Author's Note: First of all, apologies to Amira and anyone else trying to remain unspoiled who were ambushed by the one in my author's note a couple of chapters back. I will be more careful in the future! Second, thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter. And third, you might need a Kleenex for the end of this chapter. I spent the morning at a memorial service and, as usual, used writing as therapy. And last, this chapter is dedicated to my dear friend JSL. The world is a much less witty and kind place without her in it.

Chapter 7: Angels

They were actually able to leave the office at a normal time, and Jane suggested they fly to L.A. that night so they'd have more time at the house over the weekend. Lisbon agreed that driving would leave them almost no time in Malibu, but she shuddered to think what last-minute tickets would cost. "I hate flying," she pointed out.

"It's safer than driving," Jane replied.

"I know, but nobody cares if I take my gun in my car," she grumbled. Airport security was so difficult that they almost never flew anymore, no matter how far they were going. Well, that and budget cuts.

"We're going to do domestic chores, Teresa. You don't need to be armed."

"What if a disciple finds us there? You'll be glad I've got my gun then."

"Fine. But we need to leave now if you're going to go through all that." He'd packed in record time, and Lisbon did the same. It was easy when you knew exactly how long you were going to be gone, which was rarely the case for her.

The annoyances of airport security gave way to the stress of trying to make their flight. Lisbon nearly knocked Jane over after they got on the plane, since he stopped immediately. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"These are our seats. I'm putting my bag up." He hoisted his small suitcase into the overhead compartment and reached for hers. "Would you prefer the window or the aisle?"

He'd sprung for first class? She hadn't bothered to look at her seat assignment. "Oh my God, how much did this cost?" she whispered.

"Don't worry. This isn't a vacation; you'll work for it," he grinned.

She slid into the window seat, trying not to gawk. This was the first time she had ever been seated in first class.

"Just relax and enjoy it," Jane advised, sitting beside her and taking her hand.

"You don't need to blow a lot of money to impress me, you know," she said after a moment.

"I know. But I have a lot to make up to you. I figured sparing you coach seating was the very least I could do. Besides, I hate it."

She smiled a little at his attempt to make his generosity sound selfish. Though it was true she was going along to help him, she was grateful not to have been left behind again. To be with him, knowing he was okay, was well worth a little home repair. "So what needs done at your house?"

"Probably a lot. I called my old handyman and asked him to meet us there in the morning. He can help us figure it out. He also recommended a realtor, who's meeting us in the afternoon. I'm hoping we can get this done and still have a little relaxation time."

She thought he was being overly optimistic about a house that had sat empty for a decade now, but she decided not to point that out. She knew he hadn't entirely neglected it, after all.

mmm

Usually flying wore her out, but with a comfortable seat and Jane to snuggle up with, it was a much better experience than she remembered. She didn't even argue with him at the car rental counter when he asked for a convertible, and she was rewarded when he immediately dropped the keys in her hand. It was nearly dark, but even the traffic didn't dampen her enjoyment of the trip.

The hotel was beautiful, and their room had a stunning view of the water. It also boasted a whirlpool tub big enough for two, which Jane encouraged her to use, even going so far as to start the water for her.

"What's with you?" she asked. "Do I smell bad or something?"

"No," he grinned. "I just have a fantasy about finding you in the bath, that's all."

"You have a fantasy about me?" Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised, but she was.

"I have many, actually. Some I'm more attached to than others." His sly smile made her heart beat faster.

This was the vacation part of their trip, she reminded herself. After they started working on the house, he would probably lose his carefree attitude. There were bound to be a lot of emotions involved in saying good-bye to the last place he'd seen his wife and daughter alive.

"Okay, fine," she said. "How does this fantasy of yours go?"

mmm

Sex in a whirlpool tub turned out to be a lot more awkward than either of them anticipated, and afterward, they fell into each other's arms and laughed. When Lisbon caught her breath, she said, "Sex shouldn't take that much work."

"We were a lot younger when I started having that fantasy," Jane remarked. "Besides, you do yoga. Shouldn't you be more limber?"

She retaliated by tickling the back of his knee, making him twitch violently and slosh water over the side of the tub. "I think there's more water on the floor than in here with us," she said.

"So I'll tip housekeeping more than usual," he said. "That was utterly worth it. But now I would like to go lie on a nice soft bed that won't bruise me when I move involuntarily."

She snickered a little. "If you insist, old man."

He tickled her, grinning like a madman as her shriek echoed off the bathroom walls. Then they drained the tub, dried off, and curled up together in the big, soft bed. Jane played with the tendrils of her hair that had gotten damp when her loose bun had started to come apart during their exertions, then kissed her gently. "Thank you for coming with me."

She held him tighter. "Thank you for not leaving me behind."

"I think...this might be hard for me to do," he said, very softly.

"I know," she said quietly. "But there's nothing you need to hide from me, okay? Whatever you're feeling, it's okay. You should let yourself process this however you need to. Don't worry about what I'm thinking. I'll still be here when we're done, I promise."

"Oh, Teresa," he sighed into her hair. "I don't deserve you. Not in the least."

"Too bad. You're stuck with me," she assured him, kissing his shoulder. "Now get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

mmm

Saturday was a long, busy day. The handyman came up with a lengthy list of repairs, all fairly minor, and got to work. Jane went and bought some cleaning supplies and paint, intending to tackle the master bedroom, but after he got back he seemed to be looking for any excuse to put it off. Lisbon finally sent him out to get them some lunch, but when she went upstairs to do the project herself, she stared at the smiley face and realized that this was Angela's blood. The last piece of her body, in a way, that Jane could still touch. She couldn't do this for him; it was too important, too fraught with emotion. But God, she wished she could spare him the pain.

She went back downstairs and continued sorting through the kitchen cupboards. Jane had called a charity earlier and arranged for them to pick all the furniture up, but he'd told her to look at the dishes and other small, shippable things to see if she wanted any of it. She'd decided instantly that she would keep the teacups and saucers, and maybe the rest of the beautiful china, though it would probably stay packed away since she rarely entertained. There were also some expensive small appliances she would like to have. The food processor in particular looked like one she had seen before and liked, but hadn't bought because she rarely cooked.

But Jane liked to cook, and he was always complaining about how badly equipped her kitchen was. She wondered how much of this he had bought and how much had been Angela's doing. Would it be too weird for him to walk into her kitchen and see something that reminded him of his old life? She was having a hard time judging how he was handling this.

When he returned with lunch for the three of them, he was his usual cheerful self again. He had also bought boxes and packing material, so after they were finished eating, she went back to the kitchen and started packing. He followed to lend a hand.

"Is this okay?" she asked.

"Of course it is. I want you to take whatever you like. The rest I'll give away."

"Isn't there anything you want?"

"The things that matter to me are in a safe deposit box. I'll come down when the house sells and get them."

She packed in silence for a while. When she couldn't stand it any longer, she said, "You'll tell me if any of this bothers you, right? I don't want you to feel weird about it."

"I don't have any emotional attachment to the dishes, Lisbon," he said with exaggerated patience. Then he bent and pulled out a griddle from the cookware cupboard, which she hadn't gotten to yet. "Well, maybe this. On Saturday mornings, I'd cook pancakes. I'd make them in all kinds of shapes. Charlotte loved that."

"Then pack it," she said.

Jane stared at the griddle for a moment, then reached for the bubble wrap. "Actually, we should probably take all the pots and pans. Yours aren't in prime shape anymore."

"It's still the same cheap set I bought right out of college," she admitted.

"I thought as much," he said. "But what I can't quite figure out is where the seventies stoneware came from."

She smiled. "My aunt bought herself some nice new dishes around the time I started on the force in San Francisco, and her daughter didn't want the old ones. My aunt got them when she got married. So she offered them to me. I was dirt poor and grateful to have them. There's even a gravy boat and a soup tureen somewhere."

Jane stopped what he was doing and put his arms around her. "I want to give you the best of everything."

She had no doubt that was what he'd done for his wife and daughter. Everything in the house was high quality, and she doubted either of them had ever wanted for anything. "I don't need much," she told him. "Just you."

"You have me," he whispered into her hair. "I spent so long not being able to give you anything, Teresa. Now I want to give you everything."

She appreciated the sentiment, but she was mildly terrified that he was going to start buying her extravagant jewelry or furs or a Ferrari. Though maybe that last one wouldn't be so bad. Still, she really should start thinking about where they would live so he could pour his energies into that.

After this was over. This was all he could handle right now. "I want to give you everything you want, too," she told him. "You haven't let anyone give you anything in so long. I want you to be happy. I want you to laugh more. I never want you to be hurt again." But he was going to be hurt, she knew, when he finally made himself go upstairs and erase the smiley face. She whispered, "I wish you would let someone else get rid of that goddamned smiley face."

"No," he sighed. "I have to do that myself. It's the last...the last step in getting him out of my life."

"I know," she said.

"But it makes a difference knowing you'll be here when I'm done," he told her. "It makes all the difference."

mmm

Jane never got around to the smiley that day. By the time the realtor was done making recommendations about staging, talking Jane into paying for rental furniture even though he had perfectly good furniture being loaded onto a charity truck, it was dinner time. Lisbon was frustrated by what seemed like pointless extravagance, but she managed to keep her mouth shut until they were at a lovely seafood restaurant Jane had chosen.

"I know you think this is ridiculous," Jane said as their drinks arrived. "But the kind of people with enough money to buy that house have certain expectations. Trust me. That was all necessary."

"It's your house, not mine," she pointed out. "And you're right, I don't know anything about selling houses."

"I didn't say that," he reproved.

"I know," she sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired. Someone woke me up at the crack of dawn wanting sex."

He grinned. "It's not like you were reluctant. But if you like, I can wait until after we're done to wake you tomorrow morning."

"Ha ha." Like she would willingly miss a single second of sex with him, and he knew it. "So what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"Our flight's at four. We need to finish packing and get everything to a shipping place before lunch so we can enjoy a nice stroll on the beach before we set out for our journey home."

"Sounds good."

He reached across the table for her hand. "I'm really glad you came with me."

"I am too." She returned his lovely smile. Then she asked, "Which of your fantasies shall we try to act out tonight?"

He chuckled. "Hm. There are so many to choose from."

"Well, pick one. And I'm telling you right now, any of them that involve the office are so not happening."

"Oooh, a challenge. Care to place a wager?"

"No betting on our sex life," she said firmly. "Which will never take place anywhere on the premises of the CBI."

"If you say so, dear." His eyes were lit with mischief, and she wondered if any of his fantasies involved her jumping him on a restaurant table. She was pretty sure he had one involving his car that was also never going to happen.

"I do say so." She took a sip of her wine.

Jane steepled his fingers and gave her his best evil mastermind smirk. "We shall see. But for tonight, I'm thinking I would be satisfied with a less public venue."

"I'm relieved to hear it."

"As it happens, I've developed quite a few scenarios involving hotel rooms. All those times I lay awake at night knowing you were just on the other side of the wall gave me plenty of time to think."

"Well, you have until we get back to the hotel to decide on your favorite," she said.

mmm

The next morning, Lisbon was surprised and a little concerned when Jane not only wanted sex first thing in the morning, but again after they'd had their room service breakfast and were ready to leave. This couldn't be normal, she thought. But in the end it didn't matter if he was seeking solace in her body or just trying to put off doing something difficult. She'd said she would be there for him, and if he needed to have sex with her every ten minutes, that's what she'd do. At least the bathroom counter was an improvement over the tub.

He helped her pack the few remaining items they'd decided to keep, staying so close to her that their hands brushed or their shoulders bumped almost every time she moved, but finally they were done, and there was only one thing left on their list.

"Do you want me to come up and help?" she asked.

"No." He shook his head.

Maybe this would be easier if she weren't in the house at all, she thought. That way he wouldn't be overheard if he wanted to cry or shout or whatever he needed to do. "I'll take the boxes out to the car, then," she said. They'd made sure to pack them light enough that one person could carry them. "And maybe go to the shipping place we found."

"That sounds good. Bring lunch back with you, would you? We can have a picnic," he said with deceptive cheer.

"Okay." She gave him a smile, hoping he could read all the things she didn't think it would be wise to say: that he should call if he needed her, that she wished he didn't have to go through this, that she would be praying for him.

Maybe he did, because he pulled her against him and kissed her thoroughly. It was a long time before he let her go.

mmm

Her errands took longer than she'd anticipated, and she was anxious by the time she pulled back into the driveway. Grabbing the bag of food she'd gotten at an upscale deli near the shipping store, she hurried into the house to find Jane waiting for her on the living room floor, one of the dust covers serving as a picnic blanket. He was sipping a cup of tea using the cup and saucer they'd left unpacked for that purpose.

"I was beginning to think you'd met a handsome guy at the shipping place and run off with him," Jane teased as he stood and relieved her of the bag.

"He couldn't afford to fly me first class," she replied. "You have paint in your hair."

"I'll take a shower before we leave. That's why I got us a late checkout," he said. "You got me a blueberry muffin!"

She smiled at his delight, though her heart was hurting at the redness of his eyes and the slight hoarseness of his voice. "I thought you could use one."

He gave her a big, smacking kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied. "And as further evidence, I got you an orange to go with your sandwich."

"Good. I'm starving." He began unwrapping his sandwich eagerly.

They ate quickly, having worked up an appetite. Then Lisbon began picking up the trash, stopping when she realized that Jane had gone still and quiet. "Do you...want to be alone?" she asked tentatively.

"No," he said hoarsely. Then he grabbed her up in a tight hug, burying his face in her hair.

She held him, wishing she had the words to make this easier for him. This house must have so many memories of his family, of a time when he was happy. Leaving it behind had to be hard. She rubbed his back and slid her other hand into his hair, stroking and petting, trying to help him remember that although his wife and daughter were gone, he was still loved. Still cherished. Still valued, not just for closing cases, but for the man he was.

His hands began to move as well, but his touch was not intended for comfort. He knew exactly how to set her nerves alight, and he could do it with breathtaking speed. She'd always thought she needed time to become aroused, but she knew differently now. All she needed was a lover who knew not only how her body worked, but how her mind worked. She'd feared at first that once she held no more mysteries for him, he would become bored. But she hadn't taken into account how much comfort he drew from the familiar.

But as much as she wanted to comfort him, she was extremely uncomfortable with where this was happening. When he pulled her shirt out of her jeans and began unfastening them, she pulled her mouth away from his long enough to gasp out, "Are you sure you want to do this here?"

"Yes," he muttered, trying to reunite their lips.

"I don't think this is a good idea," she managed to get out, pushing at him with one hand.

He let out a groan of frustration and looked down at her. "Don't tell me the fearless Agent Lisbon believes in ghosts."

There was just enough mockery in his tone to tell her he was goading her. She ignored it. "I don't," she said, holding his gaze. She hesitated to say what she was thinking, but in the end she knew he wouldn't be dissuaded by anything but the truth. "But I believe in angels. And yours are here."

For just a second, he looked stricken, and she felt sick with regret. Then he rolled to his side, pulling her with him, and tucked his face into her neck, holding her tightly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She felt the moist heat of his open-mouthed gasps against her neck, followed by the wet spots of tears. Her own eyes watered, and she tightened her embrace. He had not cried in front of her before, though there had been times she'd wondered if he might. And while she was very sorry she had caused him pain, she was relieved he was letting it out.

After a while, his breathing evened out, and he lifted his face from her hair, moving to rest his chin on top of her head. He cleared his throat twice before he started to speak. "This house was once full of love and laughter and happiness. But for the last ten years, it's only seen horror and grief and regret. And hate." He paused, then continued, "Another family will live here and make new happy memories, I hope. But before I leave it for the last time—"

He choked, and she stroked his hair, feeling her own tears sliding down her cheeks to his neck, mingling with the traces of his own.

"Before I leave it, I want one more happy memory. Something to wipe away the bad ones, or at least make them less powerful. I know it's foolish—"

"No, it's not," she whispered.

"But I don't think they would grudge it to me," he continued.

No, they wouldn't. She was sure of it. "Of course not."

"I know you're not comfortable with this. But—"

"Ssh," she said gently. "I'm sorry I stopped you. We can do whatever you want."

He let out a long sigh of relief and pressed a kiss against her neck. Then he lifted his head to kiss her lips. She tasted the salt of their combined tears and lifted a hand to wipe at his damp cheek.

Several long, deep kisses later, he pulled back to look at her and managed a sly grin, despite his teary eyes. "Whatever I want?" he echoed. "Are you sure you want to commit to that, Teresa? What I want might involve your handcuffs."

"Too bad I left them at home," she said, smiling gently at him. "How about whatever we can do on this floor without crippling ourselves?"

"Is that a request to be on top?" he asked.

She glanced around them at the curtainless windows. New ones were being brought in to complement the furniture that would be used in the staging. She decided to minimize her risk of exposure if any peeping Toms might be around. "No thanks."

Jane grinned at her, and she guessed he knew what she was thinking. "Better to bruise my knees than yours? I'm glad to see that martyr complex of yours has its limits."

"Martyr complex my ass," she muttered, more for effect than out of real annoyance. She was rewarded with a chuckle as he went back to work on her clothes.

mmm

When they were done, it was definitely time to leave. They picked up their trash, grabbed the teacup and saucer, and headed for the door. Lisbon pretended not to notice when Jane stopped on the threshold, putting their things in the car and getting into the driver's seat. When he joined her a few minutes later, she let herself have one quick look and then started the car.

"Look," Jane said suddenly. She glanced through the windshield where he was pointing, just in time to see two white birds fly past, then turn and head out over the ocean. They were beautiful, and she wondered if they were a sign. Or maybe a visitation.

Jane looked out the side window and was quiet as she drove. She turned on the radio and found a jazz station she knew he would like, leaving him to his thoughts.

mmm

When they reached their hotel room, Lisbon quickly thew the trash away and opened her mostly packed suitcase to tuck the teacup and saucer in, using her clothes as padding.

"Jane? I thought you were going to take a shower and get the paint out of your hair," she said when she turned and found him watching her.

He had a distant expression. "The reason I broke down when you mentioned angels is—" He hesitated.

"Patrick," she said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to explain anything. I'm sorry I said it."

He shook his head. "That last Halloween, Charlotte was an angel. She was beautiful. The picture just came to mind and suddenly I remembered how excited she was and how much fun we had trick-or-treating. And it just struck me... I mean, it's not like I didn't know I was never going to hear her laugh again. But suddenly it just seemed like I couldn't bear it."

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry." She put her arms around him and hugged.

"She would get so excited sometimes that her voice would just bounce off the walls and echo a little. And I'll never—"

She felt her tears start again as he broke off, swallowing hard. "It's a process," she said. "Grief comes and goes in waves. Sometimes you'll think you're fine and then something, a sound or a smell or a song, brings it all back."

Jane slid a hand into her hair and laid his cheek against her temple. "I cried so much while I was gone. I thought I was done."

"I don't think we're ever done grieving. Sometimes I'll see someone in the distance and think, just for a second, that it's my mom. And then, for a minute, it's like it just happened." She laid her head against his shoulder. "We never really get over loss. We just learn to live with it."

"I thought I had," he sighed.

"No, you decided that revenge would make it all better. It didn't, so now you have to grieve like the rest of us."

He made a harrumphing sound. "Revenge did make it better. It enabled me to be with you."

"You just always have to have the last word, don't you?" she grumbled. "Well, unless you want to explain to the first class flight attendant why you have paint in your hair while you're flirting with her, you should get in the shower."

"I did not flirt with Amy," Jane protested. "I merely wanted my tea the way I like it. And champagne to celebrate our first trip as an engaged couple."

"Whatever. Shower." She gave him a gentle push in that direction.

"You're not joining me?" He gave her his lonely puppy look, and she was tempted. But she also had a lump forming on the back of her head from banging it on the floor in the throes of her mind-blowing orgasm. Besides, she was beginning to worry that she would walk funny tomorrow.

"We don't have time for that," she replied. "You have ten minutes before we need to leave. We have to drop the car off before we catch our flight."

He sighed. "You're making me worry the romance is going out of our relationship."

"Says the man who's had sex three times today and has a reasonable chance at four if we don't miss our flight and have to sleep in the airport," she retorted.

He grinned at her and headed for the shower.