A/N: your reception of this story is amazing; thanks for the reviews, and to the guests as well, and to everyone who favorited and clicked follow... I adore you! That's gonna be the last update for few days, as real life will theaten me for a while, so, until the middle of the next week you'll not get chapter four. But, ehy, I'll do my best,a nd if I'll be persuaded by teh amount of reviews and comments... maybe I could even try to do it sooner! :P

Of course, they had been both right, because as soon as the case was closed and they had a bit of time to just relax, back at HQ people started complimenting them- and, mostly, Lisbon. There were days she was kind of mad because of this; people wasn't supposed to say how lucky she was. Damn it, she often thought while shaking hands with people she barely knew, and also complete strangers, Jane is supposed to be lucky because he got me, not the other way around.

She guessed that they were partly right, but only because they didn't know him like she did; yes, Jane was charismatic, funny, smart, talented and, also, extremely handsome, but she had been the one to put up with him for over a decade. She knew him inside out, the good and the bad; she had seen him at his worst, knew everything he had done in his life, even long before they met. And yet… Yet, she had never been able to NOT forgive him. Yet, she had always been at his side.

She sighed, realizing that it was probably the least but not last indication that she had been long in love with that charming devil. She shook her head, trying to think of something else than Patrick Jane; after he had really proposed to her- sort of – her mind had been filled with him. He was still waiting for answer, and had left her time to think about it, between the chaos her life had turned into and the job, but now the case was closed, and she couldn't help but concentrate on all the memories and the regrets accumulated in over a decade. Part of her felt wanted to accept his offer, feeling like she owned herself at least this chance at getting what she had wanted for so long. But…

But, she wasn't sure she could handle the repercussions of her actions. Yes, she still felt something for Jane, even after such a long time and after everything he did to her, but in the last few night she had always cried herself to sleep thinking about Marcus, about what she thought he would have given her someday and how he had broken her heart without giving a damn.

And it wasn't even the worse. Because, as she kept remind herself, there was a tiny part of her heart that still loved Jane, and that part knew that he didn't love her in the right way. Jane wanted a lover, wanted a partner, knowing all too well that there was no way he could ever had what he had once shared with Angela. Yes, he cared about her, but was it going to be enough, had she decided to say yes?

She wasn't sure, and frankly, she was a tiny bit scared of finding out.

"Ehy, I know I already told you at the party, but…" Kim told her as Lisbon was eyeing, slightly nauseated, a slice of closed-case pizza. She wasn't in the mood for food, or chit-chat or whatever. She had too much in her mind, but she was supposed to be a freshly engaged woman, ready to marry the woman of her dreams. Yes, she was supposed to be stressed, but also exited and a bit hyped-up. "Congratulations. We are all happy for the two of you."

Lisbon blushed, biting her lips, whispering a thank you to her friend and colleague. She felt a bit bad, lying to Kim like that. Yes, she didn't shared with her the same tie she had with Grace, but she was a good enough friend, and had she already said to herself (and Jane) that lying to your friends was a bad thing to do?

"You know, it's strange, but…" Kim said, a bit unsure. Teresa realized that the younger woman was starting to behave with her like she did with Jane, walking a bit on eggshells. She sighed again, already knowing where this conversation was going. It was going to be personal, it was going to about her relationship with Jane, and it was probably to be a mention or two about Marcus dearest. "I thought you were interested in Pike. I mean, I know the two of you dated for a while, and I was wondering if he had told you about…."

Kim didn't end the sentence. Teresa's expression told her there was absolutely no need. She already got her point all right.

"Francine? Nope. I had no idea until he introduced us." She paused, and instead of the pizza, she took a cup of coffee. She wasn't feeling like drinking, either, but at least she could use it as a physical obstacle between herself and Fisher and could pretend to drink. "But, you know, when he moved to Washington he made it clear that there was no need for us to be exclusive."

She wanted to face-palm herself. Great, Teresa thought, now she is going to believe that I am an idiot because my boyfriend was sleeping around my back, and that, on top of that, I am a slut too because Iwas sleeping around, too.

"Yeah, I mean… he is a good boy, but he is a bit of a womanizer, you know? Besides, he is kind of a sailor, moving around so much, a woman in every port…"

"Yeah." Teresa reluctantly admitted, trying to appear like she couldn't care any less. Apparently, everything that had happened between them hadn't mattered to Marcus at all; she had been just another notch on his bed.

"Well… I am glad you feel so. I mean, when they told me that he had gotten engaged, I feared that you were too invested in him, but…" Kim paused, quite happy. "But if I have to be honest, I think Jane could make a much better husband for you."

Lisbon gasped, quite scandalized. "I'm not bossy!" she hissed.

Ok, she knew that she could be bossy, indeed, but it was her nature. She had been head of her family, sister, father and mother at the same time for her younger siblings, and she had been a boss for a decade or so. And now she had cooled her attitude down.

Especially with a certain consultant.

Kim shook her head, rolling her eyes a bit. "What I am saying, is that Marcus loves a quiet life, he doesn't mind having people taking care of things for him. He comes from FBI blood, his family arranged his studies and his carrier, and I'm sure he would have just loved if you would have taken charge in your relationship. And I don't think that having a puppet-husband would have done any good to you, or your marriage, in the long run. What you need is a man who can match your strength of character, and Jane is exactly that."

She opened her mouth to deny such a statement, but Teresa realized she couldn't. Kim was right about everything; Marcus tended to allow others to solve his problems and fix his life, and yes, he was an easy-going kind of man, but the only reason he didn't tend to lose his temper was because he either told his opponent they were right or found a way out of any discussion. Sometimes, when they had been dating, he would have stormed out of the room in the middle of the argument, just to come back to her later and act like nothing had happened at all; he would be the caring boyfriend, and she would feel stupid for being childish.

But, she had been stupid. She had believed him, read too much in what he said and did, and expected to be asked in wife, just to meet his fiancée. And she couldn't talk with anyone- but Jane- about this, about the hurt, rage and sufferance. Because otherwise, people would have seen her engagement to Jane for what it truly was, a charade to save her face, Jane's attempt to rescue the poor damsel in distress.

She met Jane's eyes in the distance, and saying hello to her coworkers, she took her jacket and purse an went in his direction. He was talking with Cho, and another guy was shaking his hand- he better be complimenting him for his catch, she thought – and tenderly touched the blonde man's shoulder. He turned, and he smile grew as he saw who it was.

"Hey." He said.

"Hey." She simply answered, smiling in return. Had she already said that Jane's smile was contagious? "Can we talk somewhere?" she asked as soon as the others were out of earshot.

He nodded, and took his jacket from his couch in the bullpen, saying hello with a gesture to a couple of people, and promising Cho to give him the next day the name of a book Teresa had never heard of. "There's a quiet diner a couple of blocks from here. You want to go there?"

She just made a movement with her nose. She still didn't feel like eating, telling so many lies was probably giving her another ulcer. "I'm not in the mood for eating…" she said.

"You just a cereal bar at lunch, Lisbon, and a couple of cups of coffee. And not even cops can survive only on that thing you call a beverage." He sighed, hating that he was right, but still rolled her eyes. Just because he was right, it didn't mean that he had to be completely right. For God's sake, they were fake-engaged, and he behaved already like he was her over-protective husband. "I went grocery-shopping this morning, tomatoes and salad are fresh and if you'll behave I could easily offer some biological hard-boiled eggs as well…"

She snorted, wining a little as they were already leaving the building. "Ugh. I'm not in the mood for the airstream either, Jane. Can't we do this at my place, instead?"

But Jane chuckled- obviously knowing that it was nothing more than her attempt to (a)maintain control in a well-known habitat, and (b)because she hated his airstream, a reminder that he lived on a house with wheels and that he could leave whenever he wanted, leaving her behind yet again.

Well, he was going to surprise her: that wasn't his plan at all, and she didn't know the full truth.

"Tsk, tsk, Lisbon…" he said, as he offered her his palm to receive the keys of the dark SUV. Yes, he knew that Lisbon wanted to drive- yet again to maintain control- but after all, she didn't know where they were going, and he didn't want to talk and spoil the surprise. "The airstream is only for when I'm on the road." He said, without adding anything more.

She groaned, but surprise, surprise, she gave up, and not two minutes later they were on the road- with Jane driving in his usual style- taking streets she had never seen before; couple of times, she had been at the airstream, and knew where he usually parked it, and she knew it was in the opposite direction. In silence, she wondered if his carnie attitude hadn't come back with a passion, compelling him to move it at least in another zone of the city, but the neighborhood didn't scream exactly "airstream park nearby".

And then, he parked her car in front of an evergreen hedge that was closed by a wrought iron gate.

It was an actual house that took her breath away; it wasn't state of the art or a mansion like his Malibu place had been, but it was… homey. As they moved towards the front-door, she noticed all kind of things; she liked the fact that it was in a quiet and classy neighborhood, without, though, being too uptight; she liked the white wood and the grey roof, but what she loved was the big garden (big enough for a big dog, just like she liked them), filled with trees and flowers, and how the yard was protected not by a fence, but evergreen plants. It was big, two floors- but not too big –and it had high windows that probably enlightened the inside in a marvelous way. When he opened the door, she followed him inside, without saying a word, and she discovered that it was as nice as the outside. She wandered for the place without waiting for Jane to show her around, and gasped when she discovered her old office couch (the white one he had bought for her) in front of a huge television; she blushed, but yet again she didn't say anything. But she entered in the kitchen, and got mercerized looking outside the window that gave on a porch, where two blackbirds were playing in a pool of water, running after each other like they were children.

"Caught you staring?" Jane asked, nuzzling the tender skin of her neck as he enveloped her in an embrace from behind.

"I think they are cute…" she said, a bit absent. She tried to remember if she had ever seen a documentary about blackbirds, or read about them. Those two were both stark black, and she couldn't remember if the male and the female were the same or whatever. She liked to think that, in a fairy-tale kind of word, the two were childhood friends, that grew together, changed at each other side with the passing of time, until, one day, they didn't fall in love with each other, just when they were almost losing each other.

She wondered if it could be her story, too.

"Well, Lisbon, I'm sorry to disappoint you, by they are both males. Probably fighting over the territory." He tsk-tsked against her skin. His breath stirred her hair, and as she gasped at the onslaught of sensations, she felt a whiff of faint, spicy perfume. She closed her eyes, barely resisting arching into his body, morning at loud. What was it, she wondered? Was it cologne, or had he put on aftershave for her? "Salad's ready. You want some wine, too?"

She nodded, and he parted, taking from the kitchen aisle two glasses of red; he offered her one, then, with his free hand on the small of her back, he guided her to seat on the couch; right there, on the small coffee table in front of the piece of furniture, he had arranged their plates of salad and some deliciously-smelling bread.

As she sat down, Teresa blushed. How long had she been lost in the house, in the two birds playing and fighting, that he had been able to do so much in the meanwhile? She felt ashamed, like being caught off guard was a bad thing. But maybe, she didn't have to be surprised. It was Jane she was talking about, after all.

She took a sip of wine, and hummed in appreciation, she turned to face Jane, ready to ask him about the place, but the question died on her lips. Still, she was scared of knowing the truth.

But… it was him, and it was her, and there were things that didn't need saying when it came to the two of them. As he traced her nose with a finger, she smiled, knowing from his expression that he was going to talk, and that whatever he was going to say, it would matter.

She would matter to Jane.

"I needed something a little bit more stable." He said, then, as he finally noticed that his finger was still drawing patterns on her skin, he retreated his appendage, like he was burning, and shrugged his shoulders like it was nothing at all. "The market was still low. I still got the money. It was a convenient investment."

She wanted to scream, to grab him for the lapels of his shirt and kiss him until he didn't stoop to hide behind a mask of cynicism. God. She hated when he did that. He had done so since they had met, always playing a part, always pretending to be a heartless bastard. But he wasn't, and he had to accept that. Because a bastard would have never written one hundred and four letters to her, risking being found, nor he would have acted like he had done to save her pride.

An heartless bastard would have never said "I'm always going to save you, whatever you like it or not."

She heard as he put his glass on the coffee table, and without asking her, without that she fought him, he took her own one and put it next to his own; then, with an arm around her shoulders, he lifted her chin with his free hand as she drew in a sharp breath, her eyes widening at the realization of what was going to happen.

Then… then, she closed her eyes as his lips found her own, firm, warm and compelling. His hands slid from her chin to her throat, then to her shoulder, and grabbed the fabric of her shirt like for dear life. Her hands were on his sleeves, feeling through the cloth the taunt muscles of his upper arms- he often swam, she remembered in some distant corner of her mind. She knew that things were turning too heated, and so, instead of feeling him up, she pushed him a little, but without too much power, like she didn't know herself if she wanted to be ravaged on the couch or not.

He didn't let it of her immediately, but after a moment his grip on her body lessened, and his mouth left hers. She closed her eyes and took a big breath, her hands still flat on his chest. "Jane… we need to talk." She said. But she wanted to say so much more. She wanted to tell him that they weren't' that way, that he had never showed to want her before presented with risk of losing her once and for all to another man; but, she knew him. In order to make her relax and see the light, he would have remembered her of that whispered confession of love, of that moment they shared on that cliff, or how much his fugue-self had wanted her in his bed.

But, of course, everything would have ended up escalating from there. she would have told him that he had claimed to have forgotten to have said the words, that it had been just a trick to leave her behind and deal with Red John on his own, like he wanted to, and that he hadn't really been himself.

So, knowing what would have come, she kept it quiet, and instead, she said: "We aren't really engaged, and we aren't that kind of friends who share a with benefits relationship."

He smiled of a lazy smile at her, the kind of smile she expected to see on a man in the morning, when he woke up close to the woman he loved, and he started to play with her hair. "I'll buy you a ring. Would it make it real enough for you?"

She looked at him with an expression he knew all too well, reminding him of all the times she had been annoyed or mad with him, all the times he had been lectured because of this or that. So, he let it go of her, sat like a gentleman looking at the screen instead of her, and crossed his arms. "Ok, you win, let's talk about it properly."

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, and couldn't resist temptation; he couldn't have her, get lost in the abyss of her body, couldn't conquer her lips once more, but he wouldn't be denied a little contact; so, trusting that she would forgive him, he interlaced their fingers. "What's the trouble?"

She shook her head, looking at her feet. Where he touched her, she felt like burning, but she preferred to try to not pay attention to this. "We can't go on pretending, Jane…."

"But there's no need to, Teresa. I offered a solution." He tugged her hand, forcing her to turn and face him, and then, after few, interminable moments of silence, he asked what had been on his mind since she had entered his place. "Have you thought about it?"

She half laughed, but it was forced, nervous, more to break the tension, alleviate the whole thing than because it was what she wanted to actually do. "Right. Jane, a pretended marriage is even crazier than a pretended engagement. I mean, you don't want to marry me."

Jane chuckled. "Trust me, I'm not against the idea." When she looked at him with lifted eyebrows, quizzically, he rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Teresa, you are not a baby. You know at least one of the reasons I want to be with you."

She made a face, almost indignant and disgusted. "You are aware that in the twenty-first century you don't need to be married, nor to pay, to have sex, right? Especially you, Jane, trust me."

"You know, it's interesting. You haven't denied, not even once, that you desire me. Now, what does it say about you, uh?" he grinned. "You've been kissing me, Lisbon, those past few days. Maybe not the first time- even if I like to think that your subconscious knew it wasn't Marcus- but after that… it had always been me."

She shook her head. "Ok, I'll admit you are a good-looking man and I find you arousing. But it doesn't mean anything. You don't get married because your partner give you the hots!"

Jane shook his head again, starting to feel a bit exasperated. She wasn't getting it- or maybe she did, but she was seeing a whole other thing altogether. Of course he wanted her- which sane man wouldn't?- but it wasn't just that. It was that she knew that they were Lisbon and Jane, and that if they tried it, if they were to keep kissing, end up in bed together, nothing would be the same, ever again. Actually, he rectified looking at her lips, everything had already changed, and he guessed that, at least from him, there was no going back from her ardent kisses.

It was time to tell her as much, though.

"Teresa… let's be honest. We ruined each other for any other person." He tried to put some humor in his statement, like it was a silly joke, but they both knew it wasn't. They weren't' Teresa and Jane any longer; they were a man and a woman, and now they were both aware of their desire, they were as open as they could in that regard; of course, a part of them had always knew it- they both had spent many nights fantasizing about the other- but now there was nothing between them, no Red John, no Marcus, no job.

But… but Lisbon knew there were other complications, too. Even if she wasn't in a relationship with Marcus any longer, even if he had gotten and married another woman, she still felt something for him. Yes, Jane had pushed him away from the front of her mind, but he still existed.

Suddenly, she felt like exploding.

Jane took her in his arms, and like he had done in the past with his daughter, he rocked her, calming her down as she silently sobbed. He kissed the crown of her dark hair at closed eyes. "It's ok, little one. We'll work it out."

She giggled, for some unknown reason, at his statement, and Jane stopped to do what he was doing and stared at her. Maybe Jane was right and she was having a breakdown. Or maybe it was just that she and Jane were probably having very different ideas regarding "working things out".

"You sound just like Rhett." She told him. It wasn't an insult. It wasn't his fault if she hadn't really thought about him as a real male before. Jane had always been a bit of a metrosexual; now, the beard was helping out a bit, but still, it was hard to forget that he was the one who used to hide behind her metaphorical gown.

He laughed, and his laughter shook his chest; she lifted her head to look at him; he was very handsome, with the tanned skin, sun-kissed, his fair, wild curls and even the pearl white teeth. And his sea-green eyes. She couldn't talk about it, couldn't even think about them, so much they took her breath away.

Her gaze went to the open collar of his shirt, and to the three buttons left open; she was as conscious as never before of their closeness. She took a big breath, and decided to remove her hands from his chest, and put some space between their heated bodies.

"You don't have to fight it, Teresa." He whispered. But she shook her head, unable to meet his eyes.

"I still love Marcus."

"Marcus doesn't want you." She raised her eyes to face him, hurt. She had always knew that Jane could be cruel, but he had always avoided being harsh with her, right from the start; as someone once said, she was his Achilles' heel, his soft spot. She was going to say something- even something lame and childish like You are mean – but she was caught off guard by his assault. He kissed her passion, without any gentleness, pushing her lithe form in the couch, his whole body pressed tight against her; with one hand he grabbed her long, silky hair, while the other one grabbed one of her breasts through her shirt, until he didn't feel beneath his palm her heart going crazy.

He moved his lips away from her mouth, leaving just a breath of air between them, and looking at her dark eyes, he breathed in her mouth his next words. "I, on the other hand, want you very much."

She knew, she knew it to be true at least in that moment, when she could feel against her belly the heavy weight, the hard pressure of his arousal. But she didn't want to admit that she, too, wanted him too, not after everything he had done to her, not with Marcus still owning part of her. But Jane was a man on a mission, and so, with the hand that had been groping her breast, he changed tactic, deciding to play with her nipples through the layers of cloth. She felt like electricity burned through her whole being when he pinched the tender tissue, and she felt ashamed that he could turn her on in such a way, but it was a feeling that didn't last long.

She turned her head, hide her face in the crock of his neck and breathed in his scent, reassuring herself that maybe, just maybe, he was right, that he could fix everything and that things could get all right once again. His breathing quieted, and inhaled her scent as she stopped to fondle her; he cupped her face, forcing Lisbon to lift her eyes and look at him.

"Your body tells me that you want me too." He told her, his voice but a whisper in the silence of the room. She shook her head, trying to fight back the tears while he kissed her hair again and again, soothing her pain away.

"But it's not the same" she said. But what she wanted to tell him, was, I don't know if it's enough.

He said something again, his voice so low she wasn't sure she heard it right, something about it being enough for now if she wasn't betrayed, and then stopped touching her altogether. He let it go of her, and sat on the opposite side of the couch, running his hands through his rebel curls. He took big breaths, looked in the distance at nothing in particular, bite his lips like to find the strength, the courage to say something, but the heavy silence that enveloped them seemed to last forever.

Then, he finally spoke again.

"I know… I know you think your heart is broken… but you will get over it, eventually. Heartbreak doesn't last forever. Even the worst." He paused as she gasped, well aware what, or better yet, who he was talking about- Angela, his beloved wife, the one she couldn't believe he was letting it go of. His eyes fell, like many times after their undercover stunt when he had first posed as her boyfriend, on his left ring finger, empty as it had been since that day, when she had said yes to Marcus Pike and left him alone at the office. Even after so long, he still felt the phantom pain, the heavy weight of the gold, but whereas at the beginning it had been fear- just like when he had taken off for Fisher- now it was because of desire. Desire of replacing it.

"Now, I can finally think of my family in the happy times, and I am glad we shared so much, the three of us… glad that I loved them, that I knew and understood them. The memories aren't often painful now."

Teresa gasped again, feeling bad about herself. She was complaining about not having Marcus any longer, but at least it had been him to put an end to their relationship; a sociopath had destroyed Jane's happiness, leaving his alone in the dark. Marcus was still alive, and so was she. Like Jane now, one day she would learn to live and love without pain or bad memories- unfortunately, that day seemed still far away.

And Jane…

Jane understood why she couldn't love like that any longer, why she didn't want to. He had been through the worst experience possible, and he wouldn't expect too much; he still loved his first wife, something she was well aware of, and since her heart still belonged to Marcus, she wouldn't expect much in return; what he was suggesting was sensible for the both of them- care, affection, tenderness, companionship, sex and a safe pride.

"Teresa… in my own way, I love you. That's why I want to marry you. Will you?"

She stared ahead of herself, trying to clear her mind. He had said the words again, and she knew them to be true, but Jane didn't love her as a husband; he loved her as he loved their other team-members, but with the added bonus of the sexual attraction; she, too, loved him, but she wasn't sure she did with the same depth she did Marcus.

Also, she was pretty sure that the idea of sex with Jane was half scary, half exiting. Because, yes, she wanted him, responded to every one of his touches, but she felt like it was too much, like every time he skimmed her skin, she felt everything multiplied for thousands of times.

And besides, if they were going to do it… she knew Jane. Angela had been his first love, his only girlfriend, and after her death, he had been only with… well, the woman she didn't like to think about. Even after so long, he was still celibate in his widowhood state. He wasn't libertine or promiscuous in his liaisons, so it made sense, in a crazy and contorted kind of way, that he wanted to avoid the problem altogether by getting married, and having again the stability of a partner at his side.

The tears that had been burned her eyes suddenly escaped, and she started to sob in his arms, her own ones around his neck, keeping as close as possible; Jane deserved a wife, a proper home, and not just an house like his place still was, somewhere where he sometimes eat and slept.

And she could do that. For him. She wanted to. She had wanted that with Marcus, but Marcus, like Jane had said, didn't want her. Jane did. She didn't want to go through the motion, wondering buts and what ifs until her last day on Earth; she didn't want to fall in love again, experience love and happiness just to get her heart broken once again. Besides, wasn't how marriages worked in the old times? And people didn't get divorced, nor asked for annulments, back then.

"Teresa?" he whispered in her hear, kissing her lobe. He was manipulating her through her attraction, she knew, but she didn't care. she had already made up her mind, after all. only, he didn't know it yet. "Is it such a difficult decision?"

"Yes." She said.

The breath died in his throat. "Yes, as in, yes, it' a difficult decision, or yes as in yes, I'll marry you?"

She took a big breath, and smiled against the skin of his neck as she turned her face towards him. "Yes, I'll marry you."