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Disclaimer – Still not mine.

Teresa entered her townhouse and kicked off her shoes and stripped off her socks. Everything dropped in a pile by the door, the smell of something wonderful calling her to the kitchen. She wandered in to a sight she never thought she would see. Patrick Jane in worn out chinos and a t shirt. He really could look good in anything.

He turned to grin at her wiping his hands on a tea towel before pulling her in for a slow wet kiss.

"I have wanted to do that all day."

"I have wanted you to do that all day," Teresa replied huskily.

Patrick just grinned and kissed her forehead and handed her a glass of red and turned back to making lasagna.

"So," Patrick started casually, "How was your day?"

Teresa just grinned and rolled her eyes.

"Well, after the little show this morning, Rigsby and Van Pelt kept coming into the office for no particular reason. Asking the most inane questions but I think they just wanted to know the how, what, and why of us but couldn't bring themselves to ask. It was actually kind of cute. I also got pulled up by Tracy in narc asking in a not so subtle way, how the born again virgin was and if you had forgotten anything. I think she drew the short straw out of the rest of the floor."

Patrick just grinned at her mischievously. "I suppose you told her that born again didn't mean that I had forgotten the mechanics?"

"I don't know. You haven't shown me any of your mechanics for about 24 hours. I might need a refresher course," Lisbon teasingly stated, running her tongue around the rim of her wine glass suggestively.

"You shower, I'll finish getting the lasagna ready and meet you in the bedroom in 15 minutes. I may even show you some new mechanical moves that I just remembered," Jane whispered huskily into her ear, shivers running down her body. She sashayed away from him with a little more sway than necessary, unbuttoning and casually discarding her shirt as she went. Patrick grinned and decided he would make her pay for that little move.

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Panting and grinning, Teresa snuggled into Patrick's side. She was definitely ruined for other men. His skill at reading people could be put to good use in other situations and the outcome was far better than his usual punch in the nose. She had never felt so connected or sated.

Patrick just pulled her closer. She was so small but so strong. He loved these moments where he could feel like he was the one protecting her. His connection to Lisbon was born of pain and age and it felt all the sweeter for the peace it brought him.

"Well that was new," she breathily stated, still attempting to get her breath back.

"Not bad for a virgin, eh?"

"Not bad at all. But I need sustenance. Come on old man, let's get some dinner."

"Old Man? My dear, I'm affronted by your accusation."

"Be affronted later, feed me now or lose me forever," Lisbon teased as she stood and slipped into his discarded button down.

"I could get used to that look," Patrick grinned wickedly.

Lisbon rolled her eyes and tossed his pants at him as she hurried to the kitchen. The smell of lasagna was calling her.

Sitting at the small table, Patrick watched her eat, grinning to himself as she ate like she did everything else. Wholeheartedly. A little bit of sauce on her chin that she swiped away with her finger and licked off. A gulp of wine, not a sip, hums of appreciation after each mouthful. He found the incongruity of something that looked so small and delicate, to be so voracious quite attractive. His Lisbon.

"Bertram called today. He wants to see us at 9 tomorrow. So did you do anything I should know about Patrick?"

"Meh, no more than usual and no less. We haven't even had a good case lately. Maybe he wants to know what I did to woo you. Gale is probably just jealous," his eyes sparkling at his statement.

"Well as long as I'm not about ready to get into trouble for something you did. I think we can handle it."

"Can you handle another round with the "Old Man"?"

"Do again what you did earlier and I might even change my mind about the "Old" part at the very least," Lisbon teased.

Teresa grinned and ran for the bedroom, Patrick hot on her heels. He grabbed for her and pulled her back against his chest and she let out a squeak of surprise that turned quickly into a purr when his lips met her neck and his teeth gently pulled on the delicate skin. It would leave a mark but she was damned if she cared. She cared even less when his hands found their way under the shirt. From then on she lost the ability to think and went on pure sensation.

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Teresa was woken to a painful tightening around her waist. Patrick had ahold of her and was drenched in sweat, pained moans leaving his mouth on gasps of air. She tried to pull away but he held that much tighter.

"Patrick."

Still no response.

"Patrick! You are hurting me!" Lisbon loudly stated, and that finally seemed to rouse him from his slumber. When she moved, she winced from being held so tight. Patrick's eyes widened in self disgust

"Oh God I'm so sorry Teresa," Patrick whispered out, the shock and fear on his face. He bolted for the bathroom and she could hear him being violently ill. She went to the bathroom, gimacing a bit as the blood rushed to her middle after the viselike grip it was held in.

There she found him with his back to the door and hugging the toilet bowl. She grabbed a washcloth and dampened it with cold water and gently placed it on his forehead. She didn't miss him slightly flinching away from her.

"You OK?"

"Yeah just give me a minute," he quietly stated without looking at her.

Patrick just kneeled there on the cold tiles and holding the cold toilet. Her warmth towards him as she stroked his back and wiped his forehead, made the guilt even stronger. He had hurt her. Had hurt her and she was the one comforting him. He didn't deserve her concern.

"I should go Teresa."

"Go where?"

"Back the hotel. Let you get some rest."

"Don't do this."

"Don't do what? Hurt you? I already did."

"Don't pull away. Don't hide from me. Shutting me out would be the worst thing you could do," Teresa pleaded.

Patrick turned and rested his back against the wall and looked at her. Beautiful, sweet Teresa. Her green eyes were looking at him, huge with concern.

"What do you want to hear? How some nights the nightmares become terrors I can't get out of? That I see him destroy you before me, you beg me to save you and I can't? That I know I will hurt you, either by association or by my own selfishness? I've been so selfish, too. I should have let us be just friends but I wanted so much more. Now that I have it, the reality is that he knows too. You are marked and it scares the shit out of me."

"Listen to me Patrick Jane, I know you think that us getting together has made me a mark. But I knew what I was signing on for. I know that I was marked well before we became something more. Do you think Red John so foolish that he wouldn't have noticed the closeness between us? We are so much stronger together. We can be happy and I won't ruin it because of a "what if?" scenario. He can only hurt us if we don't find him first. I have no intention of letting that happen."

"I can't lose you."

"You won't."

Patrick sat there just staring. She was his fierce Teresa. His avenger, his army. The determination and strength that he admired was directed at what they had and if she was willng to go the distance, then so should he. This is why he loved her but he couldn't say it yet. Not yet.

Teresa saw him concede to her. His eyes became soft and open and he let her just see inside as he sat there gazing at her. She could read what he felt but it wasn't the moment to push a point. One battle at a time.

"Come on, let's go back to our bed," she softly whispered and offered her hand to help him to his feet.

Once in the bedroom, Teresa laid on his chest as if to protect him from the demons that had slipped in to their bubble. He is what she wanted and she'd be damned if she was going to let a boogeyman take this from her. Patrick slipped his arms gingerly around her, not wanting to hurt her anymore but wanting to anchor her to him.

They laid there, just holding each other. No words spoken. Just soft touches of love, the words still caught in their throats.