Thanks very much for the welcoming reviews, lovely and very much appreciated.

Disclaimer: These characters clearly don't belong to me, again Jill does but she is of secondary interest.

Falling Slowly.

This day feels like it is never going to end, and I am bored and irritable beyond all reason.

I have been lying here on this couch for what feels like hours and I am disinclined to move, but people are starting to go home for the evening and I want to see Lisbon before she heads out for the night too.

I haven't been able to talk to Lisbon today, and I honestly want to look at her and make sure she is okay. Lisbon hasn't been sleeping these past weeks, slightly ironic for me to worry about sleep deprivation I know, but I shoulder some blame for her lack of sleep. I want to look at her lovely face and tell by the tightness around her eyes if she managed to rest last night. I hope she did, I hope Lisbon rests when she is away from here.

Her couch is certainly comfortable, and I can tell she has been lying here recently because her wonderful scent remains on the cushions; but I want to see her and maybe try and tease a smile from her. I have missed her today; I miss her a lot of the time recently. I know it's my fault, I know so much of everything is my fault, and yet I can't seem to translate this acknowledgement of my failings into actions to resolve them.

So I lie on her couch, and I wait to make her smile. I know that's not nearly enough, but I think sometimes I owe her at least that much. Which is, of course, meaningless self –deception because the least I owe her is to tell her how valued she is; how wonderful at her job she is, how I am thankful every day that she is on my side, that her smile lights up any room, that she is wonderful and utterly, utterly adored. That would be the absolute least I should be telling her, instead I lie on her couch and try and trick myself into believing that a few words between us at the end of the day will communicate all that I refuse to say.

I know my words are not, I accept the few sentences we share before she leaves for the evening are not enough to communicate what I need to. I know my actions have consequences, but I am struggling to choose which actions to follow. I'm struggling with a lot of things, which is perhaps the most laughable understatement and Teresa would roll her eyes at me in amusement if she could hear me talking like this.

Teresa.

I'm struggling with Teresa. I should at least admit that to myself. I wait here on her couch to spend at least some of my day with her, and selfishly it's only a partial truth that I do this because I want to check on her sleep patterns. I want to spend at least some of my day with her because I simply need to spend at least some of my day with her.

Most of the day, actually.

All of the hours of the day, truthfully.

Anyway, I am waiting here for Teresa and I think I might be the tiniest bit angry with her today. I believe she might have been on a date last night, and I need to find out if that is true. She left early yesterday; well she was gone by 6.30pm which is early by Lisbon's standards. And for the brief moment I saw her today she looked lighter somehow. She looked tired, but she didn't look quite as burdened as I would expect her to be. As burdened as I have made her. Again, I would get my ass kicked for a comment like that if Lisbon could hear me, laughing at my imagined over significance in her life. But real or imagined her significance in my life is what brings me to this office, this couch, and tonight I won't sleep or rest not because I am thinking of catching a predatory, evil man who destroys lives but because I am thinking of Teresa.

Increasingly I can't feel guilty about that.

Instead of guilt I have what feels suspiciously like anger and jealousy festering inside tonight. That Teresa finds some measure of comfort outside of the office with an active dating life should be nothing but a good thing; she deserves only happiness and peace. Both of those states I could certainly never offer her, I know that, I know that to be true and yet… I am angry with her.

So I lie here on her couch for the chance to look at her for a few moments, maybe make her laugh, maybe annoy her. But I want a chance to remind her that I am here, and whether or not she dates and whether she sleeps are significant events for me.

I should retreat to upstairs but while there is the chance that I will get to spend even a few moments with Teresa tonight then I want to stay here as long possible. Maybe I should simply close my eyes and try to rest surrounded by the scent of Teresa Lisbon, it wouldn't be the first time I've sought solace and comfort while sleeping in her office.

I last slept in here several weeks ago, the nights after we fought over Lorelai. I can hardly think of her without the shame and revulsion overwhelming me. I know Teresa believes I am implacable and overly cruel sometimes, and in this instance I know I was unnecessarily so.

I hurt Teresa because of my actions with Lorelai. Actions, I'm even kidding myself with my choice of words. I hurt Teresa because I slept with a dangerous woman and made us all vulnerable because of my unyielding focus on an end point to my quest for vengeance. I wish Teresa would realise I need an end to this quest one day, and that I might want to be around to live beyond that end. Though I know it hurts her more that the vengeance is sometimes all I can see, taste, and live for.

Not always though, vengeance is not always the only thing I see.

Regardless, I hurt Teresa; I wounded her as I so often have. I saw Teresa's heart on display in her expressive eyes when we argued that day; I witnessed her tears and her sorrow and a glimpse of emotions I rarely dare to hope she would return. But as usual I ignored the honest vulnerability of my lovely friend and I concentrated on the path towards finding Red John. I want tell her how I hope the path to Red John doesn't led me inexorably away from her. I want her to know and accept as fact how that would destroy what little is left of myself.

But I do none of these things; instead I lie alone in the dark and think about her beautifully expressive eyes. I think about her on dates with other men, laughably using the term other to mock my own place in her life. I think about her absence from my life today. She has been busy with Van Pelt all day, justifying her agents time away from our team I think. I have been working cold cases, hiding on my couch and thinking about how Teresa chose to spend her evening last night. I thought about her eating dinner with a man, and him trying to make her laugh. I can't express how unpleasant it is that she is out in the world laughing with someone other than me. And that sentence precisely expresses the level of my selfishness when it comes to Teresa Lisbon and her place in my life. I often think it would be easier if I simply told her how much I've come to love her. Well I tried once and made a terrible mess of it; I lost my nerve and I've regretted it every single day since.

With Angela and Charlotte I could never stop telling them how much they were loved and when I lost them I didn't imagine I would have the need for those words again; I thought all the love I would ever have had been removed from me. Now I realise there is more love, but I can't find the way back to the words to express the absolute clarity of my feelings. I'm trying, but as usual I am letting those closest to me down.

I hear noise outside in the bullpen, but it doesn't sound like the footsteps of the wonderfully petite Teresa Lisbon so I can safely close my eyes and wait in anticipation of her arrival. I curl myself further against the fabric of the couch, realising again that it's too devastating to even contemplate that she would be out dating two nights in a row.

"Teresa, I know I'm early but we finished on time surprisingly, and I thought I would try and force you to leave with me."

A confident voice I don't recognise forces me to open my eyes to see who is looking for Lisbon.

"Oh, I'm sorry to disturb you I was looking for Teresa Lisbon; I thought this was still her office."

I am caught slightly off guard by the sight of the tall, elegant blonde woman who seems to know Teresa and who seems to be laughing at me now.

"Were you just sniffing those cushions?"

No, certainly not. Okay, a little perhaps; the fabric holds the scent of Teresa Lisbon and it's overwhelming sometimes – and who could resist sleeping with the scent of Teresa on their clothes and skin? I should probably answer this woman as she is almost definitely laughing now.

"I think you are mistaken… I'm sorry I don't believe we've met."

I rise from my position on the couch and move towards the unexpected visitor.

"You were, you were sniffing those cushions and I caught you. That's excellent, is this a cushion fetish or a couch fetish I wonder?"

I can't quite place the accent, certainly the Boston area but what I do recognise is the laughter and teasing in her tone; and her avoidance of an introduction.

"Well is it cushions or couch that does it for you? Or is it something else? I have a similar system at home sometimes. My husband has a particular chair he is fond of, it's leather and worn frankly but he loves it. When he's working nights and the kids are sleeping, and I can't sleep, well I like to curl up in his chair and, you know, smell the cushions… I'm Jill Barker by the way, and I still don't know who you are."

Who is this woman?

"I'm Patrick Jane, a colleague of Teresa Lisbon's; you were looking for her when you walked in here. This is still her office I was just waiting for her too."

"And you don't have a couch of your own to sleep on?"

"Actually I do, Jill."

"I understand, this one is nicer and smells like a pretty woman; all clear now."

Who is this woman? Seriously, I feel like I've been sleeping for a week and I've woken up in an alternate reality.

"Why were you looking for Lisbon, are you working with the CBI?"

"No Patrick, we're going to dinner; you know, that meal people like to enjoy after a long day at work. I live in Washington and Teresa and I are grabbing a quick dinner before I leave on a very, very late flight. We had pizza and beer last night and tonight are upping the stakes with steak and cheap wine!"

She had pizza and beer with Lisbon last night, which means there was no other man making Lisbon laugh. I am starting to become very fond of this woman.

"Goodness that's a smile, does it let you get anything you want Patrick?"

"I'm sorry I don't know what you mean."

Of course I'm smiling, I'm unspeakably happy that Lisbon has been on no dates this week. I know how that makes me sound, but I really don't care.

"You are smiling, Patrick, the way my son does when he sneaks food away from his sister or the way I did when the Bruins won the Stanley Cup… It's a nice smile and I'm wondering what I said to inspire it."

"No reason, can't a man simply be content and happy?"

"I know of you by reputation only, Patrick, and I have to tell you "content and happy" are not generally how you are spoken of. Forgive me if that's rude, but it's a fact. But I do believe that was an honest smile of happiness, so I can only guess as to the reasons why. And I would imagine my lovely friend Teresa Lisbon was the reason for your sudden burst of pleasure. Would I be correct in that assumption, Patrick?"

I am more than a little intimidated by this woman, and I don't think that's happened to me ever. I mean, I think I might have reason to be the tiniest bit afraid of her. I should offer her tea.

"No, I was thinking about tea, always am when I am at my happiest – would you care to join me in a cup?"

"No thank you Patrick. And I can't fault you for your misdirection, but I maintain that you were just unable to contain your glee that Teresa and I were together last night. You thought she was on a date, and the fact that she was with an old friend made you smile that golden smile of yours."

I'm not sure I can face arguing the point with her, it would be simpler to concede and try and get out of here before Lisbon comes back.

"I'm sorry can we start again Mr Jane? I've had a very stressful day and you are bearing the brunt of my teasing because of that. I'm not usually quite so rude to people I don't know that well. I maintain the truth of my previous words, but nonetheless I don't mean to embarrass you or make you uncomfortable. Truly. Truce Mr Jane?"

I like this woman, and not just because she is proof Lisbon was home last night and away from the admiring glances of men.

"Of course, any friend of Lisbon's… And please, call me Patrick."

I smile again, this time on purpose and this time to try and charm the woman standing in front of me. I think it can only be a good thing that Lisbon has this woman in her life, I'm glad she has friends who care for her. I do such a bad job of caring for her that it's comforting there are people in the world who are so much better at it than I am. I hate it too, hate that I am a man who cares only half the way in.

"Patrick, why are you in here and where is Teresa?"

"I am here waiting for Lisbon, she is somewhere in the building working but if she knows you are coming then I would imagine she will be here any moment now. You know how she hates to keep people waiting. I'm here because I was going to make sure Lisbon went home to eat and sleep tonight – but I can see you are taking care of that already. So I'll leave you to it."

"Don't run out on my account, honestly. It is a pleasure to meet you Patrick; I work for the FBI and know of your work by reputation. I admire what you do here with Teresa."

My skin prickles and I get the familiar feeling of unease when I am around law enforcement agents I don't know. I don't know how long Lisbon has known this woman, so I really don't know if she is a messenger from Red John or is who she claims to be. Is it possible I can reduce all the interactions in my life to somehow being associated with Red John; Lisbon would be so cross with me for having these thoughts. I wish she would hurry up and get here.

"You're wondering who I am, and if you can trust who I say I am. Look Patrick, Teresa has been my friend for twelve years; I've known and loved her for a long time. I don't work for a serial killer, I am not enslaved to him and doing his bidding. I have a four year old daughter and a six year old son; I am enslaved by them. Kids, husband, friends, and job – I don't have time for anything else. Again I don't want to disrespect you, but I have no agenda today other than dinner with my friend. I know of your history, and I'm so sorry for your loss – but please believe me when I tell you my reasons for being here have nothing to do with the FBI, or Red John, or anything other than spending time with my lovely friend."

I really do like this woman very much.

"Of course Jill, sometimes I forget my manners."

"I hear that, sometimes I lose mine for days. So, Teresa Lisbon is your colleague and you are hanging around here to make sure she eats and sleeps. That's the story we're going with today is it?"

I can feel my cheeks brighten with embarrassment; I'm not used to such forthright behaviour in this office.

"I think it's a story I can live with, Jill. You don't approve that I check up on Lisbon?"

I'm sitting on the sofa now, Jill standing in front of me; appraising me with eyes filled with sympathy and more than a little amusement.

"Of course I approve, I was just calling it how I see it. I do that a lot, really pisses of my husband."

"He's a lucky man, and I'm sure he knows it."

"Most of the time he does, sometimes I'm a nightmare to live with and sometimes so is he. That's a partnership though isn't it? So without you trying to charm me, Patrick, I'll ask again about your waiting here for Teresa at the end of a work day."

I wasn't prepared to have this conversation, ever, frankly. I really do want a cup of tea now. I don't know how I am going to escape this friendly and yet lethal interrogation

"Jill, there you are, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. I'm ready to leave when you are."

And just like that, as she has done so many times in the past, Teresa Lisbon strolls into a room and saves me.

"No problem Teresa, you look wonderful darling. You do know your dinner date is just with me, don't you?"

Where I sit I am obscured from Lisbon's line of sight by Jill, as she is from mine but these words make me stand up and move to look at Lisbon.
"Jane, what are you doing here?"

I hardly know what to say; I think Lisbon just spoke to me but the words were fragments of noise in my ears. She is wearing a dress, a dress she should frankly wear every day. It's blue and wrap around and highlights her legs, her waist, her hips, her everything… Is that even possible? She looks truly beautiful, so young and lovely and I think I must have been staring at her now for several moments too long. I'm almost certain Lisbon will ignore it, and that my new friend Jill will call me on it in every possible way.

"Hey Lisbon, I was just leaving; I was entertaining your friend while you were unavailable. I'll leave you to your plans."

"Seriously Teresa, you look beautiful, doesn't she Partick? I didn't know we were dressing up, you have a date after our date, don't you?"

I hope the answer to that is of course not. Was I supposed to speak there, am sure Jill was attempting to get me involved in conversation just now.

"You do look lovely, Lisbon; absolutely lovely."

The small smile of pleasure Lisbon tries and fails to hide at my words has made my interrogation fade into nothingness. Her unaffected smile of pure pleasure has just become the highlight of my week.

"Of course I don't have a date later. I wanted to dress up because I never do, and I've just gotten changed in a bathroom in this building. It was not pleasant. I'm wearing a nice dress, so bite me. Okay, so we should probably get going Jill if you want to make your flight."

"We should probably do that Teresa, yes."

The teasing tone from earlier has returned to Jill's voice, it might be quite something to watch these two inimitable women interact.

"Patrick, would you like to join us?"

What, what's happening now? I keep tuning out; I'm blaming Lisbon's legs and the perfect curve of her calves.

"That would be lovely, but I don't want to intrude. Both of you go and have a great dinner; it was a pleasure to meet you Jill."

"Come now, Patrick, are you sure we can't persuade you. I think the plan for tonight was to talk about shoes; do you know anything about shoes?"

Jill looks at my battered shoes and seems to crumple with laughter, Lisbon is trying desperately to get out of the room I can feel the tension radiating from her. I'm not quite sure why she would be so unnerved right now.

"Well, clearly Patrick, shoes are not your area of expertise. No problem, you can be our barrier against idiots; whenever I go out with Teresa and she looks like she does now we are approached by every guy in the building who thinks he has a shot. If you come with us maybe we can just have a meal and talk. I can share Teresa stories; you can share Teresa stories…"

Every guy in the building approaches Teresa. I am not comfortable with that scenario.

"Jill stop being a pain, we don't need barriers against idiots – if Jane comes we would just be bringing our own idiot. And I certainly don't need to sit through an evening of listening to you two making up stories about me. Can we go, I'll see you tomorrow Jane."

She really is quite wonderfully beautiful when she is annoyed; it's one of my favourite looks on her.

"Jill, I would love to come, I'm starving and making up stories about Lisbon is one of my favourite things to do. Also I can drive and that way you both can have wine with dinner, and I'll even drive you to the airport afterwards. And I would be delighted to share stories about Teresa with you."

Lisbon is going to kill me; I know that with absolute certainty.

"Excellent that's settled then."

"And I have no say in this, I have to spend an evening being made fun of by the two of you and I get no say in it?"

"Teresa, darling, I could happily spend an evening sharing stories of how wonderful you are – and am sure Patrick could so the same. We are going to have some good food and some conversation – none of it involving law enforcement – and we are going to enjoy ourselves."

I really, really like this woman. Teresa and Jill are having a silent conversation using only little smiles, and eye contact. It's quite lovely to watch Lisbon interact with a real friend. She seems happy, and it will be wonderful to spend an evening with her like this; as long as she doesn't kill me in the morning for daring to intrude.

They seem to have resolved the little private struggle and are moving towards the door, leaving me a little behind as I have been caught up in my own thoughts again. I follow Lisbon across the bullpen, listening to Jill and her talk about their respective days. I move with them to the elevator, my hand on the small of Lisbon's back as we enter. That small touch of my hand to the base of her spine has been a lifeline to me so many times in my life. The lift door closes and for a few seconds the three of us stand together in peaceful silence.

"Patrick, so is there anything you were hoping to find out about Teresa tonight?"

I stare straight ahead, watching the numbers change as the lift descends from floor to floor. I want to know if Lisbon could ever be happy to share her life with a broken, worthless excuse for a man. I want to know if she would ever want to hear me tell her how much I love her. I want to know if she is sleeping, but I mentioned that part before. I want to know exactly how lovely her eyes look when they are viewed over candle light. I want to know the answer to all of these things.

"Well, Jill, I've always wanted to know what instrument she played in band. It's her most guarded secret."

I hear Lisbon sigh, and Jill giggle, as the lift doors open and we head out into the night.

I'm going out to dinner with Teresa Lisbon and she is wearing a sinfully flattering dress; I can only hope she is as happy about this as I am.