From One-shot,. the story has been promoted to multi-chapter, although I'm not quite sure how many more you'll have; Many of you asked for a sequel, and so, I thought about giving Annie a bit more or space (even if she is only mentioned once in this chapter)... and, of course, I've decided to gie a way more space to the marvelous Jisbon romance!

I just wanted to say thank you to: EternalDarkness007, Laurore, Martiny carzy, JackSam, , LOLY POP, LeeLou09 who took time to review, and to everyone who put me and/ the story on alert and/or in thier fav. You're all great, and you can't imagine how happy you made me!

Anyway... here there is chapter 3 for you all, and, as always... I'm incredible sorry, but I still don't own the Mentalist; otherwise, we'd be seeing Jisbon there as well; I don't own the resturant "The Kitchen" from Sacramento either, and, that's a real shame, their strawberries with cream, chocolate and shortbread... yep, I'm a sucker for strawberries! There's Romeo and Juleit in this chapter as well, and I don't happen to own this incredible Sackesperian drama as well...


As soon as she arrived at home, the realization of what was going to happen hit Lisbon, along with the time: she had spent the entire day at work and then at the hospital, allowing herself just a quick lunch in order to make Annie eat something that could be closed to "edible" or "healthy", (because, if there was one thing Claire was obsessed with, it was food; besides, she had already lost the mantle of favorite family member in favor of Jane, and Annie wasn't the kind of kid who hold a grudge for too long) and now, stopping smiling like the idiot she had turned into, she had less than an hour to get a shower, shave, apply make-up, find the perfect dress that could impress Jane enough, and… and she stopped to run on the stairs and come back in the living room, looking, stunned, at the brand new dress hanger that was there, leaning against the back of her sofa, with a small envelope with her name on.

Almost scared, Lisbon took the envelope in her hands, and started to giggle like a schoolgirl as soon as she realized who wrote it: the linear, ordinate, elegant and classy calligraphy was unique, and, even if the man was totally against paperwork, she was able to recognize it everywhere; she didn't even need to check the signature to confirm her suspects: Jane.

Carefully, she opened it, and read every word, every line, giggling and smiling, forgetting about everything, focused only on the piece of paper in her hands, on the man who wrote said piece of paper and the epiphanies of the day.

My dear Teresa,

I'm well aware of the fact that such a beautiful creature has to possesses something appropriated for our evening together, but I thought that, with everything that went on today, I'd save you the problem of spending too much time wondering what you should wear – besides, you helped me so much in so many occasions, and this is the least I can do for you. I hope you'll like it, and don't feel offended.

Don't worry, I didn't ask Van Pelt your size: it's just, after so long, I know you. I may not know everything about you, but I'm looking forward to, my dear…

Just remember, I may have said them while flirting, but I meant every word I said today, and even more. Wait for me, my beautiful Teresa; I'll be there soon… Patrick.

p.s. Even if I'd put it back there, I'd remove the spare key from under the doormat; it's not exactly the safest place to put it.

For the second time in the day, she left out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and, even if she was, indeed, in a relative hurry, she couldn't resist the temptation to look immediately to what he had took for her; she zipped down the protection of the dress, and found the most amazing thing she had ever seen in her whole life: a knee-length silk red cocktail dress, sleeveless, cut just under the breast, a bit in empire style, with a flying gown that looked like a cloud; she skimmed over the soft fabric, lingering over it, giggling as she had never done before: Jane was really doing a number on her, making her feel like never in her life before, and, to her surprise, it wasn't the scary feeling she thought she could get while thinking about Patrick; of course, it was… weird, but, as soon as she run again on the stairs, in direction of her bedroom, she understood that what she was feeling at the moment was something different: trepidation. She was going to go on a date with Patrick Jane, and she was dying waiting for the moment he'd knocked at her door…

As soon as he arrived at her home, Jane started doing something he hadn't had the luxury to do all day long: he thought; the finger was there, an inch from the doorbell, ready to press the button, but found himself unable to; sweat started to appear on his forehead, as he finally understood the enormity of it: he was going out with Lisbon, as in Teresa Lisbon; the problem wasn't that she was his boss, it didn't really mattered that much, the problem was… Teresa was stunning, beautiful, breath-taking, caring, deep, funny, one of the few people who got along with him, always too busy taking care of others to think about herself, self-questioning, and… and those weren't even half of her qualities. And the fact that he could actually find so many qualities in a woman was, indeed, scary, since, last time he had done something like that, he ended married…

But, he thought smiling as he decided to be brave, this was Lisbon, and all the qualities he was listing were, indeed, qualities he loved in her, qualities that made him love her. Yes, he was in love; admitting it wasn't such an issue, not any longer, at least; there was, after all, a reason behind his flirting with her, and his feelings for her was the main reason he liked so much bickering with the petite brunette. At the beginning, he couldn't even allow himself to admit this kind of emotional… defeat… also because he saw it as a betrayal of his wife and daughter; later, he understood that his wife and daughter loved him enough to want him happy even without them, and the main concern had become Red John: what if the crazy maniac decided to target her because of his feelings? In the rare moments he allowed him the luxury of sleep, he had dreamt of his wife and daughter many times, and, later, images of a shadow figure with a knife threatening Lisbon had took residence in his subconscious. But, he had decided, he couldn't go on like this any longer: he wasn't going to allow Red John to make him a miserable and unhappy man, he wasn't going to allow him to control his life, and he wasn't going to allow his agenda of vendetta to drive Lisbon, HIS LISBON, away from him. He trusted her, and he trusted the team: he knew that they were going to bring the monster to justice, sooner or later: there was no reason to try to kill him himself; this way, he'd just drive his precious Lisbon away, and he couldn't allow himself to, he didn't want to. She was more precious than his vendetta. Besides, he still remembered how it felt to be a loved husband and a caring father, and the delicious and a bit devilish creature who had took residence in Lisbon's office during the day had just made the memory more stronger. He remembered the feeling, and he wanted to feel that way again… and he wanted to feel it with Teresa Lisbon.

"I think that, at this point, you should ring the doorbell - His finger was still not touching said item, when she opened the door, smiling and happy, enlightening with her presence the room – sorry, it's just that I saw you, keeping walking on the patio, and…"

"Wow…" he looked at her like he had looked at her only once, at that charity event when she had wore an evening dress that made her stunning, but, differently from that time, he did it in front of her, and not from the distance; Teresa giggled again like a schoolgirl, biting her crimson lips for the emotion, taken back by how Jane looked; she had never seen him speechless, never so hit by something, and, mostly, never by her.

"Thanks for the dress, Patrick, it's really beautiful. You didn't need to spend money for me." She said smiling, even if she was flattered and quite glad he had, indeed, spent money for her, noticing that the both of them had no problem at all shifting from the work-related "Lisbon" and "Jane" to the more casual "Patrick" and "Teresa".

"It's not the dress to be beautiful, Teresa – he said hand-kissing her without breaking eye-contact, making her melt – you are the one who makes it beautiful. You could make look beautiful even an old truck suit. After all, like Juliet said, what's in a name? That which we call a rose, would smell as sweet if it had any other name".

"Thanks- She finally managed to say between giggles, as she took the key, closing the door at her back; she was already going in direction of the car, his car for once, when he stopped her, taking her for a wrist, forcing Lisbon to turn towards him, a gentle shade of pink on her cheeks, an unsure smile on her lips, green eyes lost into blue ones – Patrick?"

"Let me admire you for just another second, because I want to imprint this vision in my mind for the rest of my life." He said sincerely, smiling of a real smile, something rare, as he got closer to her, and leaned over the woman so that they were at eye-level; she was, indeed, a vision, a vision for sore eyes (and, one time, she had indeed been a vision for sore eyes, when she took care of him while he was blind, when he saw her, first thing first, as he regained his precious gift) or, at least, so she was for him, and he found himself wondering if the other men thought the same of her, or if it was a birth of his mind, triggered by his feelings. She was wearing the red dress that fitted her perfectly, with a pair of black medium heels sandals (that showed light pink polished nails) with a matching handbag; she had applied the right amount of make-up, just had a pair of small earrings and her cross, and she smelled the smell he loved so much, a mix of citrus, roses and Lisbon…

As soon as he pulled away, smiling again at her, she immediately missed the contact, the heat irradiated by his chest, the security she felt in that short, intimate moment.

"So, where are we going?" Finally, Teresa recomposed herself, and managed to ask him the question that had been in her mind for the whole day.

"That, my dear – he said as he started to act as the usual Patrick Jane again, his everlasting smirk back on – is a surprise…"

For once, he respected the speed limits, not wanting to drive her mad, just wanting to enjoy her presence at his side the longest possible, the enduring silence, not a bit embarrassing, the not so occasionally glances they kept sending each other, the soft touches, the feel he had when she put an hand on his thigh, like to assure him she was still there, and the feel she had when he did the same…

"Seriously, Patrick, where are we going? We have already left Sacramento…"

"Teresa, Teresa, Teresa, I though you've already learned that, when it comes to me, patience is a virtue you have to master in every possible way…" Accepting his answer and falling in silence again, Lisbon laughed as he said so, joined soon by him: they both knew that he was only "faking" the role of the Patrick Jane he had been for many, the Patrick she had never believe to, the man she had seen through…

"Here we are" as he parked the car near a city park, she realized they were in a city at 30-something minutes from Sacramento, called Woodland; when he hold the door open for her, she left the car, wondering what he had planned, and why he was suddenly looking for something in the trunk of his light blue car.

"Patrick, what are we doing here? I thought you said…"

He didn't allowed her to end the sentence, just took her for her hand, and walked hand in hand in direction of a mass of emerald glass between old trees; with her surprise, she realized that what he had took from the car was a basket, and that everything was already set in motion for the perfect romantic picnic: a soft, warm blanket was waiting for them on the grass, surrounded by candles, and a portable stereo was waiting just for Jane to press the "start" button…. "I told you to be nice, which let me tell you, you always are. I'm sure that I never mentioned something about a restaurant… because I never thought about it in the first place. We both deserve something special for our first date and this is the most special thing I could think of."

"But how… when… I mean…" she looked stunned, speechless, but the light in her eyes told him that she was happy, and he immediately understood that it was the first time a man did something like that for her; he mentally thought about all the morons she had dated in the past, wondering how they could have been so idiot that they weren't even able to make her happy…

"A guy I know, who owns me a couple, happens to live here…" He helped her to sit on the soft blanket, like it was something indispensable, she couldn't do on her own, too precious to do such a simple action on her own; neither of them was wearing the mask they put on the day they met, like, even back then, they could already say that it was in their destinies to be in each other's arms, and they were too scared to face it. Taking his time, he sat at her side, and, without removing his eyes from her figure, he slowly removed few selected items from the basket… sea scallops Carpaccio with Peas, sweet potatoes with Crusted Salmon, and

A transparent Tupperware with, inside…

"They are Strawberries with cream, chocolate and shortbread from the Kitchen!" she said astonished, tempted to go directly to the last course.

"I've been told that you were wishing to visit The Kitchen, but never had time to, so I thought, if Mohamed can't go to the mountain, the mountain will be brought to Mohamed… -he smiled genuinely, happy that he had the right idea and that she was appreciating his efforts so much, and paused a little, before to offer her a glass of the red wine he took from the box – Here; I hope you'll like it, because I've never tried this before, but I've been told that the Tuscany 3 from 2007 is an excellent red, it should taste like a mix of Sangiovese, Merlot and Cabernet…"

"Aren't you supposed to have white with fish?" she asked, although smiling while enjoying the particular taste of the beverage.

"Seriously, Teresa, tell me one time I stuck to the rules."

"Point taken- she paused, and, even if she still smiled, lips and eyes, he knew that her tone, and what she was going to say, was serious, and was, somehow, troubling her – you know, there was any need to show off…" he didn't need to read minds to know what she thought: she wanted to stay with her feet on the ground, knowing that it was too good to be real or to last; her life had been so hard, that she was still a child when she had learned that seeing your dreams coming true is a rare event.

"Showing off, dear Teresa is what I do day after day, at work, when I want to impress you. - he was serious, no trace of the Patrick Jane she had seen for so long, and suffered for and with; he offered her his fork, making her taste the salmon, and then went on – as I told you, this is for the both of us. I want to build a good memory. I want you to feel as special as you are. And I want to never forget the first woman who made me realize that I could still love." A hint of sadness descended on the both of them, but for different reasons, and Jane felt the need to clarify his actions to make her realize that he wasn't ling, that she had been, indeed, the first woman who had drove him to such conclusions.

"They were friends, Teresa; I may have gone to dinner with them, but I never had a date. It's you, Teresa. It has always been you…"

"It's just that… it's crazy – she turned to look away, overcome by the feelings she realized he had for her, scared by them and by the consequences – we shouldn't… and we can't… besides, you're so perfect, and it will only make things harder when…." She covered her face with her hands, and cried, crying all the tears she didn't want to show him, but she really couldn't avoid it… it was too much.

"Teresa, do you love me? He said, his hands on her own, forcing her to look at him in the eyes.

"It's pointless, admitting it out loud will only make things harder when…"

"Just say yes or not, Teresa – he gently silenced her with his words, a low voice that sounded broken and desperate – stop denying the truth, Teresa. You always tell Annie that she shouldn't lie… even if you are an adult, you shouldn't lie as well. Please Teresa, tell me the truth. Tell me how you feel..."

The tears were still in her eyes, when, smiling, she opened them, and put her right on Jane's cheek, finding his right one with her left, interlacing their fingers. "I love you, Patrick"

"Then, it's enough – without stopping to look at her in the eyes, in what was one of the most intimate moments of her life, he moved her right to his lips, and kissed, one by one, her fingers, before to go on – knowing that you love me back is enough to stop me from wanting Red John dead. I'd never intentionally hurt you, Teresa, you have to know that, and I know that killing him would tear you apart. Besides- he said feeding her with a strawberry with chocolate, his voice still low, but no longer desperate – my happiness will be the best revenge…"

Lisbon closed her eyes a little in anticipation, when she realized that he was leaning towards her; she bit her lips, making him shiver in emotion, as his hands found their way on her naked shoulders, her soft, pale skin, in her dark hair, tracing lines on her skin, on her whole body, like it was a map; Lisbon's finger, instead, were planted, steady, in his blonde hair, in the soft curls she had dreamt of touching for so long…

Hesitantly and tentatively, he kissed her once, like during the day at the office, a mere peck, but, as soon s they parted, she looked in his eyes for a mere second, and come back to him, wanting more, needing more…

When they smiled in the kiss, laughing, finally happy, they fingers got together once again, and in that moment, she realized that, even without words, she'd know that he was telling her the truth… His wedding band was gone.


A quick, quick note: I didn't invented Lisbon's dress, and, if you happen to wnat to check it out, you can find it at

http:// thegloss. com/ files/2008 /11/ windowslivewriter5under50 holidaycocktaildresses- 10758scarlett- nite- surplice-red-cocktail-dress-2. jpg

obvisouly, with no spaces!