Warning: Their love most certainly isn't a platonic one ;-) Though nothing too graphic in this chapter...
Surviving their first fight had been three days ago. It was early Wednesday evening now, and Patrick was nervously inspecting his clothes, trying to decide whether his usual three-piece-suit would be adequate for a night at the opera with his grandparents or if he should rather settle on a full-out tux.
Teresa had opted out of the evening entertainment, mostly because she wanted to give her lover some alone-time with his relatives, but also because she really wasn't that much into opera and had been afraid to find herself in the middle of a bunch of aficionados. She knew for a fact that her consultant enjoyed classical music very much, and considering that his grandmother was actually a professional musician, Lisbon guessed that her husband couldn't exactly be a loather either.
Now she watched her lover with great amusement, teasingly calling him a girl. Finally she took pity on him because she could see his insecurities rearing their ugly heads again and this fashion problem progressively turning into an all consuming question of appearing adequate in front of his grandparents. So she left him for a moment to make a call.
"Hi, Elisa. This is Teresa. - No, I won't accompany Patrick tonight. I thought he'd told you. - Ah, no, I didn't reconsider. No, what I wanted to know is how formal an affair it's going to be. - Oh, I'm afraid I have a very nervous boyfriend on my hands right now. - Yes, I know, he'd be suitably clad in almost any company in his usual attire, but he's still anxious he might be underdressed. - Ah, okay, so Jonathan will wear a normal suit and hates ties. Very well. You've helped me a lot. Thanks. Have much fun tonight."
She went back to her high-strung lover, pulled out the suit she liked the most on him, a dark-gray pinstriped one, and a white shirt and sent him to the bathroom. He cast her a thankful look and disappeared. She snickered and went ahead and found him black socks and his one pair of black shoes, well, actually, his all-around second pair of shoes. Shoe-shopping was definitely something she put on the list of things they should do soon; it wouldn't be an easy task and she predicted a fight in her near future. The state of his underwear and socks was also reason for worry, and some of his shirts showed obvious signs of decay as well. And jeans, she REALLY wanted to go jeans-shopping with him, yum…
She'd asked him about the sorry state of his wardrobe after she'd forced him to throw out a pair of completely threadbare boxer shorts, and he'd admitted that he hadn't really bought anything new for himself ever since his wife and child had died. It was clearly another of his countless ways of punishing himself, she'd concluded, because she knew he actually had a lot of fashion sense and was by no means unheeding when it came to his own appearance, though he wasn't exactly vain either.
She decided to slowly work on his disregard for himself. She would start small. No sense to push too much too soon. He would just clam up then. Money was a sour spot after all, and he had obviously a very hard time spending anything but the most essential on himself. Fortunately, food seemed to be the exception. Food and drink. But she suspected that this had more to do with him spoiling her.
It had always been like that – even before they'd become lovers. He always brought her barista coffee and went to the best bakery in Sacramento to get her beloved bear claws. And he didn't shy away from leaving the city to get fresh fruit for her either. When it came to food he had a real knack for finding the best quality of each product. Still, she somehow doubted that he'd indulged himself that much in that regard either during the last nine years.
And she was equally as sure that though he loved music and theater and the like, he hadn't been to any performances either if it hadn't been in the context of his work. The case they'd had a while ago, where the first violin of a symphony orchestra had been the murder victim, had been a real revelation for her in that regard. He'd attended all the rehearsals he could get away with, and after he'd closed the case, she'd witnessed one of his very rare unguarded moments: she'd come back after delivering the perp to her teammates, planning to drag a certain consultant gone astray back to HQ with her. What she'd found, of all things, was an extremely happy looking Patrick Jane jamming away on a contrabass with the other musicians.
She'd just stood and listened and, most of all, enjoyed watching the man being truly carefree for once. It had been a beautiful sight. She'd left after a while before he could notice her, because she didn't want him to feel embarrassed. Hence she'd never brought it up in conversation either.
Until that day, she hadn't had the slightest idea her consultant could play an instrument. Not that it really surprised her. Sometimes she had the utterly annoying impression that there was very little that bastard couldn't do to at least some degree…
He reappeared in the bedroom where she still stood deep in thought. "Didn't know my skivvies were that fascinating," he teased her, pecking her on the cheek in passing. "Ah, thanks for finding me a pair of socks." He sat down on the edge of the bed and put on both socks and shoes.
His return had pulled her out of her stupor and she looked him over with appreciation. "It's a good thing I won't be coming along tonight. I'd ravish you during the first act," she said huskily with hunger in her eyes.
"No fair. You can't say things like that fifteen minutes before my grandparents are due to come by, Teresa. And besides, you probably spoilt the whole first act for me now," he groaned and got up from the bed.
She took two steps in his direction. His eyes got wide and he raised his hands to keep her at a safe distance. "Oh no, Teresa. Don't do this to me," he begged.
But she grinned and came even closer. "I want at least a kiss, Patrick. I'm going to be all alone tonight. And I'm gonna miiiissss yooouuu," she drawled seductively.
"Sneaky minx," he grumbled, before he decided to turn the tables. He was the master of mind games after all and she was a mere apprentice even on her best day. Stealing himself, he pulled her flat against his chest and devoured her mouth in a passionate kiss that had the immediate and desired effect of curling her toes. His forefinger traced her spine with purpose as well, because he knew she had some very sensitive spots there.
As intended, she was hot and aroused in a matter of seconds and moaned needily into his mouth. His hand left her back and sneaked between their bodies, touching her breasts on the way, before it settled lower, his fingers teasing her core through her pants. He could feel her wetness through two layers of clothes and had to pull all the tricks in his book for the whole thing not to backfire massively.
He realized she'd become frantic when she tried to pull off his clothes. That's when he released her and stepped back, giving off an air of being totally unaffected. He took in the picture of his completely disheveled and needy lover and congratulated himself on a job well-done.
She stood before him with eyes as big as saucers, aroused and speechless, only slowly comprehending that she'd just been played. Her face turned angry, which made her incredibly cute in his opinion, and it was only the door bell ringing that saved him from either her wrath or her passion – maybe even both, he wasn't sure.
"Sorry, dear. My escort for the night has arrived. Have a nice evening," he purred, pecking her lips in passing on his way out.
Halfway down the stairs he heard the expected shout of "You miserable bastard!" and grinned merrily. Thus he was in high spirits when he greeted his grandparents who were a bit disappointed, they couldn't at least say hello to Teresa. Patrick told them she was indisposed at the moment and Jonathan and Elisa had the certain feeling that their grandson had something to do with that fact considering the evil glint in his eyes and the false smile he'd sported when he'd said that.
After he'd left her standing in her bedroom, all frustrated and dissatisfied, Teresa cursed Jane to all hell and back. She swore revenge. It took her a full ten minutes to compose herself again and that's when she also started to see at least a little spark of humor in the situation. Her imp had played her, and played her well – no doubt about it. On the other hand, she'd probably granted him the chance to distract himself from the lingering nervousness still accompanying every meeting he had with his grandparents. And if she saw it from that perspective, she couldn't be too angry with him. Still, it nagged her that he had such power over her – and that he knew it too. Though she was pretty sure, she had quite a bit of sway over him as well. He hadn't been as unaffected as he'd wanted her to believe. A man couldn't hide his arousal all that well after all and he could count himself lucky she'd put him into a suit with enough space in the crotch-area…
With her equilibrium firmly re-established and a devious grin on her lips, she went down to the kitchen and filled the kettle, which had magically appeared in her kitchen about four weeks ago, to make herself a cup of tea. And at this point she got slightly miffed again because surely that wretched sprite hadn't already turned her into a tea-drinker too?
She grumbled to herself about sneaky and useless consultants who thought they could just come and flip over her life, all the while regarding the contents of her wall cupboard, namely a nearly obscene assortment of the most delicious blends of tea money could buy, in happy anticipation. She decided to be a bit adventurous and try one containing that stuff called rooibos. She wasn't sure she'd ever had that type before, but the additional flavoring sounded delicious - strawberry, rhubarb and pana cotta – and indicated that Patrick had bought it specifically for her. She smiled fondly at his thoughtfulness and called herself a love-sick puppy without dignity right after.
The brewing tea smelled heavenly. She'd decided to add milk and caught herself pouring it in first, because a voice in her head that sounded eerily like Jane's had told her to do so. She shook her head at her own antics and realized that though this was the first evening she would spend alone in her apartment in two weeks, Patrick still seemed to be present everywhere. She took great comfort in that thought. Obviously she wasn't fed up with him – yet. She grinned.
She'd been afraid that having him around constantly both at work and at home would be challenging to say the least. They had their disagreements and squabbles, and had survived one major fight as well, but all in all it was much the opposite: she craved his presence more and more.
This realization caught her by surprise. Where were her usual fears regarding commitment? Why didn't she feel caged? How was it possible that she had surrendered her whole freedom and normal need for space like that? And what had happened to her deep rooted want for privacy?
He was everywhere now, from his kettle in the kitchen to his toothbrush in the bathroom, from his puzzle books on the coffee table to his clothes in her closet. He'd become an integral part of her life in such a short amount of time – it was kind of shocking. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find any fault with this development. On the contrary, it felt right. It was simply the way it was meant to be and she missed him whenever he wasn't nearby.
Hopefully, their next weekend wouldn't be disturbed by another case because she really, seriously wanted to spend more quality time with him, preferably naked. He had turned her into a randy teenager…
She blushed remembering actually being late for work for the first time in her life because she just couldn't resist that handsome bastard. And even if she claimed otherwise, she knew she couldn't blame him for that one… Her smile lit up her face at the memory. He'd been so utterly cute…
She shook her head in dismay. Now he made her even hot without actually being present. Something was seriously wrong with her. No self-control at all these days. It was completely his fault of course. He'd left her unsatisfied after all. Yes, that must be it. She was just a poor, sexually frustrated woman who'd been mistreated and neglected awfully by her lover. Somehow the excuse sounded lame, she admitted to herself with another grin.
Taking the tea mug with her to the living room, she sat down on the couch and placed the steaming beverage in front of her right beside her briefcase. She'd taken some paperwork home with her, intending to make use of her imp-free time. She opened it and took out some file folders and started to work. The only interruption to her concentration was the first taste of the tea. She'd moaned with pleasure. He really knew her well.
She continued with the forms she had to fill out and about an hour later she was completely caught up with her work. Tomorrow morning her desk would only show whatever new work would come up during the night. She was very satisfied with her accomplishments.
Now there was only one piece of paper left that she wanted to read through tonight: Patrick's consultant contract. Ever since he'd mentioned that lack of leave in it, she'd wanted to look into it. She was sure he'd fibbed, but she had to admit that it had been rather negligent of her to never read that thing. She was his boss after all and though she was the one to hand him his paychecks every week, she didn't even know how much he earned, truth be told.
But during the years, and with all his schemes and the countless problems he'd caused, she'd decided to leave all the official dealings with him to her boss and the director himself. It was enough that she'd had to do all the additional paperwork. And write apology letters, call disgruntled VIPs, appease angry members of local law enforcement, and the like. In her opinion, the rest could and should very well be handled by those higher up than her. But she was more inclined to deal with the drawbacks now that she also got the benefits of his attentions… A big smile spread on her face. No, don't even think of going there again, she scolded herself just seconds later.
She was a bit hungry and decided to reheat some left-overs (something delicious with rice and chicken and vegetables in a curry-flavored sauce Jane had prepared the day before) and have a glass of wine while examining the contract.
Armed with good food and wine she sat down on the couch again ten minutes later and started to take a look at the papers in front of her. Her face turned darker with each passing minute and halfway through the thing she was cursing like a sailor. This was completely outrageous, she decided. A real scandal in fact. If she leaked this piece of paper to the press, the PR-fallout for the CBI would be disastrous. She was sure she could ruin the director with it if she wanted.
Damn Jane for never even mentioning it. She knew he wasn't in it for the money. He'd made that clear repeatedly. But this? She had no idea why he tolerated these conditions, and it pained her to think that he'd thought until very recently that she was both familiar with this and had accepted it.
She was furious and she wanted to share her outrage with someone. The person most suited wasn't available though. After a moment of contemplation she went ahead and called Cho. He might not always be the best person to vent one's anger with, but this she knew would tick off the normally stoic man because he held - if nothing else - great respect for Jane's abilities.
She asked him whether he was occupied or if he might be willing to come over for a while. He was a bit surprised to be invited into her home a second time in the course of one week, but agreed to be there as soon as possible, sensing that his boss needed an ear. He just hoped that idiot Jane hadn't done something stupid and hurt her. But as if reading his mind she added, "And yes, this is about Jane, but it's kind of not his fault anyway. He's out with his grandparents tonight."
By the time Cho arrived about 15 minutes later Teresa was seething. He held out a bottle of tequila to her. "Figured you could do with something a bit stronger, the way you sounded on the phone." Taking one look at her he added, "Guess I was right."
TBC
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