A/N: This is just a very short chapter, well not even a real one, but the only thing I've left that's edited at the moment.

I'm also using this opportunity to tell you that I'm still alive and haven't abandoned this fic. Please keep up the faith and your patience - I hope to get some new edits from my beta soon and I promise I'll update with a longer chapter then. Trust me that this fic will not be discontinued. I've already written the whole thing and I just have to tie up some loose ends in the epilogue before it's fully completed. I'm really sorry for the long wait.

Enjoy this little teaser in the meantime.


And because it's been so long since, here a little recap from the last chapter to help you remember where and how it ended:

At the moment Patrick was happily prattling away about this and that, waxing poetic about the prettiness of the most absurd things like street lights and picket fences, concluding with the verdict that his 'Tre-se-se-sa's' beauty still overshadowed everything else and that he was the 'luckiest-est' man in the world. One could hardly stay annoyed with a guy talking like that…

By the time she'd finally convinced him that the only other party tonight would be the one taking place inside their home, nearly twenty minutes had gone by since they'd left the cab only a block away. Though she wasn't really sober herself, she was in complete control of her faculties and managed to make some tea and got him to drink two mugs before he went out like a light on the couch. She took off his shoes, pushed him over, and pulled up his legs so he was at least reclining, put a huge glass of water and a bottle with pain relievers on the coffee table, covered him with a comforter, ruffled his hair lovingly, and gave him a goodnight kiss on his cheek, which made him smile in his sleep.


==) O ( O ) O (==

On Tuesday morning Patrick wasn't a happy camper. He was completely hung over when Teresa woke him at 7:15. He drained two glasses of water and swallowed the two pills she handed him, before he dared to open his bleary eyes and face the day with a groan.

"I don't really need to get up, do I?" he whined.

"Morning, Sunshine," she teased him. "Another glorious day is waiting just for you."

"You are a cruel woman, Lisbon. And shouldn't we give the rain a chance for a change?" he answered, propping himself up fully with a sigh. "Dark is definitely better if you ask me."

She snickered and sat down beside him, ruffling his sleep tousled hair, massaging his aching scalp. He moaned with pleasure. "Mmh, feels good," he said and lay down again with his head in her lap, giving her perfect access.

"Okay, imp. Here's the deal. I'll continue with this for a few more minutes if you promise to get up afterwards." He nodded. "We have to leave together today because my car's still at the Fir Tree, and besides, I don't think you're in any state to drive right now," she explained. "And we're a bit on the late side already."

"Can't you just ask Cho to pick you up?" Patrick suggested hopefully.

Teresa shook her head. "Oh no, Sunshine. You promised. And I'm sure you don't want to miss out on the show today. Remember: Bertram's been sacked. I'll even grant you one 'I told you so'. But now get a move on your delectable behind and take a shower. I'll make some breakfast. You'll feel better after eating something." To emphasize her point, she placed one resounding smack on his butt.

"Ow!" he cried out. "You're a horrible brute, Lisbon."

"And you're a whiny wimp, Jane. Up with you now," she ordered.

He got to his feet, rubbed his abused posterior, and stumbled upstairs grumbling under his breath in a mocking tone, "Yes, boss; at once, boss; as you wish, boss; at your service, boss; anything else, boss; your humble servant, boss; happy to oblige, boss; my pleasure, boss…"

Teresa on the other hand went to the kitchen with a smirk. He was definitely awake now, considering the increasing creativity of his ramblings…


TBC