Author's notes:

Thank you to the great writer Sue Shay for her help and insight! As I've mentioned before, I would not have undertaken this project without her encouragement and support. In addition to her current romance-and-family story, "Ready or Not" (as of this writing Chapter 54 has just been published), Sue has begun a series of drabbles entitled "It's Over." Check 'em out!

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 situations and dialogue.

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

Chapter 18: How Long Has This Been Going On?

She opened her eyes to see the morning sun peeking through the window, its beams mixing patches of light and shadow across the bedroom. As she inhaled a deep breath, she felt a stirring behind her.

Teresa lay on her side with Patrick's arms wrapped around her, his bare chest pressed against her back. The stubble from his day-old growth of beard tickled her shoulder as his lips scattered kisses from her neck downward. Turning her head, she urged his lips to join hers, a silent command he readily obeyed.

In a gentle motion Patrick grasped her index finger. Teresa sighed in contentment at the memory of his same action that night at the hospital, and she longed to feel the three tender squeezes of his fingers on her own again. Something was different though. Before he began this time, Patrick brought his lips beside her ear. Now with each squeeze came a word whispered in a warm breath that touched her soul. I-love-you. Once finished with the words, Patrick nibbled around the edges of her ear, just as she had with him during the night.

All was right with her world. Her moonlight man found her, sustained her, and returned to her. Now he whispered the three words she had yearned to hear since she first saw him at the lake.

Teresa pulled his arms tight around her body. When she did, the sunlight illuminated something shiny.

Her gaze fell on the source of the shininess - Patrick's ring. Unease welled up inside her in an instant. Taking her eyes off the ring, she let her attention wander to the bedside table. There sat the origami frog, the gift of a friend to a friend. Behind the frog was a picture, one the old Lisbon must have cherished. In the photo she stood surrounded by her team, Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt, and Jane. On their behalf the old Lisbon had just received the CBI team-of-the-year award according to the caption. While they all had a hand placed on the trophy, the other four focused their smiles and attention on her. Especially Patrick. She was their leader, the one they looked to for responsibility, the mature one.

What have I done? Teresa Lisbon, the old me, was another person. Someone whose body, whose life, whose relationships I took over until she returns. I've been her steward while she's been gone…

…and what did I do? Without any say on her part, I changed her world. "Changed" is too weak a word. I seduced her closest friend. When she does come back, she'll find I wrecked the life she had known.

And what about Patrick himself? He honored his wife by wearing their ring; he had remained faithful to her memory all these years. As for the old Lisbon, he'd built a stable friendship with her, one that worked for them both. What right did I have to upset the balance he had achieved? I've ruined his life as well.

Overcome with distress, Teresa threw the blanket off her body and swung her legs around to get up. She felt Patrick's hand rise to caress her bare shoulder, something she had welcomed only moments ago. Now his touch filled her with remorse. She shrugged his hand off her. He tried again to touch her, but she rolled her shoulders to avoid his grasp.

"Teresa?"

I can't look at him. I've got to get away from him or I won't be able to control myself.

Without turning back she rose to her feet.

"I have to go take a shower."

"But…"

"I have to go."

She moved quickly to her bathroom and shut the door behind her. Turning on the water, she ducked into the shower while it was still only lukewarm. She wanted to escape, to be alone with her distress.

No such luck. A gentle rapping on the door made her look up. She could feel his concern even though the door separated them. Mostly finished, she shut off the water.

"Teresa."

"Go away, Patrick. I want to be alone."

"You know I can open this door if wanted to."

"I know that, and it's not even locked. But I also know you're a good enough man not to open it if I don't want you to."

"Please, tell me what's wrong."

"How I just described you is what's wrong."

"Huh?"

"You're a good man. That's what's wrong."

The loud snort that she heard on the other side of the door made her forget her anguish for a moment and laugh.

"Me, a good man? You really are mixed up in the head if you think that."

"Go away. I've taken advantage of you while the old me has been gone."

"What?"

"I've thrown myself at you, seduced you."

She heard him snort again.

"Seems to me it takes two people to do what we've been doing, especially last night and this morning. I was just as willing as you were."

"I took complete control of our situation, I forced…"

"Whoa, now hold on a minute. You didn't force me to do anything. I view all of this as more of a collaboration. As a matter of fact I like to think I've shown some initiative in our relationship - the flowers, our date, that thing I did last night that made you start…"

"Ahhhhhhhhh, Patrick!"

"I remembered it more as a moan while you were digging your fingernails into my back, but I was a little caught in the moment myself so I could be wrong."

"Shut up." She couldn't help herself, she was laughing and crying at the same time.

"No, that's not what you said. It was more along the lines of…"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up. It's what you said to me this morning that's upset me."

Silence.

Is he still there?

After three beats he spoke.

"I realized that's what made you get up from bed. I was trying to do anything I could just now to salvage things. I understand your feelings aren't the same."

"You don't know what my feelings are."

"I do know mine though. I've spent years shoving my feelings for you off in a corner. But the truth is I've loved you for a long time. For years."

"You're just saying that."

"Now you're making me angry. I never thought I'd love anyone after Angela, but you proved me wrong."

"You're just talking about us, about me. The 'me' that surfaced after the attack."

"I've got news for you. I'm in love with you whether you're the old Lisbon or the new Teresa. To me there's no difference. I love you regardless of who you are. And by the way, the old Lisbon loved me as well. Neither of us had the courage to admit it to each other. Me finally having the guts to say it is new though."

Teresa leaned against the bathroom door. She believed what he said about himself. But what about her? What did she feel?

The answer for her, the new Teresa, was clear. If there was such a thing as love at first sight, she had fallen for him the moment she opened her eyes to see him at the lakeside. Their time together since had only deepened her love for him.

But what about the old Lisbon? Had Patrick sensed her feelings correctly? Thinking like a detective, evidence all formed in her mind - Van Pelt's description of their relationship, the observation about her and Patrick from Jeff in Narcotics, and the desk drawer full of origami frogs in her office. Everything she had seen and heard pointed to one thing - he loved her and she loved him. Then she thought of one more piece of evidence, another photo on her bedside table that clinched matters.

Really it was two snapshots printed side-by-side in one picture. Someone must have taken them at a crime scene. In the first snapshot Patrick was running around the side of the Blue Turtle while the old Lisbon was in hot pursuit of him, reaching to grab the tail of his suit jacket. In the second one she had caught him if "caught" was the right word. They stood together in an embrace looking at each other instead of the camera. Each morning when she awoke Teresa had studied that picture, in particular their facial expressions. The two were grinning, off in a world of their own. They were oblivious to anything besides each other.

If that's not two people in love then I don't know what love is.

She knew what she wanted to say and needed to say to Patrick - the same three words he had spoken to her.

With renewed confidence she opened the bathroom door, and a fully-dressed Patrick tumbled onto the tile floor at her feet.

While he had been talking with Teresa, Patrick collected his clothes strewn across the floor of the bedroom and redressed. He leaned back against the bathroom door to put on his shoes. Just as he finished tying a shoelace, the door opened and he fell backwards into the bathroom. Looking up he saw a beautiful - and dripping wet - Teresa standing over him.

"I wasn't prepared for you to open the door on me."

"Obviously."

He grinned.

"But you know, since you did and I'm down here on the floor, I must say looking up at you from this angle is…"

Teresa tapped his chest with her foot to silence him.

"Hush!"

In response he puckered his lips to blow a hot breath across her bare leg. He noted the shudder it produced up her body.

Good information to know.

Her eyes and smile communicated the message that he craved. Still, he wanted to hear those three little words from her lips.

"Patrick, I lo…"

Ding-dong.

No, no, no! Someone can't be at the front door. Not right now. Let Teresa finish.

"I lo…"

Ding-dong, ding-dong.

Teresa's contorted face mirrored his own frustration. With a sigh he sat up.

"Since I'm dressed I'll go to the door."

"Get rid of whoever it is. I've got something important to say." She reached her hand down to stroke the side of his face. Her smile conveyed affection mixed with a hint of mischief.

Patrick hopped up and made his way to the front door. He opened it to a woman with a too-bright smile on her face for that time of the morning. When she saw him, her smile faded but came back a moment later.

Poor job of hiding your disappointment that I wasn't Teresa.

"Oh, hi! You must be Teresa's boyfriend Patrick."

"Ahm." Patrick was stymied.

Who is this woman?

She brushed past him to stand in the living room, craning her neck around.

How rude!

The woman turned back to him, extending her hand.

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me." Well, at least she knows that. "Forgive me. I'm Teresa's friend Sunshine. I'm the Assistant Manager here."

Ahh, now I understand.

Patrick shook her hand. He remembered that Teresa said the condo's Manager had remarked that they looked like sisters. While he never would have said that, Sunshine did bear a slight resemblance to his Teresa, in a less attractive, vaguely slutty way.

"Good to meet you, Sunshine."

"Teresa and I were going to get together this morning. I didn't realize you were back in town."

Yeah, I'm back in town and you should get lost.

"Well, she's not up and around yet…"

"Sunshine! Hey." Teresa, now dressed, walked in to the living room.

Oh, Teresa, why did you have to walk in? I think I could have gotten rid of Sunshine in a few more moments.

"Hey yourself, girl. Did you remember we were getting together this morning? Or did Patrick's getting home make you forget?" Sunshine waggled her eyes in a suggestive manner. Teresa blushed.

Okay, I give up. I need to go by the CBI building anyway.

He turned to Teresa.

"Well, I, um, need to, um, go to the office. I'll be back at…say…lunchtime?"

Teresa walked over to him.

"Yes, lunchtime. Be back here at lunchtime." She put her arms around him and kissed him. Then she brought her mouth around to his ear to whisper to him. "I have three words I want to say to you. In private. Really four words because I'll put the word 'too' on the end."

Not caring about Sunshine being present, Patrick kissed Teresa again, a promise of more to come. Releasing her from their embrace, she turned to her friend.

"Give me just a minute, Sunshine." She turned and went back to her bedroom.

Nothing to do now except for me to go to the office and kill a little time, catch up on the latest news from Cho downstate.

With a sigh, Patrick moved past Sunshine toward the front door.

"Don't worry, Mr. Jane. We'll be through before lunchtime."

He nodded, twisted the doorknob, and moved into the doorway. A question popped into his head, and he turned to ask it before he left.

"Teresa always calls you Sunshine. She's never mentioned your formal name."

The woman laughed.

"Everyone just calls me Sunshine, but my formal name is Lorelei. Lorelei Martins."

To be continued.

Author's notes:

George and Ira Gershwin wrote "How Long Has This Been Going On?" in 1928. My favorite recording is Ella Fitzgerald's version on her album Pure Ella. Readers interested in 21st Century update of the song might check out Gloria Estafan's version on the album, The Standards.

Readers interested in the songs and movies mentioned in this story can check out a Youtube playlist titled "Mentalist - I Remember You - playlist for fanfic story."