AN: I should probably have left this one alone… But I was asked very nicely to write the party and this was the best I could come up with. This is possibly too saccharine and sweet for some, so if that's not your thing… And there's probably one more chapter to come after this.

Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, am simply borrowing them for the purposes of this story. Well Jill is mine, because she is made up entirely.

Falling Slowly Chapter Fifteen

There appears to be something wrong with my brain. I think it might be on the outside of my head, I'm almost certain that is not a good thing.

I know I should open my eyes to check on the whereabouts of my aforementioned brain, but I think that genuinely might kill me.

I think I might have had too much to drink last night. Either that or I really am suffering from some long dormant medical complaint that means my brain can leave my body and yet I continue to function in agony.

"Jane. Jane. You need to get up; we are running so late. I mean it this time, stop pretending you're sleeping."

I can truly say that I love that woman more than anything in my life; she is without question a blessing to me every day... But I have simply never noticed before how loud she can be for someone to small.

I feel the bed next to me move, and then happily feel the warmth of Lisbon's body sitting next to me on this place I seem to have been abandoned. I carefully open my eyes to attempt to deal with today.

"You need to get up Patrick, we need to be over at Stephen and Jill's in less than an hour so you need to hustle you lush."

"I don't feel good Teresa."

Which is the understatement of the week, frankly. I am feeling slightly better now that Teresa is next to me, the warmth of her hip as she rests it against me – and the touch of her fingers to my forearm almost makes me want to do as she says. I can't though, I'm too ill.

"You're hung over, old man. Now you need to get up or I'm going to abandon you here and go have fun without you."

Okay, that's not even funny.

"Can't you just get back into bed with me, that would a much happier way to spend the day don't you think?"

"I think you need to go have a shower before I even think about getting into bed with you ever again."

She softens her teasing by leaning forward and kissing my cheek, and I can't resist holding her too me a little longer than I think she planned to be there. I really look at Teresa for the first time since becoming conscious this morning; she looks utterly charming wrapped in a towel. I really am a stupid man for drinking too much last night. Spectacularly stupid. She has her hair pinned up in a way that shows off quite how delicate and lovely her neck is. I would normally tell her these things, but I think I really do need to shower before Teresa will be happy to accept my compliments.

Actually who am I kidding, I am uniquely unable to keep my thoughts to myself when it comes to admiring Teresa and her general loveliness. So I trace the line of her cheekbone with my thumb, her smiling eyes all the conversation we need for the moment.

Until I spoil it with more of my complaints, obviously.

"I don't like hotels."

"Jane, you've spent more time in hotels than anyone I know. I think you like them just fine; it's the after effects of too much drinking you don't like."

"No. I don't like hotels. This bed is weird, my back hurts and my head hurts. I think we've got a faulty bed."

In fairness I do realise how much of an idiot I sound, I desperately need to get up and shower and get into clothes and try and feel more like me. I'm almost certain that will take too much effort. Teresa sighs and moves to stand up and probably continue to get dressed. I really don't want her to go so I dig into reserves of strength I am not entirely sure I have and wrap my arms around her waist and pull her down onto the bed beside me.

Her little shriek of annoyed delight makes the effort so very worth it; but unfortunately her towel remains securely wrapped around her. I am a smart man, but in all my years of life I have never been able to work out quite how woman are able to do that with towels. It's witchcraft, frankly.

"Patrick, get off me. We have to get ready; you are not being helpful you know."

She has moved to sit with her back resting against the headboard, and I do what I always do when we share a bed and Teresa sits in that position; I lean over and rest my head in her lap. I could genuinely stay here like this all day.

"Patrick we are not staying in bed all day, our friends are expecting us."

I can't help the smile that so easily comes when Teresa talks of our friends.

"I know sweetheart, I will move in a couple of minutes and will escort you to our friends with pleasure and pride. But I need you to be as forgiving as you have ever been and let me recover like this for a few moments."

"You're such a drama queen."

I can't see her look of amused resignation, but I can tell from the sound of her words that Teresa has forgiven my petulant whines. And she turns this forgiveness into action when she rests the fingers of one hand on the back of my neck and the soothing touch of the other is drawing comforting patterns on my scalp. Despite my brain being somewhere on the hotel room floor this, this is absolute pleasure and contentment.

I could lie like this all day, I mentioned that before, but Teresa will shot me if I don't summon the effort to move my carcass from this bed soon.

I kiss her belly through the unfamiliar fabric of the hotel towel, hoping my tenderness will match hers and will in some way make up for my current inability to function.

"I don't like hotels Teresa."

"Okay."

Her thumb is on the back of my neck, and I curl further into her touch as I continue to act like a spoiled idiot.

"Can we stay here all day?"

I can feel rather than see her laughter, her slight body struggling to contain her amusement at my idiocy.

"You're going to have to make up your mind Patrick, you hate hotels but you want to stay here all day."

Clearly.

"Yes sweetheart. I want this to be our bed at home, and I want to stay in it until my brain becomes a manageable part of my body again."

"You really are a grumpy old man sometimes."

"I'm ill."

"You're a lush, now move you idiot."

Teresa, a woman I formerly believed would live and die for me, is cruel beyond all reason and pushes me off my comfortable position against her lovely body and leaps up from where she has been sitting. As if this wasn't painful enough she comes round to my side of the bed and takes my hand and drags me up too.

I rest my hands on her hips and kiss her cheek in apology for my uselessness.

"What was I drinking last night?"

"Champagne."

Oh, yes. I remember now. Stephen and I got through quite a bit of it as I remember, and I also have a hazy recollection of Teresa and Jill abandoning us to our drunkenness. I can only hope I wasn't too embarrassing.

"I think there was something in that champagne Teresa."

"Yes, you idiot, it's called alcohol."

"Do I need to apologise to anyone today?"

"No, you just got a little drunk; it was only the four of us Patrick and you and Stephen were as bad as each other."

"Why did I drink so much, I don't usually even like champagne? What was I thinking?"

"You were showing off."

"Well that doesn't sound like me at all Teresa."

She smiles at me, and I regret waking up late all over again – I could've been watching her smile all morning if I hadn't been so hung over today.

"No, it really doesn't sound like you does it? Stop feeling so guilty. You were celebrating our engagement. Did you have fun last night?"

I did. Jill is wonderful, and Stephen is a man worthy of her. He was interesting, funny and made us feel so very welcome in their home. I got to meet their delightfully shy children, Morgan and Jess, before Aunt Teresa put them to bed. And then Stephen and I got happily drunk as we competed over just who was the more charming and entertaining. I distinctly remember Teresa informing us both – and Jill passionately agreeing - the winner of that particular contest would always be some idiot on a programme about Grey Anatomy's, or something very like that. I think that's when we decided to drink more to bury our disappointment. I had a ridiculously good time.

"I did Teresa. Did you?"

"I had a wonderful night."

"I love you."

I find telling her this tends to absolve me of many, many wrongs.

"I would hope so, Patrick. Now go and get in the shower and make yourself look like you didn't drink two bottles of champagne by yourself a few hours ago."

Teresa touches her lips against mine in the most ridiculously brief of kisses before moving to go and start to get ready.

I head into the bathroom to try and make myself feel normal. I swig some mouth wash and look up into the mirror. I look horrible. I'm sure I was in my forties when I got up yesterday; why do I look like I'm my mid- sixties now. No wonder Teresa wasn't overly keen on kissing me just now. I really do want to be home in our apartment where I could get into our amazing shower and the perfect water pressure would force me into feeling almost human again. Now this is a good hotel – I wouldn't dream of taking Teresa anywhere that wasn't going to be a little bit of luxury for her – but it's a universal truth that showers in hotels are no good. Well, as Jane Austen would say; they suck. Doesn't matter though, I need to get ready for Teresa.

It's only when I'm away from it – which admittedly isn't often – that I truly appreciate how very much I've come to love the apartment Teresa and I share. I miss our bed, I miss our shower, and I miss having all my stuff where I want it to be. It's unfathomable to me now that I lived in places like this for so many years; actually I lived in places nowhere nearly as nice as this. Well, I suppose that's not nearly as unfathomable as my managing to live without Teresa for all of those years; I simply don't remember how to do that now.

I need to get myself together and manage to complete the simple tasks of shaving and taking a shower. We do, after all, have a party to go to today.

I step out of my pyjama pants and slide open the door to the shower, and I am reminded all over again of how very lucky I am. I have been talking about our apartment in glowing terms; and I maintain my position on that, it's a home and I very much appreciate the comfort of that. But I should acknowledge the infinite comfort and peace the woman who shares that home brings to me. My senses are slower than normal today, and I should have picked up on this when I first came into the bathroom, but opening the sliding door to the shower gave me a real sense of what I was yearning for.

Teresa.

It's always going to be Teresa. I want to go to our apartment, because she is there with me. I want to stay in this hotel room all day only if Teresa remains with me. Her scent, the achingly familiar smell of her toiletries and soaps fill this room. I inhale the loveliness of her shower gel, that particular blend of orange and cinnamon that will forever be Teresa. I think briefly about stepping into the shower and using it, in wrapping myself inside the pseudo comfort of her scent. Instead I quickly wrap a towel round my waist and head back out into our room.

She is sitting at the dressing table, applying the make- up that I constantly tell her she doesn't need.

She constantly in return tells me to shut up.

I usually do, doesn't mean I'm wrong though.

It looks like she has been busy while I have been gone as disappointingly Teresa is now dressed. Although as usual she looks far from disappointing. She is wearing a blue knee length dress, it is belted at the waist with little buttons down the front; she looks delicate and feminine. I will go to my grave denying these thoughts.

"Hey. You okay Patrick?"

Hung over, sentimental, and needy, sweetheart – but the first you know about and the other two I'm going to do my very best to keep to myself.

"I am. I just wanted to do this."

I move to stand behind her and put my hand on her shoulder and lean down to kiss the top of her head, looking up into the mirror to appreciate her smile. Her hand joins mine on her shoulder and she squeezes my fingers a little with affection.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"You look beautiful sweetheart I just wanted to tell you that."

"Okay."

She's smiling at me a little like I'm crazy again, which I acknowledge is a reasonable assumption right now. She still has her hair pinned up at the back of her neck, and I must say I have particular weakness for Teresa when she looks like this.

"Are you wearing your hair up today Teresa?"

"No, I'm not finished getting ready, which is what you need to be doing too. Now shoo"

I'm apparently very bad at communicating my mood or feelings today. I stroke the exposed pale skin of the back of her neck and Teresa finally meets my gaze in the mirror again.

"Do you want me to wear my hair up Patrick, I was going to leave it down and not straighten it – I thought you liked it that way."

"I do, very much. Do whatever you want, sweetheart. You look beautiful; I just wanted to tell you that."

Teresa smiles shyly and I think tries to accept the sincere truth of my words.

I lean down and kiss the back of her neck before turning again to go clean up.

Except I can't leave it there so I am quickly back in place behind her, with both arms on her shoulders my eyes locked with hers. I lean forward and bury my nose at the place neck meets shoulder and take a deep breath of her scent.

"You smell so good Teresa."

I whisper the words against her skin, and I can feel the tremor of pleasure they involuntarily cause.

"Just now when I went to shower I could smell your shower gel, that's what sent me out here to you. I wanted to tell you that wherever I am with you it will always be home, and that scent of cinnamon and orange is as comforting to me as anything I can think of. You make me very happy; I wanted to make sure you know that."

I reluctantly move so that I can watch Teresa's reflection in the mirror, hoping she indulges my sentimentality. She has a wonderful blush on her cheeks and a smile of absolute happiness on her face which is reflected in her green, green eyes.

"You make me happy too Patrick."

She turns her head slightly and kissed my hand where it rests on her right shoulder.

"Teresa. Can I ask for one thing before I leave you alone to get ready?"

She nods in response, smiling shyly at me.

"If I take you out to dinner next week to celebrate our engagement would you wear that dress, and wear your hair up?"

She smiles again, the blush of pleasure returning to her lovely face.

"Yes. No go, or we will never get out of here."

"Teresa…"

"Patrick…"

I am laughing now; being close to her like this has woken me from my state of feeling unwell.

"If I take you to dinner another night next week to celebrate our engagement will you wear that dress and wear your hair down again?"

She laughs out loud this time and it's the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Are you going to be like this all day?"

"Of course not Teresa, I'm going to be like this for the rest of your life."

I wink at her, and kiss the top of her head affectionately before retreating to the bathroom. I have to clean myself up enough to be worthy of Teresa today.

It takes me about twenty five minutes to shave and stand under the tepid water long enough to soothe my weary bones. By the time I've wandered back out to our room Teresa has laid my suit and shirt out on the bed, and there is a tray of tea from room service waiting for me.

She really is far more than I deserve.

I hurry into my clothes while Teresa fusses with the finishing touches to her hair and make-up and wraps the present we have bought for Jill. We've gotten her a Kindle which frankly I can't see the point of but Teresa was very excited about the purchase so I have one in my suitcase to surprise her with later.

"So are we finally ready to leave Patrick?"

"I've been waiting on you sweetheart, women take such a long time to get ready for anything…"

I am rewarded for my impudence with a smack to my arm.

"I hope you don't beat me like this when we're married."

"Hush. Now, you know there's going to be a lot of people here today and tonight Patrick."

"Of course, I can imagine Jill is a popular woman and that friends will be coming to wish her happy birthday."

Teresa is standing directly in front of me now, her hands on my chest which usually means she has something difficult to tell me.

"What I am trying to say is that there will be times tonight when I will be out of your line of sight."

Oh. I see

"I don't want you to be upset by that, and I want you to enjoy this party and to relax. But we won't be joined at the hip all night and I don't want you to be stressed when I'm not next to you."

She is stroking my chest now, offering comfort with her touch as well as her words.

"You're awfully full of yourself today Teresa."

And I have to make a bad joke like the insecure idiot I can sometimes be.

"I mean it, Patrick. This is a safe place we're in tonight; I don't want you to be uncomfortable when I am not with you."

"There are plenty of times when I'm not with you."

"But you worry."

"Of course I worry; it's not even been a year yet Teresa."

And I can't help it I pull her to me in a bone crushing hug as suddenly I am back in that place. I feel her heart beat against my chest and try and calm myself with the knowledge that we are here, safe, together.

"I'm not going anywhere Patrick and I didn't mean to upset you but it will be good for us to be with different people tonight, and good for you to lose me in the crowd for a little while. We might even have to talk to some people we don't like – but remember that means when we're back here later we can make fun of them together."

I refuse to answer Teresa, despite the sense of her words. I simply tighten my hold on her and try to drag my thoughts away from what was done to her ten months ago.

She pulls out of my arms slightly and holds my face between her hands. I am comforted both by the love in her eyes and the feel of her engagement ring against my cheek. I know it's better to have this little moment of weakness here and now where I am understood rather than in front of strangers later.

"You could never be lost in a crowd Teresa."

I take her hands in mine and kiss her knuckles; it's our routine and my very great pleasure. Then I turn over her hands and gently kiss the fading scars in her palms. Teresa is smiling sadly at me, but it the love in her eyes that will sustain me tonight when I am worry needlessly – or over anxiously – about her wellbeing.

But I am also aware that I will no hover dangerously close to that place, and those memories tonight.

So we leave the shelter of our hotel and get a cab back over to the Barkers home in a quiet area of Washington I am completely unfamiliar with. I can see why they would choose to live here, the houses are modest and the area apparently friendly from the sheer number of neighbours Morgan told me were coming over today.

If I thought I was going to be able to relax with tea for a while I was badly mistaken, no sooner am I in their home, Jill has me moving tables and setting out glasses and food and alcohol. I am glad to be useful, happy to be thinking of something other than the fragility of life and how in some ways I am always going to live up to my moniker of over protective ass when it comes to being by Teresa.

I know rationally she does not need my protection, but the instinct remains.

So while Teresa is put to work charming distant relatives, I go and entertain the kids. Stephen told Morgan that I could do magic so while the house full of cousins were less than positive about the birthday party they had been forced to endure in their best clothes, I had a captive audience.

It was fun to spend an hour or impressing my young audience and showing off, teaching Morgan and his buddy Andrew some basic magic. I genuinely did not panic about the whereabouts of Teresa while I was doing this.

The rest of the party is what I expect.

Too many people in too small a place, too much loud music, shouting, singing, noise.

I am too set in my ways I think to enjoy an event like tonight anymore.

So I hover around the perimeter of what is going, engaging with people when I have to – smiling and sipping my wine, but really just wanting to go home with Teresa. I know I would engage more successfully if there were less people here, but I can't muster the effort anymore to participate in this. Large parties were such a part of who I was when I didn't like myself, and yes they were much flashier than this but the remembrance of them is dragging me down tonight.

Teresa is being engaging and charming to all of those she meets – and despite her insistence that I do not, I can't help but to keep an eye on her. And that is honestly partly for the pure pleasure of looking at her lovely face when she laughs and smiles. Anyway, she is being everything I am not tonight.

She is dancing with Stephen, Jess and Morgan now – they're laughing and doing some frankly ridiculous moves so I leave to go for a quick walk around the garden to lighten my mood. I know I'll get better at being with people; perhaps I really shouldn't have been so quick to get drunk last night. All of this was so much easier when I was in my twenties.

I avoid the crowd already in the garden, their laughter and talking a blur to me as I move through to try and find a place of my own.

"You coming to join me Patrick?"

Jill is sitting at the end of her garden, her back against a tree, and an opened bottle of wine at her feet.

"I was feeling a little out of sorts, so I was escaping for a moment."

"Me too, come sit by me Patrick. You want a drink?"

"I most certainly do not."

She's laughing now, and I can remember more of that from last night.

"Stephen crawled to the bathroom this morning, literally on his hands and knees. Both of you are charming drunks, but I don't think champagne is meant to be drunk in those quantities."

"I know that now."

"So what's up?"

"I could ask you the same question Jill, why are you hiding out here?"

"I wanted some quiet."

"Me too."

"Okay, so Patrick you tell me the truth first and then I'll tell mine."

"I don't feel at my best tonight."

"That would be the alcohol. You're dehydrated; you should be drinking a lot of water – not tea, just water."

"As sensible as that sounds, I don't think it's only the after effects of drinking. I'm not very good at parties, and Teresa is making me be sensible and allow her mingle on her own. I'm not very good at that either."

Jill moves her hand to my knee for a few seconds and squeezes it affectionately. While I might not appreciate a large gathering anymore, I do enjoy the increased bonds of friendship I have these days.

"You are a gregarious man Patrick, why would you think yourself no good at parties? The kids loved you earlier, and my mother in law is more than a little in love with you. She was telling me earlier about the lovely chat you had about antiques."

"She's a nice woman it wasn't hard to talk with her."

"Well that's what a party is, talking with people. I would say that's one of your fortes Patrick."

"No it isn't, not really. I can enjoy messing with people a little too much, I tend to be cruel. Going to parties reminds me of a time when working a room was work. And that reminds of my old life, and I don't like myself very much. Which in turn reminds me of my family, which makes me think about Teresa out there on her own; and the craziness continues."

"No. I definitely just think its dehydration."

And her dismissal of my complaints has me laughing in a way I didn't think I would tonight.

"Oh okay then, if that's what you think."

"Look Patrick, I don't have all the answers despite my usual insistence to the contrary. But I have never witnessed this cruelty you're talking about. And I'm not saying it doesn't exist, but the people you have spoken to tonight and that have spoken to me about you have liked you. Everyone is happy that Teresa has found someone worthy of her. And it's okay to feel overwhelmed if things like this remind you of what you were, and what you've lost – that's the point you go grab what you have. You want to feel better, don't sit our here with me, go and find Teresa and say honey I need you and I guarantee she will make it better by being."

"Okay."

"You'll go do that?"

"Can I call her sweetheart instead of honey?"

"If you insist."

"Okay, I can live in a world where I need Teresa Lisbon."

"Me too, I like living in a world where I need her too. So have you decided on a date for when you're going to make her Teresa Jane?"

"I hope soon, but it's up to Teresa; whatever she wants is fine with me."

"That is exactly the right attitude. The ring is gorgeous by the way, a beautiful choice."

"Thank you. So are we going to talk about me all night and avoid why you are out here?"

"I was hoping to."

I watch as Jill toys with wine bottle in front of her. It doesn't look she's had very much, and she certainly doesn't seem inebriated in any way. She frankly just looks a little sad.

"Can I help with anything? I'm not prying, but Teresa mentioned you'd had a bad day at work when she spoke to you the other night."

I feel like the worst man in the world as my words have brought tears to her eyes.

"I'm sorry Patrick, I don't mean to be so emotional or embarrass you and really, really I'm fine."

"Should I go and get Stephen for you?"

"No, honestly I'm going in in a minute – it's present time soon and I don't want to miss that. And it's nearly time for cake; I refuse to miss cake at my own party."

"So why are you here hiding?"

"I was taking a moment to be sad."

"Should I be worried, can I do anything?"

"Yes, you can marry my friend and make her happy for the rest of her life. About me being sad for a while; not really. You're very kind to listen, which negates some of your self- loathing from earlier incidentally. Work wasn't making me sad the other day, well in a way it was work but not like Teresa assumed. A friend from work, a colleague I've worked beside for a lot of years is very sick. She's had to quit work to concentrate on treatment and I spoke to her for a while a few days ago, I can't tell you how useless I felt. I couldn't fix her problems with my smart ass remarks – so I was essentially useless."

"I'm sure that's not true, I'm sure you weren't useless."

"I know, it's self-pity saying that which is not an attractive colour on anyone. I'm worried about her is all. And I'm worried something will happen to me, or Stephen, or my children, or my mom… I'm just having a sad moment. I wanted to think about my friend for a while. And I wanted to have a misplaced worry about all of the things that could possibly happen to my family and friends that I have no control over."

"If I were a braver man I would admit to Teresa that I want to lock her in our apartment and never let her leave."

"She'd break down the door, and then hurt you if you did."

"Of that I am well aware."

"And even if you did that Patrick, even if you hid her away from people in the world who might harm her; you'd still not be able to protect her from those things in life that blindside you."

"I know. I don't think you should sit here much longer, it's okay to worry but you can't sit on the outside and hope that brooding will make it better."

"Preach it Mr Jane."

"And she's back."

Jill lays her head on my shoulder for a few moments, and it's strange to be the dispenser of good sense. I like it though; I like the tethers of friendship being strengthened.

"Maybe you should go tell your husband honey I need you."

"I hate it when people quote me to me. I always sound much more ridiculous outside of my head."

"I get that too."

"Okay Blondie, let's go cheer up and find the better parts of ourselves."

I stand up, brush off my trousers and lean down to help Jill up from where she sits. We walk back into the party together and seek out those who can heal us. Jill joins her family who are still dancing to some rhythm apparently only they recognise; which is actually quite lovely to watch. I leave them though to find Teresa.

She is in the kitchen, filling the dishwater and tidying away empty clean plates.

"Aren't you supposed to be having fun, Teresa?"

She turns at my question, a smile on her face as she moves across the kitchen to hug me.

"Hey, I haven't seen you for ages. I'm exhausted; I forgot how much energy you need to talk for hours. And I've been made to engage in very strange dancing with the Barkers, and people could see. You okay?"

I tighten my arms around her, delighted to listen to her happiness. I whisper the words to her that I know will always be my redemption, because now I can tell her instead of keeping it to myself.

"I need you sweetheart."

My arms are wrapped entirely around her small frame, and Teresa tightens her hold around my waist.

"You have me, Patrick. You always will."

I kiss her forehead, listening to her hum of pleasure at my touch.

"So as I was saying Teresa; I need you to come dance with me sweetheart. Will you?"

"Well, I sort of promised this guy..."

I grab her round the waist and lift her against me, calling her a wicked woman as she laughs at me. As much as today has been exhausting and at times difficult, it's all worth it to hear Teresa laugh like that.

I imagine that will be true for all things for the rest of my life.