The days of their honeymoon flew in an heartbeat, spent between the sheets of their bed (yes, he was an excellent lover, and yes, despite his age, he still had stamina- blessed biofeedback), the clear waters of the lake and walks on the shore at night, when they walked hand in hand and whispered sweet nothings in each other's ears.

Before they knew it, it was time to get back to reality, and when they did, Teresa had no doubts that her love for Jane had finally blossomed; it wasn't that scary, uncertain feeling she had had for years any longer, nor the dreams that kept her awake at night when she had been "a tiny bit in love with him".

No. Teresa Lisbon was crazy in love with Patrick Jane, and now that she was living the reality of that feeling, she wondered how she had even considered loving another man at all; everything paled in comparison to him, but maybe it was only in her mind, after all. Or maybe Jane had lied all this time and he truly was psychic, because she felt like every sensation was multiplied for ten, hundred times, and she wasn't talking about the sex- well, not only. It was… everything, like the way her heart blossomed and her cheeks reddened whenever he called her "Reese", or how she felt fire all over her nerve-endings when he took her hand in his one.

At first, she had been scared that getting back to society (and clothes) would mean breaking the spell of the honeymoon phase; she feared a boring routine, the novelty wearing off and leaving space to only a resentment and maybe boredom, like they were already an old married couple or had married in a rush.

But it didn't happen: on the job, they kept behaving like nothing happened at all, still being "Lisbon" and "Jane" (not that she was able to call him Patrick outside the job), and still bantering like they had always used to.

They also adapted to each other's constant presence in everyday life, and Lisbon didn't know who or what she was supposed to blame, if the fact that Jane had probably chosen their (technically, his) home with her in mind, if things were easier because he had been an husband once already, or because, after all, it was what she had wanted for a good part of her life. Either way, it didn't matter. Married life suited her and made her happy, despite her initial hesitations.

Of course she had wanted to marry Marcus, but it had been more philosophical in nature, a sort of intellectual exercise, and between dream and reality there were a lot- way too much – differences and speed bumps. But with Jane, it was different; her whole life she had been scared of seeing her life turned into a modern version of her parents' marriage, where her mother, although happy, had been the classic fifties style housewife; but her husband considered them equals and considered her the best of his friends; Jane loved her in his own personal way, but wasn't so attached that he would have died, destroyed himself if something would happen to her.

It has to be this way, she often thought. After all, if he would love her as an husband would, as he did Angela, he would have never married her, right? Because her life was a constant danger, a death threat after the next one; a man scared of losing himself in despair because of the loss of his beloved, a man who had walked that path once already, would have never taken such a risk willingly. Right? On her side… she didn't even want to think about what losing Jane could have meant for her. Her still recurring nightmares about Red John, Lorelai, Bertram and his exile were enough to terrorize her, and this without her persistent childhood memories. Adding (present) real life to the equation was too much to handle even for her, so, she avoided thinking about it as much as she could. Her conscious mind never got there; it was either on the job when she was at the FBI, or concentrating in transforming his house into an actual home: moving her things, adding her touch, mixing their life and creating something unique that was just them, Lisbon and Jane, with their dysfunctional pasts and their even more so present.

For the first time in her life, she allowed herself to be really happy; she wore the feeling proud, like a badge, and not the mask she had used for such a long time. Her mind, so lost in sensual imagines and touches, rarely got her in places where she didn't want to go. Unless in one occasion, more or less one month and an half after they got married, when she didn't know what to feel…

As Jane hurried outside, Lisbon rolled her eyes; for a man who claimed to still suffer from insomnia, he surely slept a lot. But, well, after all she had only herself to blame: blushing, she allowed herself to remember how the previous evening she had worn him out, after having filled his stomach with a decadent dessert au chocolate in bed.

She looked around, and noticed that Jane hadn't put his ironed clothes in the drawers the previous day, she looked at the items of clothing quizzically, wondering how it could have escaped his notice- Jane liked to put in order his things on his own, terrorized that she could get his "system" wrong- but now he wasn't there, and now that she was married, she wanted things in their place to be perfect the whole time.

Shaking her heads with a smile, thinking about what she would tell him in the evening, she grabbed the shirts and opened the drawer where she knew he kept them; it was semi-empty, and on the bottom she could see the corners of a frame sticking out. It was face-down, but with dread in her veins, even before taking it in her hands, she knew who was going to be in that picture. And yet, she gasped when she saw the three young faces, smiling and happy, Jane, Angela and a newborn Charlotte.

Besides a DMV picture, and images from the crime scene, Teresa had never seen any picture from Jane's family (Was it strange that she still considered them his family, now that she was his wife?); there were no pictures in the house, and as far as she knew, Jane didn't have any in his wallet.

Sobbing, she hugged the picture, feeling a shaft of pain, guilt and grief, for Angela and Charlotte, for the terrible loss Jane had suffered, and, inexplicably, for herself. It took her a long time to compose herself, and only when she looked at her face in the bathroom mirror, her eyes red and puffy, she realized she had been senseless. Why was she supposed to feel guilty because she was married to Jane? Yes, what had happened was terrible, and she thought that no man should go through such a catastrophe; but it wasn't her fault- and, as much as Jane liked to say the opposite, nor his. She didn't know a lot about Angela, but she guessed that she would have liked to know that Jane was happy and in good hands. Besides, the man's love for his first wife was epic, almost infinite, and Teresa knew that, as deep as they were, his feelings for herself couldn't compare, paled in compare to what he used to feel, and still felt, for his beautiful Angel…

They didn't even fight- well, they did, but theirs was more of a banter, the one developed either after years of marriage or a long knowledge; sometimes Teresa wondered what was their relationship; yes, she and Jane had known each other for almost fifteen years, but she felt strangely comfortable knowing that they had, somehow, always behaved like an old couple. She hadn't always noticed this, of course. In the past, she would have denied such a truth, but now, with the passing of time, and with the intimate knowledge of how Jane worked in a life outside the job – and a life without Red John – Teresa realized that people were right in making assumptions, and that yes, there was a reason why when they went undercover as a couple it always worked.

Of course, that phase couldn't last forever, but the cop couldn't imagine that she would have been the one to "destroy" their peace, nor what their first big fight as a married couple would have been about. She wasn't looking for a fight, actually, that morning she was quite happy, after having spent a beautiful and decadent night in her husband's arms (and underneath and on top of his body). They were going by their daily routine, when Jane went to the door to retrieve a package, and he made it swung before her eyes.

"Need to tell me something, Reese?" he asked with a cheerful smile as she grabbed the package from his hands, blushing, and he sat at the kitchen aisle drinking a cup of tea from his light blue cup, part of Teresa's wedding gift, still looking at her, amused. He guessed what the content of the package was, as he was aware that it had been delivered to his doorstep once a month since she had moved in with him; but it was the first time he was the one picking it up: contraceptive pills. And it amazed him that Teresa could blush about such a thing, considering how open and sexual she was with him.

Interesting, he thought. Sex doesn't embarrass her, but contraceptives do.

He heard her sighing and take a big breath, and he lifted his eyes from his cup; Teresa was staring at him with plea in her eyes, and even if he knew she would have soon spoken, he already felt like he knew what this was about. Her hands were grasping the package of pills like for dear life, she was pale and sweating, and it killed him knowing what she, rightfully, wanted. Something that he wasn't sure he could give her.

"Teresa…." He said, shaking his head, but she stopped him before he could end the sentence. She didn't want him to, couldn't allow it: she knew she would have listened to him, would have done as he was going to ask her, had he said the words out loud. And right now, she wanted to fight for herself, and what she wanted now, at this point in her life.

"I want to stop using them." she said, her eyes teary and her voice broken. They had never really talked about children, and she had never really thought about herself as a mum, but now that Jane was in her life, now that she loved him, she wanted that, too. She wanted to have a part of him growing in her, wanted to see a baby that was a mix of the two of them. And if he loved her even just a tiny bit, he would have understood, maybe even agreed. Right? After all, she had seen him so many times with children, and the only word she had to describe him with them was perfect.

He had to want a family with her. he just had to.

"Teresa, I don't know. I don't think it's the right time…" he said, dropping his cup in the sink and leaving the kitchen. Teresa felt rage rising in her whole being: he couldn't do that to her. That was what Jane accused Marcus of doing, walking away when the situation didn't suite him, but the mentalist was doing the same thing, and she wasn't going to allow him to. They were adults, and they were married. They were supposed to talk and solve problems, not give each other the cold shoulders and the silent treatment.

"It's not the right time?" she asked as she reached him on top of the stairs. "it's not the right time?! Jane, did you hear yourself? How can you say this is not the right time?"

Jane stopped doing whatever he was doing- cataloging his socks, apparently – and looked at her like she was a child who had just disappointed her parents, a stubborn child who didn't want to understand things. "We got married less than six months ago. Every is still new for you. I want you to get used to us, to still have you all for myself for a while before… adding anything else to our life."

Teresa groaned, feeling the need to take him for his shoulders and shook him; he didn't understand; but why? He was Patrick Jane. He knew and understood everything. How could he not get that? Unless… he didn't want to.

"Patrick, if we want to have children, this is the time. I am over forty years old, and it could get me a long time to get pregnant…"

"If you'll get pregnant." He snapped, with a voice she didn't recognize as his own; the breath died in her throat, and she filled her eyes filling with unshed tears. That wasn't the man she knew, the man she loved and had gotten married to. Her Jane was kind and sweet and a tea-drinker; this man, instead… she saw her father in him, a man filled with bitterness and resentment who saw his will as law in the household. That man was the reason she had left Greg when he had asked her to marry him; he was the reason she had been scared for so many years of allowing a man in her life for good. But Jane had won her over, and now, now she couldn't believe that her Jane could be that man.

"Listen, Teresa," he said in the same tone he would if he had to carefully explain something to her, like she was a kid. Patrick Jane acted like she was the kid. God, if the whole situation wasn't so tragic, she would have laughed. But there was nothing to laugh about. "a pregnancy is no bed of roses. You are tired enough because this job is demanding, and on top of that you are still adjusting to married life. If you'll get pregnant, you'll get even more tired, and you'll get sick and…"

"I know, but, morning sickness doesn't last forever, and…"

But he shook his head. "We'll talk again about it when you'll be more rested." There was finality in his voice and his face, but still Teresa followed him as he moved into another room. She wasn't going to have any of it: this had to be a conversation. He wasn't going to play dictator with her life. Yes, he had agreed to his "marriage scheme", but there was a limit to everything, and she was reaching her breaking point. She could understand if he would to talk things through, to make plans, but this wasn't the case. Jane just wanted to have the first and last word on the topic, and that was supposed to be it.

Not this time.

"Jane, I really would like to have a baby, and I think that my body would be all right with it. I know that I could… that I can cope with the stress of a pregnancy. And if I know it, so do you. And it means there's something more, something you aren't telling me…"

He looked at her feet, rage and annoyance clearly visible on his features. She couldn't believe he was mad about this. she thought that he knew that getting married, making their relationship real would mean breach this topic too, sooner or later. "Jane, we are all right, aren't we? I mean… we've known each other for so long…."

"No, no we didn't. we knew just what we wanted to show the other, but we discover every day new things about the other. If we have a baby now, we wouldn't have time to… adjust." She shook her head. Certainly, to an outsider his words would have made sense, but she knew there was something he wasn't telling her, that there was more than it met the eye. "You know, Teresa, I'm starting to think the only reason you married me was because you needed a legal reason to get married."

"That's an horrible thing to say… you can't seriously think this…" she whispered, and when he looked into her eyes, he left out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and saw the hurt and pain he was inflicting upon his bride. Shaking his head and feeling miserable, in two steps Jane covered the distance separating them, and took her in his arms, kissing the crown of her dark hair as he held her like for dear life.

"I'm so sorry, Teresa, I didn't want to snap at you and say those things… I don't really think them…" he whispered in her neck. "Just… could we talk about it again, later? Let's wait, until we'll not feel like it's the right time…"

Defeated, she gave in, but the conversation left her confused and upset. Maybe it was just hormones, or the feeling that her biological clock was ticking, but the longing for a child – his child- when faced with the harsh truth that she wasn't going to get her heart's desire, left her frustrated. Maybe Jane was right, and with a matter of days he she would have changed her mind, but he wasn't; his concern was genuine, and his arguments- even if she didn't agree with him- were sensed. She felt he was making too much of the possible effects of a pregnancy on her life, and that, in her book, meant that he was avoiding the heart of the matter, what really made him doubt having children with her.

Sighing in his chest, she hold him, leaving half-moon indentations on his skin through the thin cloth that was his shirt. She knew Jane, and once made up his mind, there was no way anyone could talk him out of whatever was running through his head. So, she had to put up with his decision concerning their future and hope for the better; he had told her that he wanted to wait, but he hadn't said how long, and even nowadays many couples waited a couple of years after the wedding to have children, they weren't getting any younger.

Of one thing she was certain: a baby had to welcomed by both parents, and Jane wasn't there with her yet. She would have to wait for what he saw as a reasonable time, and hope for the better, that it wasn't too late.

No, she thought as the tears were burning her eyes and Jane's hold on her spoke of despair and guilt, she didn't have to think like that. She had to be positive: sooner rather than later they were going to have a baby of their own.