah," she says. "I am." She ducks her head suddenly, and I can see the blush that colors her cheeks.

"I'm glad," I say, and I'm rewarded with a tentative, unsure smile.

"Me too," is her reply, and my heart begins to thump forcefully under her hand.

She notices.

Lisbon looks down at my chest curiously, as though surprised to find my heart is still functional after all these years, after the beating it has taken. I watch her with the same curiosity, and I can pinpoint the exact moment I know she's up to something.

She leans toward me, keeping her hand over my heart, and brings her lips down to mine.

My heart begins to beat faster still.

Lisbon continues to move closer, until our lips barely touch. It's not a kiss; it's a caress. My heart thumps loudly, embarrassingly, betrayingly, underneath her hand.

"I thought so," she says, her lips moving against mine.

My heart explodes, and I can feel her smile against me.

"Discover what you were hoping for?" I ask, my tone far more confident that I actually am. I don't give her time to answer, instead grabbing her hips and switching our positions so that her back is pressed into the couch and I hover over her. She nods underneath me. "Well, then," I say, and this time I put my hand on her chest to feel her heartbeat.

It's firm and steady.

But as I close the distance between us, it becomes increasingly erratic.

She moans as our lips connect for real this time, and her heart skips under my hand. Without thinking about it, my fingers begin to work on the buttons of her shirt, exposing porcelain skin.

Unable to stand the distance between us, I lower myself so that she's pinned between me and the couch, her entire body flush against mine. She moans again, and she whispers my name into the silence.

"Patrick."

I freeze. Then I retreat, and suddenly I'm across the room, my back leaning against cool glass. I breathe heavily, and Lisbon sits up, looking confused. Her lips are swollen. I can't meet her eyes.

"Jane?"

I shake my head, feeling panicky, and slide down against the glass so that I'm sitting on the floor. "I can't," I whisper. "I'm sorry—I can't."

She quickly buttons up her shirt and smooths down her hair. In typical Lisbon fashion, she is unconcerned with how I've just hurt her—instead, she is solely focused on me.

Because she's seen the look of panic on my face, and she knows that something is wrong.

She moves over to me slowly and kneels down in front of me. I pull my knees up to my chest and duck my head.

"Jane?" she says again, this time a little softer.

I'm still breathing deeply as I answer her. "Sorry," I mumble. "It's just that—" I exhale loudly. This is going to be more difficult than I'd thought.

I try again. "It's just been a long time," I finally manage. "I mean, since anyone has said my name like that. Like…like I matter. Or like I belong to them. I'd forgotten what it felt like—it was overwhelming, that's all."

I lean my head forward on my knees again, and one of Lisbon's hands comes up to run through my hair.

"And?" she prompts.

There's nothing for it—I can't hide from her.

I sigh again. "It was real," I mumble to my kneecaps, my words muffled. "But it can't be real, what we're feeling right now—because if it was, he'd find out, and he'd take you away and I couldn't survive that again—and oh God, Lisbon, he can't have you, too."

The words pour out of me, falling around us like summer rain, and the room feels like it's quaking before I realize that it's me who's trembling.

And then I feel warmth. Lisbon has moved over to sit beside me, and her arms encircle me. My forehead still rests on my knees.

I feel Lisbon's lips on the nape of my neck, and I can't help the involuntary shiver that races down my spine. Lisbon breathes out slowly, and I look up at her.

"That sounded like a sigh of relief," I note, confused, and I search her face for answers but find none.

"That's because it was," she says quietly.

I blink at her. "You're relieved?" I say. "After that major freak-out I just had—you're relieved?"

"I can handle Red John," explains Lisbon softly. "If you'd panicked because you weren't ready to move on, or because you were thinking of Angela—well, there's nothing I can do about that."

"No," I say forcefully. "No, it wasn't about that. I'm ready to move on—I want to move on. More to the point, I want to move on with you." I look over at her, and her image is blurry. I blink but only succeed in spilling the tears over onto my face rather than dispelling them. "I want to move on, Lisbon, but I can't. I can't as long as Red John is a threat."

Her eyebrows furrow, and from the intensity of her glare I get the feeling that she's waited a long time to have this conversation with me.

"Why the hell not?" she says.

"You know why," I whisper.

Lisbon leans back, and her head bangs against the glass slightly harder than I think she had intended. "Damn it, Jane—that's not a good enough reason!"

I look over at her, aghast. "Really?" I say, not bothering to hide the sarcasm dripping from my words. "Saving your life isn't a good enough reason not to be together?"

Her eyes flash at me. "It might not make a difference," she says furiously. "What if he kills me anyway, despite your attempts to push me away? Then we'd miss out on all that happiness, Jane! We walk through the damn darkness every single day. Don't you think we deserve some light?"

"Of course you do, Lisbon," I say, my words shaky. "Of course you do."

"You do, too, Jane!" Lisbon says, and she groans. I can practically feel the frustration emanating from her. "I'm so tired of living in a world ruled by Red John. Why can't we make the rules now? Jane, he took your life away from you once before—don't let him do it again."

She's nearly broken my defenses, and she knows it. I look over at her helplessly.

"If we were together, and something happened to you…" I trail off, not able to complete the thought.

"It wouldn't be your fault—or mine. You have to accept that." She swipes at a couple of teardrops. "We could be so happy, Jane," she says, half-smiling at me, and I know she's picturing a future—our future.

"I don't know if I could live with myself if something happened," I say, one last feeble attempt to argue against her.

"But you would have lived," says Lisbon emphatically. "No matter what happens to me, you would have lived, you would have loved, and you would have been loved. And that's something that Red John can't take away from you—it's something he'll never be able to understand."

The last of the walls crumble, and her warmth rushes in to surround me.

"You love me?" I ask, stupefied.

She rolls her eyes and wipes away another tear. "Of course I do, Jane. How could you not know by now?"

I take her into my arms then, terrified and elated and petrified all at the same time. When her lips touch mine, I finally begin to understand what she's been trying to tell me.

I love Lisbon, and it's long past time that I be able to do so freely.

I pull back from her, and I rest my forehead against hers, unable to open my eyes just yet. When I finally do, Lisbon is staring at me, her eyes locked on mine.

"I love you, too," I say out loud for the first time in years.

Lisbon smiles and I shiver as the words echo around us.