A/N: Thanks to anyone who keeps favoring and following me and the story; you guys are amazing! I should have answered to any registered users by now, if I didn't, I'm sorry, and remember you are always in my thoughts and I am ever grateful for your support. And by the way, if you happen to catch some familiar faces in this chapter, it is very, very wanted. (Yes, there are Kate and Joe and The Shop around the corner from You've got mail in this chapter). Now… answering the non-registered users, and then onto the penultimate chapter!

Chocolate498: thanks a lot, I am grateful for people like you; as a non-native writer and speaker, it amazes me the support I receive from you guys.

Sylvia: No, I'm not English, as it's written on my homepage on the site- I'm Italian, actually. And Unfortunately I've been abandoned by my own beta, and haven't been answered by the people I tried to contact to the site who were (and are) listed as beta-readers.

On Monday afternoon, during her lunch break, Teresa wandered through the shops at the closest mall, and without meaning to she ended up in a bookstore. Despite the modern location, the place had a welcoming feeling to it, partly because it didn't seem to be part of a chain, and partly because she could see it was specialised in children and maternity books. She walked through the different aisles, filled with mostly old editions, some of them, she could see, were second, maybe third or fourth hand.

She smiled as, between the books, she found a spiral she thought she remembered; she skimmed over it, and saw that yes, it was a Dr. Seuss' "The Lorax" from the beginning of the Seventies. Her heart skipped a beat, and she covered her mouth, because she could have been hormonal, but she wasn't going to be hysteric in public- not over a book, at least.

"I'm sorry, are you all right?" She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and when she turned, Teresa saw a woman, slightly older than her, blonde and petite and the very personification of caring, smiling at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, but you seemed to be crying and…" the woman shook her head as she saw Teresa looking at her like she had two heads, and chuckled. "Right. Where are my manners? You probably think I'm some crazy loon. Anyway, I'm Kate, and I own" she said gesturing around, smiling happy and proud. "The shop around the corner with my husband Joe."

Teresa shook her head, and laughed, between tears and few sobs. "I'm Teresa, and this," she answered, indicating her baby bump. "is the reason of my mood swings. That… and the book." She sighed as she took it in her hands, wondering if she was really supposed to. After all, if it was exactly like the one she had owned as a child, it was a first edition. It couldn't be that rare, but it had to count for something, right?

"My mother got it when she was pregnant with me. When I learnt to read, I read it at loud to my baby brothers, even if they were new-borns and didn't understand a thing." She sighed, her mind in another place, another time. Another man- who still managed to break her heart, just like the current man she was sharing her life with, in such a different way, did.

"You still have it?" Kate asked, and Teresa shook her head, and didn't add anything else. She didn't feel like giving explanations, like saying things such as I cherished it like my greatest treasure, but one day I got home from school, and my drunk father had burnt everything that my late mother had even just touched in her life. "Ehy, if you are interested I can meet you halfway with the price. It's not such a rare book, and…"

But Teresa shook her head again. "I'm more interested in books about maternity, and the baby's first months." She caressed her belly, and grimaced. "I may not look the part, but it's the first time around for me." Not for the father, though, but I'm not considering him, because he doesn't want to have anything to do with this pregnancy, or the baby in general. So, yeah, I think I should start getting prepared, because I have the feeling that once I'll be a mother he'll just run into the sunset without me, so…

Kate indicated her few books she could find interesting, and didn't inquire furthermore on the reasons Teresa kept sobbing every now and then, and even suggested a book about knitting; the cop had used to do so as a girl ("I haven't done it since I went to Catholic school. And back then, I only tried to make clothes for my Barbie") and decided that maybe hand-made socks, or a warm blanket, couldn't be that bad for her kid; the child was going to need something familiar, a relic of some sort to pass through the future generations, as it wasn't going to get anything from its parents.

She went back home few hours later, with a shopping bag filled with books, and one with the necessary to knit a little something for the child; she had opted for a light green soft wool, as she had decided to not discover the gender of her baby (Frankly, she had enough problems as it was with Jane not wanting the baby; she didn't dare to think of what he would have said if they were to find out it was a girl she was expecting.); she wasn't sleeping that well, so she set up her mind to start working on it immediately after dinner.

"Ehy, welcome back." Jane told her, looking at yet another documentary on television. She was starting to consider the idea of breaking in millions of tiny little pieces that damn device: Jane looked only at documentaries, and right now she was in a moment in her life when documentaries made her cry- especially the ones he seemed to favour, about survival of the fittest and hunting habits of predators.

Had she mentioned that she didn't like crying in public?

"Ehy to…" she didn't end the sentence, and put an hand on her growing stomach as she felt a strange fluttering in her belly.

"Are you all right?" Jane asked as he jumped out of his position, and reached her, an hand protectively on her shoulder, the other at her waist to sustain her, just in case. She loved him in those moments, and she was scared of telling him it was because of the baby, because she knew that he would have retreated once again, and she didn't want to, not when they've been so distant lately. But what had just happened, she had to say it out loud, she had to share it with someone- with him, no matter the cost.

"I just… I felt the baby moving for the first time." She simply said, blushing slightly as she looked at her hand on her belly. She smiled of a little smile: it was the first time she felt her baby kicking, and it was an intoxicating feeling, one she couldn't get enough of.

"Yeah, exiting, isn't it?" he asked as he left her. Teresa lifted her eyes, and immediately saw his strained smile. She could see he wasn't into it, and it broke her heart a little bit more. Yes, she was thrilled, and she wanted to know why he couldn't be happy- at least be happy for her, as he had once told her that her happiness was the only thing that mattered and could make him happy as well. Was it because it wasn't the first time for him? Or was it because he looked at her and remembered Angela and Charlotte, and what had happened to his precious family, and all those feelings and mixed emotions were too much to handle for him?

"Yeah, well, baby's already stopped, so…" she said, even if it wasn't true, only because she knew he didn't want to talk about it, nor touch her belly and feel her child –their child – kicking him. So, instead of making it hard for him, she went back into the kitchen, and microwaved their dinner with something she had in the cooler; they ate dinner at opposite sides of the table, in complete silence, and Jane didn't even utter a word when she offered him his usual cup of tea, done just as he liked it.

After, as he was watching the news, she took the pattern, the needles and the wool, and sat on couch, cross-legged, working on it just as she had planned. She had knitted two rows when Jane lifted his eyes from the screen and stared at her a little, every now and then. She dropped a stich, cursing behind her teeth, and he smiled a little. But when he asked her if it was something for the baby, his voice was flat and neutral. "I didn't know you used to knit. Every day I discover something new about you."

She smiled a little, and kept doing her work, slowing a little as she spoke with him. "I haven't done this since I was little, but they say it's like riding a bike. Besides, how different can it be, making clothes for a child and for a doll, right?" she stood in silence for a short while, and then bit her lips, her eyes always on her hands. "I choose green wool. Because I don't know the sex of the baby yet." She almost felt like crying. Here she was, sitting in their living room with her husband, talking in singular about her pregnancy and their baby, like she was a single parent.

"I'm sorry if I scared you last night." He suddenly said, and she stopped to do what she was doing. She dropped her work at her side, and hugged her knees as she dared to meet his eyes a little; he was sad and worried, and it broke her heart. It was just like the first time they met each other, when she saw a broken man, a shadow, a shell, and wanted nothing more than mend his wounds.

"You were more scared than me, Jane."

He lowered his eyes a little. "Just, don't see too much in what I said last night. I was half asleep and a bit drunk." He paused, and looked at her with intention. "It won't happen again." He promised. She knew why he was saying the words, that he knew that every man she had been with, she had been scared of seeing them turning into her own father right before her eyes, and she nodded. Jane wasn't any different, and the previous day he had drunk more than usual, too, so she accepted his silent apology for what it was.

She started to work again on the socks, but then she decided that she had to say something, that it was now or never. So, she dropped her work again, and turned to face him. "You know what? I'm done listening to you. You say it was the alcohol talking for you? Bullshit, Jane. You've been having nightmares for days, and yesterday it was the first time you had anything to drink!"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Just don't worry about it, all right?"

She took a big breath, and reached out for him, her hand on his shoulder, hot on his skin. "You shouldn't worry about it. You know that it doesn't make any sense, Jane. Red John is gone. He can't get me any longer."

"I know." He agreed, between gritted teeth, refusing to meet her eyes as he said so, like admitting the truth would mean being defeated in some way.

"But do you? Really?" She asked, cupping his face and forcing him to lift his chin so that he would be looking at her in the eyes. "I know that dreams can be powerful. You don't need to believe in psychics to know it. The mind is a powerful tool, and there's probably no one who knows it better than you…"

"Teresa…" he said, closing his eyes and sighing a little, but leaning in her touch. He was tired, of everything, and he didn't felt like arguing with her. It would have made him more tired, madder, and then he would have been hyped up and would have said thing he would have come to regret sooner rather than later.

"No. We need to talk. Now." Her voice was stern, but yet filled with affection and worries. He opened his eyes, and lazily looked at her, seeing all kind of things: Teresa reprimanding her brothers, and her, being the perfect mother for her… their baby; he could imagine her, lecturing with a warm smile a dark-haired girl wearing a green hand-made pullover who underlined the greenest eyes he had ever seen.

He nodded, and then talked. "Listen, if it can be of any help, I went to see a doctor, all right?" He told her, and Teresa, despite it wasn't necessary, felt like crying. For someone like Jane, who hated doctors and hospitals, to get a check-up done, it was quite the big step. "He couldn't come up with a cause, but said it's probably very temporary and will probably vanish right of its own accord. And that worrying about it will only make matters worse."

Teresa smiled sweetly, and chuckled as she caressed his stubble. "Jane, it's not your fault, and there's nothing to be ashamed of. You know that I consider all that talk about potency in the bedroom and virility bullshit, right?"

"But it has to be my fault!" he groaned, standing on his foot and pacing in front of the couch, hands on his hips. "Because, I can tell you, it's not yours, as you've been the main star of all my triple X-rated fantasies for over ten years, and I've never had any trouble."

Smiling, she offered him her hand, and he took it, and allowed her to drag him on the couch; he sat at her side, half-laying on the piece of furniture, and put an arm around her shoulders, tugging her in his embrace. She nuzzled his neck, and he kissed her hair as they stood like that for a while, as close as they hadn't been in quite a long time. "I do want to make love to you, Teresa, but… I'm afraid to try. That I'll be humiliated again. That I'll disappoint you another time."

"Why didn't you want to have a baby with me? And I want the truth."

He sighed, and denied what she was thinking with a movement of his hands. "I told you why I didn't feel ready for the baby, and I'm telling you now that this doesn't have to do with your pregnancy."

"Right." She said, her voice filled with sarcasm. "Too bad that you started to have performance issues only after I told you I was pregnant."

"Please. Don't start playing the shrink with me." He stood up and went to the window; he stared at the garden, and hi body language told her he wanted the conversation done; but she wasn't going to give in that easily. She knew she was almost there, it was just like when was working a case, and could physically feel when she was going to have a big break. She knew she was that close to have him admitting why he didn't want the baby, and once he would have spoken, the barriers between them were going to fall down. But Jane didn't want to; she guessed it wasn't supposed to be a surprise, as she knew he hated when people tried to mess around in his head.

"You gave me many reasons, Jane. You told me about our jobs, about bad timing, about wanting me for yourself, even about my age… but you gave me too many reasons. You told me once, that when someone tells you too much, it's because they are hiding something. What are you hiding, Jane?"

He didn't answer, and she wondered if it was because he didn't had an answer, if it was because he had it but was scared it would hurt her, or because he didn't want to get hurt, himself. "Jane, I know it's because of Angela and Charlotte…" he looked at her in the way he did when he didn't want to listen to her saying their names, like she had broken a taboo or killed them right now, right before his eyes, with her very hands.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Are you afraid of losing this child, too?" she asked, tentatively, not daring to meet his eyes as she lowered her voice and gulped down saliva. "Jane, Red John and the Blake Society are gone."

"You're being ridiculous!" He snapped.

"I am not being ridiculous!" She said hotly, jumping to her feet, her eyes bright with the intensity of her emotion. "For a man with a supposedly logical mind, you seem remarkably anxious to avoid thinking this thing through!"

"Which thing are we talking about now?" He enquired sarcastically. "You seem to have changed the subject once or twice."

"I don't think I have," She told him, trying to be calm. "I think it's all part of the same thing. And if you do care about me, even a little, you'll at least try to do as I ask, and examine your own motives honestly." She paused, and took a big breath. "The problem with sex has only arisen since I've been pregnant. You didn't want us to have a baby…"

"Yet."

"All right! You didn't want for us to have a baby yet!" She gestured impatiently. "But you must see there's a connection. You know there is, if only you'll let yourself think about it."

"What the hell else do you imagine I've been doing these last weeks?" He demanded.

"Well, maybe you've been on the wrong track!" she said, somewhat aggressively.

Jane lowered his gaze on the floor, and shook his head. Then, suddenly, he met her eyes again, and walked in her direction, pacing, and indicating her with every step he took. "You want to know the truth? All right, that's the truth. I'm scared all the time, Teresa. Scared for you. Scared for this baby. And scared for me, because I couldn't survive if something would happen to the two of you. And I dream of it, Teresa, every night I have the same dream and I feel the same fear running through my veins, all right?"

She went to him, taking the few steps that were separating them, and hooked her arms around his neck. "We can deal with it." She said gently.

For seconds he was stiff and unyielding in her embrace, then he pulled her close and breathed in her hair, taking in her scent. "I'm just scared that something will happen to you too, like it did with Angie, just because I got you pregnant. And it's stupid, because you are pregnant, and if you would be in danger because of me, being married to me would be enough… but… I don't know. It's like… now that you are pregnant with the baby it's more… real. You are really mine, and… I'm scared I trapped you somehow, that people will know it and take advantage of the situation and… and…" he shook his head and sighed, not really knowing how much he was supposed to say or what he wanted to say; there was too much, and not enough words.

"Well, at least now I know for sure you aren't repelled by pregnancy…" she sighed, trying her best at being sarcastic.

"You've got to be kidding me!" He put her away from him a little and swept his eyes over the burgeoning curves of her body. "If anything it makes you more beautiful. I mean, have seen your breasts lately?"

"Jane?" she asked in his shirt. "if this is because you don't love me as you loved Angela… I'm all right with it. Really." She said, even if it took more strength that she had always supposed to. But now at least she was free, the truth out in the open, and Jane wasn't going to struggle to be honest with her, fearing to hurt her feelings.

He looked at her in shock, his eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about, woman?"

"You didn't marry me because you'd fallen madly in love, and I know I've expected too much. I suppose I've been too…" she stopped, took a big breath and gesticulated a little, like looking for the right word. "Well, you know that I'm in love with you, but it doesn't matter if you don't, or can't feel the same. Only I hope that someday… but if it's not going to happen, it's all right, I mean…"

He seemed thunderstruck as he grasped her shoulders. "Teresa, you don't know what you are talking about…"

"Jane, I know you care about me. But that's it. You don't love me. And it's all right if you still love Angela." She said, between sighs. She hadn't planned on crying, but the hormones were winning.

"Teresa… I do love you. And yes, a part of me will always love Angela, but it doesn't mean I can't love you too, or that I love you any less. It's just… I can't compare you two. Like I can't compare the man I was with the man I am today. Because of you."

"Jane…" Tears started in her eyes, and she heard her voice rise in a note of desperation. "Please, don't lie to me. It doesn't matter, so please… I don't need your empty promises and…"

"Teresa!" He shook her suddenly, speaking between his teeth. "Will you listen to me, you little idiot!?"

Her eyes widened, and he took a big breath before continuing, his eyes never leaving her own ones. "The first time I saw Angela, it was it. I saw her and loved her, and I still considered her my wife for a long time after she passed away. With you, it was different, it crept up on me. You've been my friend, my angel, for years. I always knew you were attractive, and I've always wondered how it would have felt, getting lost in you, but, it wasn't until I came back from Vegas that I understood that I was in love with you. But the time sucked, and then I had to leave and when I returned you said you didn't want for me to take decisions for you, so I decided to… to wait, I guess. But that day, at the party for Marcus, I understood I was risking being late, and that I wanted you as my wife, to have and to hold for all the years to come, that I wanted to make love to you, to know your body over and over again. But…when I kissed you, you told me it was Marcus you wanted."

"You've been in love with me… for so long?" she asked, tentatively, sobbing a little.

"Meh, you are a woman easy to love." He smiled of his most brilliant smile, and Teresa remembered the past, all the good time spend together. "God, Teresa, how could you not know?"

"You never told me… and then… you let me think it was all because of Marcus and…"

"Teresa, I always finished my letters with I love you, 104 times. And I told you when I asked you to marry me, but you didn't seem very interested. I thought you knew that altruistic is the last thing I could be. Marrying a girl I didn't want just to save her from a sticky social situation is definitely the last thing I would do."

"But I thought…" she paused. "I thought you wanted companionship. And that.. you wanted me because I was safe and…"

"Oh, Teresa, you've never been safe, trust me." He shook his head as he spoke again, his smiling eyes filled with glassy tears. "My heart is yours, Teresa, and anything else you want that it's in my power to give you."

"But you didn't want to give me a baby."

"I know it's stupid, but… I felt that if I gave you my child, the world would know you were mine, and… it would put you in danger." She made a sudden movement, and he saw that she wanted to slap him. He couldn't blame. "I know you are a cop, and you are better suited than me to take care of you, but try to understand where I come from."

He pulled her fully into his arms, his hand on her hair, his cheek against her temple. "And I love you so much, and I don't know why I can't make love to you…" he said, with a hint of despair. "I love you, I want you ... terribly. I just don't understand why my body won't let me make love to you."

"I thought it was guilt... that you felt you were being unfaithful to Angela and Charlotte's memory." she said, her voice muffled.

"No, nothing like that. The only thing I had to be guilty about was putting you in danger …" His voice trailed off, as though his words had surprised himself, and Teresa lifted her head from his chest and looked at him, her eyes wide, seeing the dawning comprehension in his face that matched her own. "Oh, God. So… if you are right and this is the reason I couldn't…" he paused. "What can we do about it?"

She giggled as she kissed the skin of his neck, her hands skimming over his toned muscles as he looked at the ceiling and gulped down saliva. "What about a controlled experiment, mister?"

"Are you sure?" he asked with doubt in his voice, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. Teresa parted from him, and took his head between her hands, and forced him to look at her.

"Jane, I can't promise you the impossible. I can't see the future. But I can promise that as long as I'll live, I'll be yours, and that if something were to happen to me, it wouldn't be your fault. But there is something I know." She smiled, and kissed him deeply. "I am sure about this."

"It may not work…"

"'It doesn't matter. It's going to be all right, I'm certain of it. If not tonight, then sometime soon. We've got all the time in the world, Patrick."

At the sound of his given name, something she had never used, something trembled with joy in his heart as it exploded with joy; he smiled, and tipped her head back with his hands and kissed her deeply and thoroughly until she was breathless and flushed, clinging to his shoulders to keep her balance. "It will never be long enough to show you how much I love you, Teresa."

She smiled, and taking his hands in her owns, she guided him in their bedroom, with the feeling that everything was going to be all right, now that everything was out in the open. They would be fine: they were wise, they were safe, and they were loved. All of them.