A/N: Well, this chapter took me longer to write than I expected. I also have important exams coming up all week next week (my Bac for the french readers) as it is my last year in High School, so I was pretty distracted! I'm also sorry to say that I probably won't be able to post the next chapter before two weeks, because of said exams.

So this chapter is how I see Lisbon coping with Jane's absence... And you'll meet Josh. I almost called him Marcus, but that would've been too weird.

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Guest 1: I'm glad you're following this! I never know with the guest reviews :) I hope you'll like this chapter... And I'm planning on reuniting them maybe at the end of the next chapter, maybe. It's hard to say for sure, because I might have other ideas popping in my head by the time I write it.

finolagrace: Thank you for your kind review! It means a lot. I wanted to send you a PM but apparently you blocked that function... So I'm thanking you here :)

Disclamer: Still don't own the Mentalist, but who knows, you should never say never! (Who am I kidding)

Lisbon didn't think she could handle it any longer.

She was tired of being alone, tired of feeling utterly miserable and useless. Tired of spending her time mourning the not so old days at the CBI, when her team was still reunited... The days when Jane was still by her side. And most of all, she was tired of longing for him, a man that was literally out of her reach, and might never be again. Two months after Jane had left and still she spent too many sleepless nights worrying about him; hell, he could be dead right now for all she knew. Those were her worst nightmares, the ones in which she couldn't save him; the ones that had her waking up with a jolt in ungodly hours, sweating, shaking and breathless, tears running down her cheeks. She was wasting up inside; and the worst part was that she knew it, knew what she was doing to herself. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt could see it behind every facade she put up for them, behind her forced smiles; yet there was nothing they could do.

She moved to the Washington, the Evergreen State, not only because she didn't have a job in California anymore, but in an attempt to make the pain lessen. Sacramento held too many memories that she both cherished and hated.

But she soon realized that even a clean break couldn't heal her wounds; they were too deep. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't forget. Her job as a sheriff wasn't helping either. The worst case she got so far was a stolen bicycle. The boring job only had her remembering more easily, with all the spare time she had. Hell, she never thought she'd miss the crazy stunts Jane pulled that ended with her filling a lot more paperwork than initially planned. But she did, badly. Then her mind would drift to thoughts of him and that last phone call. Her life was still centered on Jane, even with him gone forever. She always knew he would be her downfall, but she was far from imagining it would be like this. She was in a bad place, and she had no damn idea how she would pull herself out of it this time.

Then his first letter arrived.

To say she had been surprised to see Samantha Barsocky on her doorstep in Washington, on a late Saturday afternoon, was an understatement. Of course she remembered her, but had only encountered her twice, with Jane. The first time was for a case involving Jane's brother in law Danny; the second time wasn't too long ago, to bring baby Caitlyn back to her family. They had been grateful for her help, and she believed they now regarded her more as a good friend of Jane's than a government cop. Yet why would one of his carnie friends want to see her?

"Hi," Lisbon said, confused. "Can I help you?"

The woman firmly looked at her, and then stepped inside her house without permission. As odd as Lisbon found her behavior, she didn't comment, instead shutting the door behind her and heading to the living room. She was fairly certain now that she was here because of Jane. She gulped and tried to push down the anxiousness that was building in her chest. Please let it not be bad news, she prayed.

Sam scanned her from head to toe, making her feel uncomfortable, before her scrutinizing eyes bore into hers, as if searching for something.

"Patrick sent me here," she said in her African American accent, confirming Lisbon's suspicions.

Even though she had guessed the why to Sam's presence, the confirmation still had her pulse quicken. She breathed in a sigh of relief. He was fine, he made it. Thank God.

Sam continued. "He sent me a package, with instructions and a note to give these to you." She pulled out an envelope with Lisbon scrawled on it in Patrick Jane's handwriting. Sam also searched in her bag for the other object, a sea shell. It didn't go unnoticed by her how Lisbon took them hesitantly but with care. She lightly traced her name with her thumb, as if assuring herself it was real. She didn't bother hiding the emotions the two items she was holding stirred in her; her eyes had filled with tears and she wasn't quite ready to speak yet.

"You'll have to buy a burner phone. Once you do, call this number." Sam handed her a folded post-it. "We'll be able to contact you when we'll receive his letters. Pete and I will take turns handing them to you, in different given locations of course."

Lisbon nodded, blinking away the tears. After a pause, Sam added, "You must mean a lot to him if he's willing to risk his cover to send you letters." She gave her a knowing look, before heading back towards the entrance door.

Lisbon cleared her throat and quickly composed herself. "Thank you."

The black woman nodded, and then she was gone. Lisbon closed the door behind her, before leaning back against it and closing her eyes at the wave of relief that engulfed her right now. He had sent her a letter. He must've guessed how anxious she'd be, she figured.

She walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. She didn't know what to expect from Jane with this letter. Was he even going to mention the last words they had exchanged during that faithful phone call? She was slightly nervous, which was silly, she thought.

She first examined the shell and its many elegant brown spots, rubbing the cool and soft surface with her fingers before bringing it to her ear to listen to the ocean. She found the echoes of the waves that had once crashed against it comforting, and closed her eyes. An image struck to her, one of Jane on that beach several months ago, the wind blowing in his face and his hair reflecting bronze with the last rays of sunshine. You have no idea what you've meant to me, what you mean to me.

She sighed, putting the shell down. She hadn't known then but she did know now. Maybe she would've been better off not knowing, maybe moving on would've been easier in this damned situation. But her feelings had been reciprocated; it hadn't been a one-sided love like she had feared for so long. He loved her too, and that thought would be enough to keep her hoping about a better future. With newfound courage she reached for the letter.

If Sam had been correct, he would send her other ones.

She would be alright.

Of course she had tried to move on.

Not only for Jane but for herself.

She wanted to be in control of her life again. She was too dependent on Jane's letters, which arrived once a month; twice when she was lucky. She couldn't continue living like this, because not only was it unhealthy, but she wasn't getting any younger. She dreaded spending the rest of her life alone, surrounded by a dozen cats - she was a dog person though. That thought once made her laugh, but now had her shivering as it was a very real possibility, with the rate in which she was moving on. Having kids was too late for her now, but she still wanted to go home to a waiting someone and feel safe, cherished and loved.

So when a random guy she had bumped into at the grocery store had asked her out, she had accepted; but not without some slight hesitation. It had only lasted a month, abruptly ending because he - Mike was his name - had accused her of being too secretive. She hadn't expected that one, so it had been a real blow in the face; but she had been so accustomed to Jane reading her mind like an open book these last eight years that she had partially forgotten how to properly open up to someone.

There had been others after Mike: some one night stands, too, but nothing that had lasted more than a couple of weeks.

Then she met Josh, more than a year after Jane's departure. Josh Henderson was the owner of a local coffee shop she often went over to, because their coffee was excellent and the pancakes were the best ones she'd ever tasted. Josh had noticed her being a regular client, and so had gone to introduce himself. Since then he would usually come by her booth and sit across from her to talk. Conversations flowed easily between them, and spending time with him always enlightened her days; Josh was kind, funny, good looking, and a very bad liar. She found that last criteria and his straight-forwardness very attractive. So when he found the courage to ask her out, she accepted, as if it were the most natural thing to do.

Faith was cruel, though, as that very same day she received a letter from Jane.

She wasn't so sure dating Josh was a good idea anymore. She felt like she was betraying Jane in some way, and the thought was disturbing. It probably had to do with how she wanted this relationship to work this time.

Josh was the type of man that was strong, dependable, and safe; exactly what she told herself she needed. Exactly what Jane wasn't. She made the effort to open up this time around; and he would always listen, compassionate and understanding, when she would share details about her days back at the CBI. And of course, talking about the CBI meant talking about Patrick Jane. It was inevitable. So she did, had told his story and how he had come to kill one of the most vicious serial killers of the decade. He didn't ask too many questions about him after that, to her great relief. As far as he knew, they had been close friends.

Things with Josh were nice and easy; and so the weeks turned into months. But she found that time couldn't heal all the wounds. She still thought about Jane, too often for someone who was in a relationship with another man; and still treasured his arriving letters more than she should. So maybe she hadn't completely moved on; but at least she was trying.

Life was comfortable. With Josh she had the stability she had been looking for so long. They had their routines. And when she would come home, he would be waiting for her on the couch, standing up to greet her with a kiss. She was happier than she'd been since Jane's departure more than a year ago now. She was satisfied, and didn't feel lonely anymore.

She presented him to Rigsby and Van Pelt when they came by to visit her. That was a big step she had taken in their relationship, and even though he could never really understand the significance of it, he appreciated the gesture nonetheless.
She felt like this was what Jane would have wanted for her. And Grace and Wayne seemed to approve of Josh... He was a good man, no doubt.

It was six months today since their first date, and they were going to celebrate that. She was wearing a fitted black dress for the occasion, as they were heading to someplace fancy for dinner, cloth napkin and everything. Josh hadn't wanted to do things by halves, even though she had insisted that a late night picnic someplace nice would have sufficed.

He complimented her when he saw her, said she looked beautiful, and she shushed him playfully to try and hide her embarrassment. But during the car drive she couldn't help but notice he looked nervous, which only had the aggravating effect of making her feel nervous as well.

Dinner went by smoothly as they made small talk in between bites of the succulent food. It was once they both finished their crème brûlées when Josh's expression suddenly turned grave. His eyes bore into hers, and she had to will herself not to look away from the intensity they held. Any woman would've been flattered to have a man look at her like that; but it made her anxious more than anything else. He reached out for her hands, and she let him take them, not without some apprehension.

"I know when something's real," he started, his eyes never leaving hers, "and I feel that way about us." He paused, lowering his head, before meeting her gaze once more. "Do you? Feel that way, about us?"

Oh God. Her heart started beating wildly in her chest, and she could only hope he hadn't noticed how her palms had started to sweat. She suddenly found that she didn't quite like straight-forwardness so much anymore.
She took a couple of seconds to steady herself before answering, "Yes, I do."

He smiled, oblivious to her slight hesitation, then leaned over the table. "Look, one thing I do know is that when you feel that way about someone, you have to hang on. Because it doesn't happen very often."

She felt sick, suddenly regretting taking that crème brûlée. She knew what was coming, the big one, and was in no way ready for it. She had to stop him right now.

"Josh..."

"Let me finish," he silenced her softly, squeezing her hands. "I'm not getting any younger. You're a wonderful woman, the woman I can see myself growing old with. I love you, Teresa."

He loved her. She should've expected that after six months spent together. But she hadn't, or perhaps hadn't wanted to look too deeply. Hadn't wanted to know.

One thing was blatantly clear: she wasn't ready for what was going to come up next. Not at all. But this was Josh, a man she trusted who could make her happy. A man she could learn to love with time. And it had been six months. Wasn't it about time she took that last step towards him?

It would mean giving herself entirely to this man.

But it would also mean letting Patrick go.

Her eyes filled with tears threatening to spill, but not for the reason that encouraged Josh to get up, bend down on one knee, pull the goddamned ring out of his pocket and ask, "Will you marry me?"

A/N: I'm sorry to leave you guys hanging like this, but I couldn't resist finishing this on a cliff hanger... Please review if you liked this, I really appreciate it when people take a little of their time to leave a message to say what they thought about the chapter. They make my day!

Till the next time... Thank you for reading.