Heya everyone. Sorry this update has been a little delayed, but we were back at school this week. It means i have less time to write, but i intend to aim for a chapter, or two a week. Please bare with me if i don't manage to.
On with the story..

Of Many Things
Chapter Nine

'Okay my lamb, after than little piece of gold dust, i fear it may be your turn to ask.'
'Truth, or dare?' she smiled.
'Truth.'
Lisbon was stuck somewhere between asking him something that she had always wanted to know, or going for sheer embarrassment. She supposed that he did owe her a blush inducing story after the one she had just told, 'Your first time?' Lisbon knew it was a little personal, but that never seemed to stop Jane. Besides, everyone knew that these stories were the most embarrassing, didn't they? So with a slight smirk on her face, and a raise of the eyebrow, she waited for Jane to being.
Much like Lisbon had been moments before, Patrick Jane was transported to a place that seemed so many moons ago. He had never told anyone this story before, he had never needed to. It wasn't something that he wanted to share with anyone he could; much like most young men did. It was saved for people who he truly trusted, people like Teresa Lisbon.
It had been the most magical day of his entire life, and the night promised to be every bit as so. Angela Ruskin was looking up at him with lust filled eyes, standing mere inches away from him, hot breath tickling against his neck. And as he reached back to undo the first clasp of the beautiful ivory wedding gown that the she wore, his whole life seemed to fall into place. He had always believe that sex was far more than just a physical act between two people. It was something that should be shared between two people who were undoubtedly in love with each other. It was all the emotions that they felt, and all wonders that the future held. It wasn't by accident that his first time was to be his wedding night. Patrick, although not a religious man, believed that waiting until you were married was a tradition that should be upheld. When he met Angela he had felt an instinctive pull towards her. Not only because of the the beautiful blond hair that cascaded down her back, the way her smile could brighten up even the darkest of days, nor the mischievous sparkle to her hazel eyes. It was the way in which she spoke every word with such conviction. Like she was certain of everything she thought, and felt. They spent their first day together discussing all that they could. From their favourite ice cream, to the morals in which they lived by. It had been, by many standards, a whirl wind romance. But to them it felt like they had know each other for a thousand years. Within six months they had planned a big white wedding, not caring that their families felt it was too fast. It was what they wanted. The day had been all that they had wanted, and now they would celebrate in their own personal way. As the bare skin of Angela's breasts, met that of Patrick's chest, everything else melted away. They had each other, and they would do until their dying day.
A strangled laugh escaped Jane's lips as he relayed the last sentiment to Lisbon; his beautiful wife's dying day was an all too harsh reality.
Tears began to form in Lisbon's eyes. Astounded by his naked honesty, and the romance of his story. She had been looking for embarrassment, but had found so much more. 'Thank you, Patrick.'
'For what?' He was confused by her question, but warmed by the expression on her pale face.
'For trusting me like that. I can't even begin to imagine how difficult it must be to talk of.' Lisbon was feeling guilty for making him share so much of himself.
'I have always trusted you Teresa.'
Lisbon suddenly realised something that she had missed before; she trusted Patrick Jane with all of her heart. Of Course, professionally, he couldn't be trusted to stay out of trouble for more than five seconds. Personally though, he was perhaps the only man she had ever truly believed in enough to trust entirely. Lisbon, for a reason unknown to herself, would forever lay her life in his hands, and trust that he would not break it. He was a wonderful man. A wonderful man who lived a life of pain, and grief, and heartbreak. Yet, here he was, doing all that he could to make her final hours as painless as they could be. To leave her with the best memories that he could.

Lisbon was broken from her reverie by the gentle pressure of Patrick Jane sitting on her hospital bed. She used some of her ever decreasing strength the shift herself to the side of the mattress, making room for him to fit beside her. At first she was afraid of the warmth that he brought, shying away from his strong frame, but then she cam to realise that it was what she had hoped for since he had first sat down beside her, in that cold, sterile chair. Human contact. She allowed his arm to snake around her shoulders, and found her head resting on his warm chest. He absent mindedly drew small circles across her spine. She breathed in deep. The scent that was undeniably Jane sinking into her senses, and radiating throughout her entire body. This, she thought, was what home felt like. She just wished that she had realised it sooner. Realised before it was too late. Realised before her very own dying day.

Thankyou again for reading, and to everyone who has reviewd. I do try to reply to them, but my computer isn't always a fan of doing so.
Katie.