Author's notes:

Thank you to the great writer, critique partner, and beta reader Sue Shay! As I've mentioned before, I would not have pursued this project without her encouragement and support. Check out Sue's stories including her current project, "Ready or Not." As for the latest developments in that story, I've got two words: baseball cards!

I do not own the TV show The Mentalist and get no compensation from it. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes only.

Warning: This chapter contains adult language and dialogue.

Notes on the chapter title follow the end of the chapter.

Chapter 13: Fly Me To The Moon

Teresa stared at Patrick in his Speedos. Under the lamp light, the water clinging to him looked like a sheen of sweat, the kind someone would get from hours and hours of wild…

Stop it! Don't think about that. Okay, must…not…stare. Don't look there. Look there. No, that doesn't work either. Okay, look there. No! Especially not there. He's watching me look at him. Look at the puddle beneath him. Ah, yes, look at the puddle. That's stupid. Get a grip, Teresa. Look up at his face. Okay, I'm raising my eyes to his face. No, don't…stop…there. Or there. Yes, there's his face. The lamp light makes it look like there's a halo around his head. Aww, the curls in his hair are dripping. The droplets are running down his shoulders onto his chest. He looks so adorable I just want to… Stop it!

"Something on your mind, Teresa?" Patrick repeated himself. Teresa heard his voice and decided to focus on his mouth.

Focus on his mouth. Yes. On his lips. Those lips that would feel so good to have…Stop it, stop it, stop it! Get control of yourself. He's looking at me like he's worried.

"Ahm."

Okay, that's a start. At least I made a sound.

Now Patrick's face softened. He raised his hand. Teresa watched as if it were slow motion as he reached across to touch her elbow. Her breath caught.

His…hand…is…on…my…elbow. His…hand…is…on…my…elbow. His…hand…is…on…my…elbow.

"Something on your mind?"

That's the third time he's asked me the same thing. I must say something. Think of something to say… Something to say… Think of something…

"Breaking and entering."

"What?" he asked. He dropped his hand from her arm.

What? From what part of my brain did that come from? Well, I gotta go with it since I spoke it.

"I said 'breaking and entering,' Patrick."

"Breaking and entering. That's what's on your mind?"

Why is he smiling like that? Now he's making me mad. And flustered. I want to reach over to grab him and… Stop it!

Teresa sucked in a big gulp of air.

"Yes. Breaking and entering. You're obviously not a member here. You entered the premises outside of regular business hours. You're trespassing."

"Said the pot to the kettle."

She exhaled and let her shoulders slump.

"Alright, I was curious about where you went at 4:30 in the morning." She held her hand up to get him to wipe off the smirk that had formed across his face. "And yes, I used those lock-picking skills of mine to get in. So now I know the sordid secret of Patrick Jane. He likes to swim in the middle of the night."

"It's good exercise. I've always enjoyed it. When I first came over here, I saw that this fitness center had a pool. As a temporary resident, I thought I'd avail myself of the facilities."

"At 4:30am?"

"What can I say? I avoid the crowds at an off-peak hour like this. So, are you gonna arrest me, Agent Lisbon?"

"No, but I'm putting you under surveillance."

"Under surveillance?" Now his eyes were crinkling as he spoke.

He's enjoying this far too much.

"Yes, under surveillance. I'll just sit down over here on this lounge chair. Continue swimming laps, Mr. Jane." She waved with the back of her hand for him to enter the pool again as she stretched out on the lounge chair.

"'Mr. Jane' huh? You make me sound so criminal."

"Get back in the pool before I change my mind."

Patrick plopped back in. With a languid motion he assumed a position on his back again as his arms reached behind him in powerful strokes. His chest jutted up above the water while his legs fluttered in continuous rhythm. Teresa kept her eyes riveted on him as he made his way down to the far end, reversed course, and swam back to her end. When he finished that lap, he raised his head above the water to speak to her.

"You can join me if you want."

Teresa laughed.

"But I don't have my bathing suit with me."

"You don't have to have one. It's clothing-optional at this hour, don't you think? Certainly I won't tell anyone."

I wonder if he can tell how deeply I must be blushing.

"Patrick!"

"If it would make you feel more comfortable, I can take off my swim trunks."

I'm glad I'm sitting down. I feel so light-headed.

She raised her cell phone as if to sling it at him. After making an exaggerated ducking motion, he resumed swimming.

As they walked back to the condo in silence, the street lamps were dimming as the sky lightened. Teresa would steal a look at her companion, and more likely than not she caught Patrick looking her way as well. His hair was mostly dry, but some of it matted against his head in a boyish way. He looked happy, and that made her happy as well.

She had raised her eyes to look at him again when something got her attention. The two of them were passing by an outdoor staircase, and she pulled Patrick under it into the shadows with her. His eye brows knotted in confusion.

"What's wrong, Teresa?"

"I just saw a car pass by."

"And…"

"And I think I saw Luther Wainwright driving it."

"Wait a minute. Did you alert the agent du jour on watch that you were following me to the fitness center?"

"No. It's easy to give them the slip. I found that out yesterday."

"Did Wainwright call your cell phone?"

Teresa checked.

"No."

Patrick pulled out his own phone from his overcoat.

"He didn't call me either. Wainwright was upset with the agent who let you slip away the other day. I guess he came to give today's agent a surprise inspection."

"I feel sorry for the guy then."

"Well, the more time Wainwright spends with the security detail, the less time he spends with us and your team. That's a good thing."

Patrick motioned for Teresa to follow him out of the shadows and they resumed their walk back to the condo.

After a breakfast of bacon and eggs, Teresa accompanied Patrick to work at the CBI building. Human Resources had called her the day before about signing some paperwork for her medical leave. Once there, the two split apart with a promise to get together mid-morning for a coffee-and-tea break.

She finished the paperwork in H.R. faster than expected. With time on her hands, she wandered back to her team's bullpen area. What she saw through the open door of a nearby conference room surprised her. Seated around a table were Patrick, her Three Musketeers, and Luther Wainwright. A voice from a speakerphone in the middle of the table had captured the attention of all five of them.

"Mr. Jane, I've been thinking about your call to me. I'm not sure I want to meet with you today. I don't think you're representing Teresa Lisbon at all. I think you're just trying to trap an innocent man so you can get an arrest in a case. And even if I were hypothetically the person who did all the things you claim I did, why should I come meet you?"

Teresa knew at once that Tom Wilcox was the caller. Patrick hit the mute button on the phone so Wilcox couldn't hear anything from the CBI end.

"Jane, Cho, I told you your plan was problematic." Wainwright glared at the two men while he spoke.

"Just have patience. Let me work through this," Patrick replied.

"I can hear the suspicion in Wilcox' voice. You can't deny you don't hear it as well. This whole case is gonna blow up."

Teresa's blood boiled at what she heard.

Enough of this! Even if I don't remember anything, I won't have Wainwright question the ability of my team and my Patrick. They don't deserve that.

Teresa stomped through the door into the room, glared at Wainwright, and slapped the button to un-mute the speaker phone. The five people around the table were too stunned to move.

"Tom Wilcox, this is Teresa Lisbon. We've met before under different circumstances."

"We have?"

This guy may be a first-time criminal, but he's still cagey.

"You and I both know that, but I won't dwell on that right now. What I will dwell on is your meeting with Patrick Jane this afternoon. He's working on my behalf."

"Why should I meet with him?"

"Because it's in your best interests, and I don't think you're stupid. I told Jane to set up the meeting."

"Okay, I'll come to the downtown park this afternoon."

"Good."

Teresa scanned the people at the table, and she saw nods of approval. Van Pelt even gave her the thumbs up sign.

"But one condition. I want you to meet with me."

All of the nods around the table turned to vigorous head shakes of "no" in an instant. Teresa slapped the mute button again to talk to the five at the table.

"I can do this." Again she hit the mute button to speak to Wilcox. "I'll be there, but the price of cooperation has gone up. You'll find me a tougher negotiator than Jane. See ya then."

She hit the call-end button and a dial tone sounded.

The stupor over the five people around the table lingered a few moments until Patrick stood up and marched around the table to stand in front of Teresa. His face reddened.

"Absolutely not." He fisted his hands as he placed them on his hips. "You will not get involved in this gag. I mean sting."

"Things didn't seem to be going well for you until I spoke up." Teresa matched Patrick's fists-on-hips gesture as the two of them glared at each other.

"I was in the process of working it out. Wilcox would have eventually come around."

"Eventually, huh. When? Next week? Next month? The way I see it I salvaged your gag. You should be thanking me."

"I forbid you to go to that meeting this afternoon." Patrick leaned over slightly to get right in Teresa's face.

"I got news for you. It's out of your hands. I invited myself to your little soiree."

"No. You have no business being there. Not in your condition."

"Condition?"

"Yes. Your mental faculties aren't working right now."

Teresa heard a gasp in unison from Van Pelt and Rigsby. Rigsby spoke up.

"Ahhhh, Jane, did you really want to say that?"

Patrick turned his attention to Rigsby.

"You stay out of this, Rigsby." He turned back to glare at Teresa again. "I forbid you from putting yourself at risk. I won't allow it. The meeting with Wilcox calls for quick thinking, someone at the top of his game. Someone who can project a sense of power, who can intimidate. My dear, you need to steer clear of something like that while you're in this condition."

Why is it I want to punch him in the face then kiss him to make it feel better?

As she felt the steam rise inside her, she saw Van Pelt tug Patrick's coat.

"Jane, you're really digging a deep one with the Boss right now. You do know you're losing, don't you?"

"Am I the only sane person here right now? Teresa cannot participate in this sting."

"Yes, she can." The voice of Luther Wainwright got everybody's attention. "Agent Lisbon, are you convinced you can pull off a meeting with Tom Wilcox this afternoon? Do you think you have enough savvy to do this right now?"

"I can, sir. No matter what Patrick Jane thinks."

Wainwright looked at the two of them before speaking again.

"Very good. Agent Lisbon, you and Jane go ahead. The two of you plan to meet Wilcox…together. I leave the overall operation in Agent Cho's capable hands. Call me if you need me." Wainwright stood up, smiled at the group, and skedaddled to the elevator.

The Three Musketeers had all directed their attention to Wainwright while Teresa and Patrick still glowered at each other. Teresa took the private moment between the two of them to stick out her tongue at Patrick.

Teresa and Patrick sat in a wordless funk during their coffee-and-tea break and later during lunch. The tension in the air between them upset her but she was not about to give in. She knew that she could handle this "gag" as Patrick called it. She was less sure she could handle the stony silence between the two of them.

When they returned from lunch, the team began the whirlwind of preparations. Van Pelt took charge of Teresa and brought her over to the three CBI personnel from the technology department, the techies as she called them. The techies, Gladys, Herb, and Conrad their supervisor, wired Teresa up. After testing her setup, Conrad pronounced her ready-to-go.

Teresa noticed the Three Musketeers get ready as well. After wiring, Van Pelt changed into the uniform of a delivery service. Rigsby appeared from a dressing room wearing a San Francisco 49ers T-shirt and jeans. Cho was the only one who didn't put on a disguise, but she saw him assemble a high-powered rifle. As she watched, his last step was to adjust the scope. His actions convinced her that he knew all about sniping. If he had Wilcox in his sights the whole time of the meeting, she felt safer already.

The last team member to get ready was Patrick. Herb and Gladys started to joke with Patrick like that was what they normally did. Teresa could tell the two techies felt comfortable around him and expected him to act the same way with them.

Not today. Herb cracked a joke about fake blood but Patrick scowled at him. Herb and Gladys glanced at each other and fell silent. Patrick acted like a robot, raising his arms when told to and lifting his collar as directed.

When everyone was ready, the Three Musketeers, the three techies, Patrick, and Teresa all went over to the park.

"We need a sound check, Agent Lisbon. Could you speak a few words to us?"

The disembodied voice startled Teresa, but she realized it was Herb the techie checking out her system.

"Yes. Do you hear me alright?"

"Affirmative. Thank you."

Teresa then heard Herb go around to check out the Three Musketeers and lastly Patrick. When he asked for a sound check, Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt all responded in a crisp manner. Patrick was another story.

"Are you there, Mr. Jane?"

"Yes."

"Could you say more than one word, Mr. Jane? It will help get a reading."

"No."

Teresa couldn't believe he was behaving in so childish a manner.

"Sheep dip!" she said out loud.

"Wow, Agent Lisbon. That was loud enough we'll have to recalibrate our settings for you," Gladys said.

"You do that. But first I want this horse's ass standing beside me to say more than one word for you."

Patrick glared at her again, and she answered in kind. His nostrils flared as he shook his finger at her.

"You have recklessly endangered yourself, Teresa. You inserted yourself where you don't belong. I don't care what you or Wainwright think, you have no business being here right now."

"Herb, did he say enough for your sound check?" Teresa asked.

"Affirmative, Agent Lisbon. Thank you very much for getting the horse's ass to speak up for us."

The wireless transmitter immediately filled up with laughter from everyone else except Patrick.

"Knock it off everyone. I just sighted Wilcox. He's parking his car at the north end of the park." Cho's stern voice made all the others fall silent. "Rigsby, do you see him?"

"I spotted him, Cho. He's walking in beside the soccer field."

"Okay. Van Pelt, are you in position?"

"Affirmative, Cho."

"Good. Now it's time for Lisbon and the horse's ass to move over to the park bench."

Teresa heard a series of titters erupt across the ether.

"Agent Cho, he and I are moving now." She tapped Patrick's arm and they commenced walking to the meeting spot.

"I still think you needed to stay out of this," said Patrick.

"And I'm glad I'm along."

"I hope you and I both get out of this alive, Lisbon."

"Lisbon, huh. So now I'm your boss again, Jane?"

"It sure seems that way, whether you've got your memory or not."

"Good. I like having a little control over you, although I kinda liked hearing you call me 'Teresa'."

"Well, since we're getting some things out in the open, I've enjoyed calling you 'Teresa,' and I liked it when you called me 'Patrick.'"

"I like saying 'Patrick.' I'll bet no one calls you by your first name very much."

"No one much since Angela."

"Well I feel honored to be in that company."

"Okay, Wilcox is coming your way now. Remember, if he pulls a gun you both drop to the ground."

"You heard Cho say that, didn't you? Wilcox may be armed. If he tried to kill you before, he won't hesitate to do so again if he thinks he can get away with it."

Teresa decided to ignore that last remark from Patrick. A different subject was on her mind.

"Listen, on the off chance that this works out, if we actually survive this little shindig, I want to celebrate," she said.

"This is hardly the time to be thinking about a celebration."

"Patrick, I want you to promise me something."

"Anything, if you'll just concentrate on Wilcox right now."

"Okay. If we get out of this alive…"

"And that's about the best outcome that I can think of right now by the way."

"Hush. If we get out of this alive, I want you to take me out dancing tomorrow night. Will you, Patrick?"

"You what?"

"She what?"

"Shut up, Rigsby, you're confusing things here."

"I think that's sweet. You should do what she's asking, Paaaaaatriiiiiick."

"You shut up too, Van Pelt."

"You know, all these voices in my head are confusing me so much, I just might make a wrong move. What would help poor little old me is if the rest of you would hush so he can answer my question. So, Patrick, will you take me out dancing tomorrow night? May I remind you that Wilcox is almost here."

"Yes, yes, yes. I, Patrick Jane, will take you, Teresa Lisbon, dancing tomorrow night if we survive this meeting. Now can you concentrate on the task at hand?"

"Ah, that's sweet."

"Shut up, Van Pelt."

"Don't talk to her like that. That's not all. I want you to do three things for our date."

"I can see Wilcox beside the playground. He's almost here."

"That means we don't have a lot of time so listen to me. For our date I want you to run the Blue Turtle through a car wash, put on that red tie, and wear your new black shoes. So, will you do all those things?"

Patrick and Teresa stared at each other as a message, unspoken yet ice-breaking, passed between them. At the same instant they smiled at each other.

"Blue Turtle, red tie, black shoes. I got it." He reached over to pat her on the shoulder.

"Good. Let's go. Follow my lead."

"What?" Now Patrick got a mystified look on his face.

"I may not have my memory, but I've got a hunch about how to handle this guy. It's not 100% certain, so the team needs to be ready to jump in if things go wrong. Are you guys ready?"

Three "affirmatives" sounded across the ether.

As Wilcox neared them his eyes flitted from one place to another. Teresa saw patches of sweat staining his underarms, and he mopped his brow with a hankie.

This guy is really nervous. That could be good or bad or both.

Once he came up to the two of them, he stared at Patrick. For his part, Patrick didn't flinch. He maintained a confident gaze, gently rocking back and forth on his feet.

"Patrick Jane, I presume?"

"Indeed, sir."

Wilcox looked over at Teresa.

"I thought it was just you and me meeting, Agent Lisbon. I thought I had dispensed with your flunky."

Teresa decided to adopt the confident, slightly arrogant stance of her partner.

"Jane? You mean Stud Service here. Nope. We're a team, a package deal."

"Is that so?" Wilcox' tone took on menace, and Patrick's eyes signaled Teresa to note the gun-shaped bulge in his side pocket.

In for a penny, in for a pound. I gotta keep this up.

"Yeah, it's so. But we're not here to talk about us, we're here to talk about you. My team's been investigating your finances lately. Your bank account over the last year looks like it's got a bad case of ED."

Teresa noted Patrick's shocked expression.

"Yeah, so what? A lot of people are in a pinch right now. I'm no different than other people in this economy."

"Maybe. But if that bank account or any new one suddenly looks like it's had a res-erection, then I'll have CBI agents descend on you like piranha on a water buffalo."

"So, what do you want?"

"Stud and I have had a lot of stress lately. Isn't that right?" She punched Patrick in the ribs.

"Uh, yeah. A lot of stress. Getting more stressful right now."

"Don't you worry yourself. I'll take you for ice cream after we finish meeting with this nice man." Teresa turned back to face Wilcox.

"Not my problem, Lisbon."

"Good point, but here's your problem: you don't want to have CBI nosing around in your life. Agents might uncover something you don't want known."

"Let's say that was the case. Hypothetically speaking, what would you want to keep silent?"

Teresa and Patrick exchanged looks.

"Stud here told me he asked for 25%."

"Dream on."

"Oh, I have been dreaming. See, Stud and I had been planning to get away. He promised me that he was gonna fly me to the moon, but that ain't gonna happen in Sacramento. When we pieced together your story, I started thinking Stud could fly me to the moon via Barbados. I did some back-of-the-envelope calculations and guess what? Half of the take from that ATM robbery will do nicely."

"Half? Just so you and your boy-toy can go off and screw under a palm tree?"

"Are we going to do that in Barbados?" Patrick asked in his most naive-sounding tone.

Teresa patted his cheek.

"What do I tell you to do in important meetings, Stud?"

"To stay quiet?"

"Good boy!" Teresa turned again to Wilcox. "Stud is a good man if you know what I mean. A really good man. But he's got shit for brains."

Teresa could tell she'd struck a nerve with Wilcox. His face had reddened.

"If I did what you say I did I wouldn't give you half the money. The whole reason I might have done that is because my family was losing our home and going into bankruptcy. I would have had a real reason, not so some bitch could take her man-whore where it's warmer."

That got a rise from Patrick.

"Wilcox, you can say what you want about me, but you will not call Agent Lisbon a…"

Teresa grabbed his arm and shook it.

"Hold on. I got this," she said as she pivoted to face Wilcox. "You're one to talk about being holier-than-thou. You shot a man dead, slit the throat of the man who saved your worthless life, and tried to give me a burial at sea. You're gonna give us half for two reasons. First, getting half is better than getting nothing. Second is because of this." Teresa fingered the ID card on Patrick's coat lapel. "Do you see what that says, Mr. Wilcox?"

"Yeah, it's 'Stud's' CBI badge," said Wilcox with a smirk.

"Look closer. That's no badge, that's just an ID. See that lettering printed across the top? It spells out 'consultant' - C-O-N-S-U-L-T-A-N-T. Stud used to work full-time for CBI. Had a badge and everything. Now he's just a consultant. You can walk over there to the CBI Building and ask at the front desk. They'll tell you that Mr. Patrick Jane is employed only as a consultant at present."

"So?"

"When he had the badge, Stud tended to get a little too involved in his work. One day we brought a guy in and - long story short - Stud got hold of him and, well, the guy can't walk anymore. No one cared much about the man himself, the guy was a wife-beater so he wasn't gonna get any sympathy. Still, the brass at CBI got all antsy about bad publicity so they cashiered Stud. But I at least negotiated the Consultant gig for him. That way I keep an eye on him too. When I don't need him for a case - or for his other services - he sleeps on the couch in my area. Ask anyone on the 3rd floor at the CBI Building, they'll tell you where I keep him."

"I'm not buying any of this, Lisbon. Tell you what. Hypothetically speaking, if I were the one who did those things you claim I did, I'd cut you in for 10%. No more."

"Mr. Wilcox, you need to know three things about me. One is I figure out all the angles ahead of time including how much my silence is worth. The second is I don't let some white-bread from the suburbs with an underwater mortgage who's in over his head control a situation. That's where Stud here comes in handy. He's what I call leverage."

Why are both Patrick and Wilcox looking at me funny like that?

"What's the third thing, Lisbon?" asked Wilcox.

Oops. Gotta think of something else, but what?

"The third thing is…no one gives this bitch any crap-filled crackers."

"So you're saying 10% is crap-filled crackers?"

"Yep." Teresa noticed Wilcox' hand moving in the vicinity of the bulge in his pocket. "And don't think you can try anything here and get away with it. I hire a professional on occasion to help Stud and me out. Got him here in a discreet location in the park. Him and his rifle. If he sees anything go wrong, well, let's say he corrects the situation. Whatever you did to me would be the last thing you ever did."

"I don't believe you."

Teresa shrugged her shoulders.

I hope Cho listens closely.

"Need a demonstration then? Okay. My ex-military sniper and I have worked out hand signals as well. If I hold up two fingers like this - my index finger and my middle finger - the sniper paints you with his red laser. Just like on the TV shows. Oh, look! There's that little red dot on your chest."

Wilcox looked down as the red dot from Cho's rifle danced across his shirt. With a gasp he moved his hand away from his pocket.

"Good, good, good, Mr. Wilcox. You made a smart move. You don't want to see what happens if I lower my index finger and it's only my middle finger still in the air."

"Tell your man to turn off his laser."

"I will, for 50%. So, what will it be?"

"Alright, 50%. But you've gotta give me time to get it."

"I give you 48 hours. If you don't cough up the money by then, I'll arrest you. And just by coincidence you'll spend some quality time alone with Jane here. He's a real artist at what he does."

Patrick flashed a wicked grin as he cracked his knuckles.

"Alright, call off Stud and call off your sniper. I'll meet you here again in two days."

Wilcox gave a final frightened look at Teresa and Patrick before he half-walked, half-sprinted back the way he came. As soon as he disappeared around a corner, Patrick let out a big sigh.

"Wilcox is back in his car, he's started it, now he's pulling out into traffic. SacPD is putting a tail on him," said Rigsby.

"Good. Thank you, everyone," said Teresa.

Even if I don't have my memory, it sure feels right leading these people.

"You handled that great, Boss!"

"Thank you, Van Pelt." Teresa looked around to see Patrick smiling at her. Behind him at a distance she could see the Three Musketeers waiting for them. Before she joined the team, she reached over to grip the lapel on Patrick's suit. "Remember about tomorrow night. Blue Turtle, red tie, black shoes."

She released the lapel, pivoted, and marched toward the team - her team - in triumph.

As she walked, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Hello."

"Hey, Sunshine. It's Teresa."

In the background she heard a man's voice call out to Sunshine.

"Whoever's on the line, get rid of them and get your sweet ass back over here.

"But it's Teresa Lisbon, honey. She's my friend."

"I don't care if it's the President of the United States. Get rid of her."

Hearing that exchange between Sunshine and her boyfriend conjured up all sorts of similar ideas for Teresa. She smiled when she thought about her own plans.

"Sunshine, I won't keep you. I just want to know if you can go shopping with me tomorrow morning. I need to get something special for a date tomorrow night."

Teresa heard a squeal on the other end of the line.

"Absolutely, but I gotta go now. See you about 9am."

Click.

Patrick stood in awe. The last fifteen minutes had transformed everything about the case. More than that, the last fifteen minutes had changed his and Teresa's relationship. He remained frozen in place, looking at the team greet Teresa with handshakes and hugs. He was only vaguely aware of people moving around him. Herb and Gladys, the techies, had arrived to remove the equipment from his body.

"Mr. Jane, I just want to thank you," said Herb as he untangled a thin wire that had caught in his suit lining.

"For what?"

"I've been working this job for twelve years and seen plenty of operations. Most of the time it's hours of boredom, but I've never enjoyed hearing one as much as yours today."

Gladys was on the other side of Patrick removing a transmitter from his belt.

"Mr. Jane," she said, "I got advice for you about your date with Agent Lisbon tomorrow night."

"What's that, Gladys?"

"Get her some flowers. But whatever you do, don't bring her any crap-filled crackers."

The two techies dissolved into laughter.

Conrad, the head techie, came over to stand beside Patrick. The two men both looked at Teresa surrounded by the team as they made their way back to the CBI building.

"Mr. Jane, she's crazy."

Patrick never took his eyes off Teresa. He shook his head no.

"You're wrong. She's magnificent."

Teresa sensed the change in the air when they got home. She could feel the electricity spark between her and Patrick as they moved around each other. The "accidental" bumps became frequent, the casual touches lingered, and the glances between them held longer.

"So what's the movie tonight, Patrick?" She sat down beside him on the sofa, his old gray shirt fitting loosely around her body.

"My favorite one of all, Top Hat." He reached his arm around Teresa to grasp a section of the shirt sleeve. "You know, this shirt looks better on you than it ever did on me."

She noticed that he left his arm around her. More than that, he pulled her to him until her head rested on his chest under the crook of his chin. They stayed that way during the whole movie.

At the end when they rose and stretched, she saw an expectant look on his face.

"What? You look like you want me to say something," she asked.

"Any favorites tonight?"

"I liked 'No Strings,' but my absolute favorite number was 'Cheek To Cheek.' Such elegance, such grace. And that gown Ginger wore in the scene was beautiful."

"Interesting story about that gown. The feathers on it kept coming off during filming to point that Fred got irritated."

"It's hard to picture Fred Astaire getting upset about anything."

"Well he did but he got over it, and he and Ginger patched things up between them. As a matter of fact he nicknamed Ginger 'Feathers' after that."

"So I shouldn't wear a dress with feathers on it when we go dancing tomorrow night, I guess."

"It would probably be for the best, Feather-less."

Patrick woke from his light sleep to see 4:25am on the clock beside his bed. Moving quickly, he got ready for his daily swim then slipped into the hallway. He didn't hear a sound in the whole condo other than his feet shuffling along. He stopped beside Teresa's door but heard nothing.

She must be asleep. I wish she were going over to "keep me under surveillance" as she said. I liked seeing her stretched out on the lounge chair.

With a sigh of regret, he slipped out the front door to make his way over to the fitness center.

Once there, he sensed something was different. As he moved in and out of the shadows, he saw the water of the pool lap up and down against its edges. The movement of the water brought back unpleasant memories of the lake on the night he found Teresa.

Moving into the pool area, he stopped dead in his tracks. Looking across the pool he saw Teresa face-up in the water. A spike of fear bolted through his heart, but then he noticed that her body was moving. She was doing the backstroke, dressed in a one-piece bathing suit.

He walked over to the edge nearest her as she touched the wall. Stopping, she rested her arms on the side of the pool as she raised her eyes to meet his.

"It's 4:35. What took you so long, Patrick?"

To be continued.

Author's notes:

Bart Howard wrote "Fly Me To The Moon" (aka "In Other Words") in 1954. My favorite version is an electrifying one by Julie London on her album The End Of The World. The vocal, piano, strings, and arrangement speed along lighter than air, much like Teresa and Patrick's relationship. It's a two-and-a-half minute thrill ride.

Irving Berlin wrote both "No Strings (I'm Fancy Free)" and the better-known "Cheek To Cheek" in 1935. My favorites for these two songs include the versions that Ella Fitzgerald recorded on her album Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Irving Berlin Songbook.