This is it - the last part of this story and the completion of my story arc. It's pretty long for an epilogue, but considering the overall length of the story it's kind of appropriate...
To mark the occasion, there'll be a special treat in the end, or at least I'd like to think so... For the last scene of my fic I've had the great pleasure of working together with fellow fanfic writer entwife incognito. If you're not familiar with her work, you should definitely rectify that oversight! In my opinion she's the uncrowned queen of M-rated encounters between Jane and Lisbon and I can also recommend her other work. That being said, she's co-authored the last scene of this fic and I'm sure, you won't have any problems to recognize her delightful input. I had a lot of fun with that particular part and her suggestions and beautiful images were a big inspiration. Thanks, entwife!
Another thanks goes to my beta firstdown, who accompanied me for most of the way through this story. Unfortunately, real life prevented her from following me to the finishing line. Still, I appreciate her help and I want to thank her for all the time and effort she put into my work. I'm glad to have gained a friend in her in the process as well. I wish her all the best for her own writing.
And another thanks to Marcia Santos. She's been the most loyal reviewer the whole time through and has always been very encouraging.
I also want to thank the rest of my reviewers. I really appreciate your support.
Disclaimer: I should probably stress the fact once more that all the artists and works of art etc. mentioned in this chapter and in the story as a whole don't belong to me. And neither does The Mentalist.
Warning: Major fluff alert and definitely M-rated sex.
Epilogue
)C(A)T(C)H( )A( )T(Y)G(E)R(
It was almost four months later - exactly half a year after Red John's demise, give or take a day or two - when Madeleine Hightower paid her future subordinate, special agent Lisbon, a visit at work one fine Friday afternoon.
"Hello, Teresa," she greeted the other woman.
"Why, hello, Madeleine. What brings you to my office and the CBI? Official business, I assume?" Lisbon returned the greeting with a friendly smile. "Or are you here to wait for Cho? He's out in the field with Rigsby but should be back soon."
The black skinned woman looked a bit embarrassed, but shook her head no. "This isn't official and neither is it about Cho. I'm here because Patrick coerced me into delivering a message from him to you. I have to admit that I've yet to master resisting his puppy dog eyes," she explained sheepishly.
Lisbon snickered. "Don't worry. I haven't either and one would think I'd have had enough training by now. But then again, I find him generally irresistible, so I'm probably not really objective. So what does our resident puppy want you to tell me?"
"It's a bit of a puzzle, I'm afraid. But he said he was positive you'd figure it out. He asked me to tell you to remember a conversation you two had quite in the beginning of your relationship. And then you should come to a place related to both my last name and that important talk," Hightower told her with a very bemused look. "I hope it rings your bell, Teresa, because frankly, I have no idea what he means."
Lisbon spent some minutes in deep thought trying to go over potential conversations she'd had with her lover at the start of their romantic relationship. She didn't really succeed because she was too preoccupied cursing him for testing her memory like that. It was so typical for him to talk in riddles. Why that man couldn't just outright say things was a mystery to her. Well, not entirely. He was a showman, had always been one and would probably continue being one until his last day.
She'd just decided she had to stop being irritated if she wanted to have any chance figuring out his message when Madeleine interrupted her thoughts and said tentatively, "Ahm. And he told me to remind you that cursing him in your head won't help you remembering."
"I hate him," Lisbon muttered, which made Hightower chuckle.
After another moment to get over her irritation Teresa started thinking back for real with the name Hightower as a clue and soon it began to dawn on her. It had been the day they'd went on their fateful visit to the carnival. Before he'd called Andy, they'd talked about Patrick sharing the news of their relationship with his friends and ultimately with the team as well. He'd said, that he would shout his love for her from the highest tower in the city, if she allowed him to. That he was the luckiest man and would like to share it with the whole world. She'd teased him for being sappy and he'd threatened to really do it. She'd answered him that the scary thing was, that she fully believed him.
She still remembered the devious grin he'd sported afterwards and groaned in dismay.
"Oh no! He wouldn't, would he?" she exclaimed, knowing fully well that, yes, he would. "Looks like it's payback time," she muttered, left her office, motioning for Madeleine to follow her and made her way to the bullpen where she approached Van Pelt. "Grace, could you please find me the tallest building in Sacramento?"
The red headed agent nodded with a grin and typed something into her computer. "Jane told me to expect a strange request like that from you. I'm supposed to accompany you there as well. Had to promise, actually. Wayne and Cho too." She didn't lose her smile even when her boss glared at her. "Ah, here we go. It's the Wells Fargo Center, Boss. Is that where we're supposed to go?"
"Yes, obviously," Lisbon mumbled. "I'm gonna kill him. Should've known he was up to no good when he disappeared several times without informing me of his where-abouts lately. And he was gone all day yesterday. Came home very late. And disappeared again early in the morning." She sighed resigned and added, "Well, guess there's no way around this. I shudder to think what he'll come up with if we don't follow his, ahm, orders."
Van Pelt and Hightower shared an amused and slightly puzzled look, shrugged, and went along with a disgruntled Lisbon down to the parking lot, where they met Cho and Rigsby who were just coming back from interviewing a witness in their latest case. "You got Jane's message too?" Wayne inquired. The ladies nodded. "Yeah. He seemed convinced you'd appear down here just about now. We hope you know where to go because he wouldn't tell us, the secretive bastard," Rigsby continued with a grin.
They decided to take three cars and were joined by a more or less running and very much panting LaRoche seconds before leaving. Their destination wasn't far off so they arrived at the foot of the skyscraper soon afterwards. The place before the main entrance to the tower was plastered with police vehicles, ambulances, and even a fire engine. Lisbon took in the situation, groaned and approached the SacPD officer in charge. "Hello, Richards. What's the status?"
"Oh, hi Agent Lisbon. What are you doing here? This isn't a CBI case, is it? Just a jumper. I don't think your presence is needed here."
"You're wrong, I'm afraid. My presence is very much needed here and that-," Teresa pointed up to the outline of a human figure on the top of the building, "-is not a jumper. It's Jane and he's not suicidal, or maybe that's debatable, because I'm gonna kill him for that stunt."
The news traveled fast around all the officials gathered at the foot of the tower. "It's the hero," someone from the management of the center declared. "We have that hero on our roof. You know, the one who got that serial killer. Wow! A real hero on our tower!"
From that moment it didn't take long for the press to arrive at the scene and for Lisbon to almost blow a gasket. She took her cell phone and called the first person on her speed dial. "Hi, Lisbon," she was greeted merrily by her boyfriend. "I'm happy to see that you could make it."
"Come down immediately or I swear, I don't know what I'll do," she threatened him.
"Temper, temper, Agent Lisbon. And I'm afraid I can't come down just yet. Give me a few minutes, will you? We're just waiting for some other important guests to arrive as far as I can judge from up here. Ah, I think there they are. Splendid! I have to hang up now, my dear. Bye."
Seething she held her cell phone in front of her which was only producing the dialing tone now. She shook her head, put the useless device into the pocket of her jacket and looked around. She noticed several familiar faces in the ever growing crowd. Minelli with May, Andy and Sheila, Pete and Sam, the owners of the Fir Tree, all the members of the Jane family and several others of her and Jane's acquaintances. Her eyebrows raised when she even caught a glimpse of Walter Mashburn, but what really made her mouth fall open was when she spotted her three brothers leaving a mini-van cap - together and amicably at that – accompanied by their families. Before she could go and greet them, her lover's voice could be heard, distorted by a megaphone, but still loud and clear enough.
"Hello friends and family and rubberneckers. I'm glad to see you all here. I've an important announcement to make, a promise to keep, some paying back to do, and a momentous question to ask." He made a pregnant pause. "First and foremost: Teresa Lisbon, I love you with all my heart. Thus, in keeping a promise I made some months ago, I stand here on the highest tower in this city today to let the whole world know that I'm the happiest man and that I'm eternally grateful to have you in my life," he declared earnestly.
"I wake up every morning – and yes, folks, I actually manage to sleep most of the nights these days – feeling humbled and happy when my eyes fall on the woman lying beside me – or in most cases – on top of me." One could almost hear his smile even through the bullhorn.
"A decade ago I thought my life had essentially ended and back then it was a mere shell of a man walking around, only keeping it going thinking of revenge. For me, my only purpose was to get the bastard who took my wife and child from me. I had no intention of surviving it, no plans for an afterwards." He paused again, his voice hoarse with emotion.
"But then I ended up joining Teresa Lisbon and her formidable team at the CBI and slowly, but steadily my outlook on life changed. First, I only wanted to use my time until catching Red John to make an attempt to redeem myself, to make up for all the dubious things I've done in the past. But with time I was infected by the spirit of friendship and camaraderie my teammates taught me each day through their actions."
He had to stop again, overwhelmed by his feelings. Gathering his wits he went on, "And with Agent Lisbon I had the most upright, strong, no nonsense guide I could ever wish for. I remember fondly how she reamed me out time and again, always trying to make me understand the consequences of my actions. Can't say she was that successful - especially in the beginning. I'm afraid I challenged her patience more than anyone has ever done and I'm sure she was close to sending me packing many times."
He could hear the crowd laughing even up at over 400 feet. Encouraged he continued, "But she was also the most caring, fair, and understanding person I've ever met and ultimately she never gave up on me. And after a few years of some fierce trial and error we found some kind of compromise between us, became real partners."
Another meaningful pause followed, but he wasn't finished yet. "To be honest, it was more her doing than mine and I know I have been and still am a jerk who can't help himself but overstep the lines. So it's with great wonderment and awe I stand here today-," his voice was thick with emotion once more, "-grateful beyond words – though I've already bored you with quite a few – telling you all that she has decided to let me into her private life as well and has given me her love and trust."
His voice broke at that point and he had to clear his throat before he could go on, his tone tinged with obvious wonder. "All I'm able to give in return is my heart and I'm so, so thankful it seems she deems that to be enough."
He had to clear his throat again. "Teresa Lisbon, I love you so much and more and more every day and I want to share the rest of my life with you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
The crowd had listened attentively with growing emotion and there were several people covertly wiping their eyes. Teresa couldn't decide whether to die from embarrassment (she was sure, she'd never blushed so much before in her life) or be touched by her lover's idiotic action and sappy speech, but in the end she couldn't help the tears escaping her eyes. She grabbed a megaphone from one of the police cars and to the delight of the guests and onlookers she answered his heartfelt question in a hoarse voice, "Yes, of course I'll marry you. I love you, Patrick Jane. God knows why, but I do. And now come down so I can punch your nose, you idiot!"
"Only if you promise to kiss it better afterwards," he replied, voice still audibly heavy with emotion.
"I think that can be arranged," she said lovingly, face still deep red. "And now get a move so all those poor police officers, paramedics, and firefighters you've forced to be here with your stupid stunt can finally leave."
By the time Patrick had managed to get down from the 423 ft tall building Teresa had already greeted her brothers, their wives, Annabeth, and the rest of her nephews and nieces and was surrounded by well-wishers and congratulators. The moment Jane was spotted, the crowd opened a path for him.
From the people present only Danny Ruskin had ever seen him with a face as genuinly happy and a smile as beaming as the one he currently sported – incidentally it had been at his sister's wedding day. It left him with slightly mixed feelings, but Patrick had called him two weeks ago and had invited him here. He'd been open and honest about the whole thing and Danny had decided that his brother-in-law deserved to move on. His sister would've wanted it and he was sure that Annie was up there somewhere today, looking down with a big smile, glad her Rick had finally found happiness again.
When Jane had reached his fiancé looking positively elated, Lisbon didn't have the heart to make true of her promise to punch him. She let him pull her into a fierce embrace and returned his passionate kiss eagerly. To her total mortification it earned them cheers and clapping from their friends and family (and the rest of their audience, which was even worse in her opinion). If this continued she was sure that the damn blush on her face would become permanent.
When they had to end the kiss due to lack of oxygen and she had recovered from the embarrassment of this very public display, she eyed her fiancé critically. A moment later at his questioning look and with a pout she said, "Well, Mr. Jane, isn't there something you've forgotten?"
He was visibly puzzled for a moment but soon enough it dawned on him and he looked sheepish. His hand went into the pocket of his suit jacket and he retrieved a small, black, satiny box from it. He opened it carefully to the gasps of the surrounding people, revealing a very tasteful golden band which artfully framed an opal in its naturally irregular but almost oval shape gleaming magnificently in different shades of green and blue. It was breath taking without being flashy, not exactly discreet or small, but not pretentious or overly showy, though it certainly caught the eye.
Lisbon fell in love with it on the spot. She'd never worn anything so fancy before – apart from that one night in Calida/Nevada, when Jane had bought those jewels for her and Grace from his Black Jack winnings. But in contrast to that time when the jewelry had been outright swanky, this ring was completely to her taste, impressing with the thoughtful choice of stone (which she was sure was worth a tidy sum as well…) and the unique design instead of sheer size.
It was hard but finally she managed to take her eyes off the ring and looked up into the expectant face and giddy expression of her future husband. The smile she presented him with was soon mirrored on his face. "May I have your right hand, my dear?" he asked tenderly.
She couldn't form words and only nodded. He removed the band from the box and put it carefully on her right ring finger. It fit perfectly – not that he'd expected anything less. Satisfied he took in the sight of this token of commitment on her hand, having only eyes for her, even though their audience clapped again.
Teresa's gaze was firmly fixed on the ring as well and Patrick was very happy she seemed to like it so much. He was especially proud of it because he'd had a goldsmith make it after his own draft. He'd of course come up with the design solely with her in mind, but after their only other mutual experience with jewelry he had been a tad worried. "It's beautiful, Patrick. Thank you so much. I love it," she said dreamily. "I'll even forgive you for that embarrassing stunt you put me through," she added, attempting to send him a death glare but failing miserably.
"Hey, that was payback for tricking me into that awful award ceremony. I promised you to make you suffer for it. But I'd say your reward was a lot better than mine though I have to admit that ultimately, my reward today is the greatest one. I won an absolutely priceless price. The most precious one in existence." He said the last part with a dreamy and blissful face.
Teresa was just about to call him out on his hopeless mawkishness when another voice could be heard. "I couldn't agree more, Patrick, my friend," Walter Mashburn chimed in. "Congratulations. Who'd have thought you had it in you after all," he added teasingly and gave Jane a pat on the back that was a tad harder than strictly appropriate for a friendly gesture like that. "I mean, it was clear as day to me from the first time I met you two that you were in love with our dear Teresa." He grinned in his boyish way, though there was a slightly dangerous glint in his eyes. "But I'm a bit mad at you, Mr. Jane. You could've warned me. Only inviting me to a party without telling me the cause was a bit mean. But the show was quite entertaining, almost amusing even, so I'll forgive you." He exchanged a meaningful and accepting look with Lisbon and stepped away. In parting he inquired, "Is there going to be a party, by the way? Or was I misinformed on that account as well?"
Patrick had received the message from Mash loud and clear. The billionaire had acknowledged his defeat and had accepted it with as much dignity as he could muster. Now he wanted some fun to make up for the slight to his pride. Jane decided that it was as good a moment as any to make another announcement. "Dear friends and family. Would you please grant me your ears once more? I promise, it'll be the last time today," he addressed the people gathered around them.
When the crowd of the good and well fifty people he'd invited had grown silent he continued, "Thanks. Well, to celebrate the momentous occasion of Teresa agreeing to become my wife I'd like to invite you all to our engagement party. I thought it in good tradition to make it take place at the Fir Tree. I hope you'll all join us. I promise you drinks aplenty and delicious food." With a pointed look in the direction of the CBI team he added, "And yes, I helped preparing it though the poor chef, my dear Harriet here, protested vehemently at first. And there'll be entertainment as well. I'm happy to say that we've quite the bunch of very talented carnies and musicians with us today. So I expect to see you all at the party in a few."
Lisbon came close after his little speech and smiled teasingly. "Seems someone was very sure of himself. Or rather of my answer. Just imagine I'd said no after you'd gotten all those people here today and organized a party. Very presumptuous, Mr. Jane," she whispered in his ear.
"I know you can't resist me," he replied snootily. "So your answer was a given." She cast him a mock glare, shaking her head at his audacity. "Okay," he finally admitted. "I was hoping you'd be ready to accept my proposal, but in reality I was almost shitting my pants, Lisbon. I'm sure the tower grew another foot due to all the load off my mind when you said yes. Thanks for accepting me, my love. You've made me the happiest man alive."
"You're very sappy today, Patrick, but considering the occasion I'll grant you some leeway," she answered, trying to cover her obvious emotion with banter. She didn't fool him for a second of course, but he had no intention of calling her out on it. He just kissed her again and led her to his car afterwards so they could get to their party.
"Why did you invite Walter of all people?" Lisbon asked him during the drive, her lips pursed in slight irritation. "It put me in a very awkward position, you know. Not very pleasant. Did you do it to gloat about winning me or something?"
Jane smirked. "Oh, I admit that it didn't exactly hurt my manly pride, but no, my dear. I invited him because I consider him a friend and we're actually business partners – well in a manner of speaking."
"Business partners? Friends? I didn't even know you were still in contact with him. What kind of business partners, Patrick?" she inquired a bit warily, not all that comfortable with the thought of her future husband doing business with the sneaky billionaire.
He cast her an appeasing sideways glance. "Nothing sinister, Teresa. He's asked for my advice a few times during the years. I've accompanied him to some meetings with potential business partners and told him what I thought about their conduct. You know, flushing out the liars and the frauds. Things like that." With a chuckle he added, "He's been trying to convince me to work for him permanently ever since. But I keep declining his increasingly generous offers. It's become a bit of a game between us. He still believes he can get me for the right price. I beg to differ. It's been fun and I don't mind doing the occasional reading for him, but that's definitely all there is to it." A little thoughtful he went on, "I'm sorry if he makes you uncomfortable. I presumed it would be a bit awkward at some point, but I really hope it won't impair your ability to enjoy the party."
"No, it's alright. I think we came to a silent agreement earlier. Why didn't you tell me about your work with him before?" Teresa asked a bit carefully.
"Because I know it's a bit, well, weird to do business with the guy who I've kind of pushed into having a one-night-stand with my future wife – or the other way around. I was embarrassed and mortified, to be honest. Initially, I wanted you to have some noncommittal fun for a change back then, but believe me when I tell you that the moment I realized that you were on the other side of that door in Walter's hotel room, I was as jealous as hell," he admitted sheepishly.
She snorted. "You really are an idiot sometimes, Patrick." Her hand went to his thigh, patted him lightly, and stayed there. A bit snippy and defiant she added, "And I actually had fun, just so you know."
"I didn't doubt that," he acknowledged her words, pulling a face. But then he recovered his good mood and teased her, "And besides, we all benefited from it. You were definitely a lot more relaxed for the next few weeks afterwards. Not as mean and grumpy as usual. I mean, I only pushed you in his direction because you really needed to get laid at the time."
She slapped his thigh hard. "You, Mr. Jane, are a total jerk."
He only grinned in return.
They stayed silent for a while, both deeply immersed in happy thoughts. "I can't believe, you managed to get all three of my brothers here," Teresa finally broke the silence. "And it seems like they're really trying to get on. That's practically a miracle," she added with awe in her voice.
He patted her thigh. "You know, I can be very persuasive. And you've told me quite a bit about their difficulties with each other. With all those delightful modern communication devices nowadays you can actually do counseling sessions with people hundreds of miles away. According to Van Pelt it's called a conference call. Very neat." He cast a short glance over to her and took in her happy face. "I knew what it would mean to you to have them all here. And apart from being a horribly stubborn bunch – what else can you expect from a true Lisbon - they've one other thing in common: they love their big sister."
A warm smile graced his lips. "Very understandable." He cleared his throat. "Anyway. Getting them to reconcile and come here turned out to be the lesser of my problems. In the end it took me a lot more time, effort, and convincing to make them accept me as your future husband."
She raised her brow. "Did you ask my brothers for my hand?"
"Not exactly. I just mentioned my intentions during one of our conference calls and they suddenly switched into protective brother mode. It was downright creepy. But it was at least one other thing they could agree on."
"They have no right to butt into my personal life," she said a bit miffed. "I hope, they didn't give you too hard of a time." He shook his head no and smiled reassuringly. "Well, that's okay then," she conceded. After a short pause she started speaking again. "And Patrick? That was a very nice and thoughtful thing to do. I mean, getting them to talk things out for once. Thank you. I really appreciate it. It means very much to me to have them all here and together without being at each others' throats. Really, thanks." She wiped away a tear.
"You're very welcome, my love. I needed as many witnesses as possible today for your humiliation after all," he replied teasingly, but in a very warm tone.
She couldn't help but snicker. It was so typical Jane to defuse a potentially maudlin situation like that. For being such a sappy guy himself he sure hated others getting all emotional, especially when something nice he'd done was the cause. He still had a hard time accepting heartfelt gratitude, it made him delightfully bashful. It might not be very noble of her, but she had to admit that she enjoyed seeing her fiancé – geez, that still sounded strange – out of his depths on occasion.
Still grinning at the thought of him being embarrassed at her heartfelt thanks she decided to add another notch. "And Patrick? I really, really love the ring. It's beautiful. Wherever did you find it?" she asked.
He cleared his throat, which she read as a sure sign of his discomfort at yet another compliment. His eyes left the road ahead for a moment and fixed her inquiringly. Turning his head back he finally started to speak. "I asked a goldsmith to make it," he answered airily.
"Make it?" she inquired. "Like in coming up with something or what?"
"No. Not exactly." He paused and cleared his throat again, obviously reluctant to say more. But she cast him an encouraging look which made him cave. "I found the stone in a shop specializing in opals and came up with a draft I thought suited both the stone and you."
She smiled at him. "Really? You designed it yourself? Geez, Jane! Is there anything you can't do?" she teased him, but her voice held only warmth and awe. "Honestly, it's perfect. The colors are magnificent and the way the ring frames the stone is both unusual and perfect. Thanks, Patrick. I really appreciate the thought and effort you've put into this."
He'd blushed while she spoke and wriggled in his seat. "You're welcome," he mumbled sheepishly. "It's no less than you deserve. I'm just glad you like it. I hoped so, but I was a tad worried you'd find the thing too flashy or something. I don't think it's flashy but considering our past experiences with jewelry, which wasn't that promising as you know…"
He was interrupted by her at this point. "You're rambling, Patrick," she teased him.
"Sorry. Guess, I got carried away a bit."
She had to quell a laugh at his utterly sheepish expression but couldn't prevent a giggle to escape. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed."
"Meh," he murmured, still rather bashful. But a moment later he'd regained his poise and his face had turned smug. "So, you do appreciate and recognize my superior sense of fashion after all."
She snickered and shook her head at his antics. Boy, how she loved that idiot! He might be an arrogant, complacent prig, but he was definitely her arrogant, complacent prig. She bent over and pecked his cheek, though she'd have preferred to kiss him properly. Unfortunately that would have to wait until they'd arrived.
He smiled a happy little smile in answer to her affectionate gesture, but just a moment later his demeanor changed. He looked serious and a bit wary. "I have a confession to make," he said with caution. "I hope you won't find it too creepy or weird, Teresa."
She raised her brows and frowned. "That sounds ominous, Patrick. Out with it. Remember: I already said yes and I'm a woman of my word. And you've really made me curious now. Besides, I'll always appreciate you being open and honest with me, love."
"Right. Okay. The thing is that, well, part of the gold used in your engagement ring comes from my wedding band. I had no idea what else to do with it and I really like the thought of you wearing it. Of it being a part of a new beginning for me, for us. A second chance and a promise, instead of keeping it in a box hidden away somewhere," he explained hastily. Quietly and with a voice thick with emotion he added, "I sincerely hope, that won't ruin the ring for you. I know, I took a chance with it but it felt right to me."
"Oh, Patrick," was the only thing she managed to say around the sudden lump in her throat. Her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own and were touching and petting the priceless token of love and commitment he'd given her lovingly. He was right: maybe this was a bit creepy, but first and foremost it was incredibly touching and sweet in her opinion. He'd entrusted her with both the memory of his past and with the hope for his future. With this momentous gesture he'd told her that while he'd truly and fully moved on, his past would always be a part of him. And at the same time he'd asked her to accept this and him with all his baggage and create something new together with him.
They were both very glad that they'd arrived at their destination at that point. Lisbon had tears streaming down her face and Jane - for once - was not entirely sure what it meant. That she hadn't outright torn the ring from her finger filled him with cautious optimism, but she was touching the thing frantically which he wasn't certain how to interpret. He parked the car, released his belt and turned in her direction, fear and insecurity clearly visible on his face.
It took a moment for her to realize that they'd stopped, so deeply was she lost in thought and wonderment. But when she finally noticed, she got rid of her seat belt as fast as she could and threw herself into his arms. It was only thanks to his excellent reflexes that he managed to avoid any harm coming to them or mostly him. Fortunately he found his balance in time and returned her embrace with the greatest sense of relief.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she mumbled against his neck, where she'd buried her face.
"You're welcome," he answered hoarsely, overwhelmed with feelings.
She loosened her hold on him enough so she could mesh their lips together in a kiss filled to the brim with emotion. "I love you so much," she whispered deeply stirred, when the need to breathe had ended their lip-lock at long last. "And I'll cherish this-," she touched the ring gently, "-and you for the rest of my life, Patrick. I promise you that."
With one of the brightest smiles she'd ever seen on his face he wiped away the tear streaks from her cheeks and said huskily, "I'm glad to hear that, Teresa, because it happens to coincide exactly with my future plans." Very seriously he continued, "And I love you too. More than I can possibly express with words." He pecked her lips and with a sparkle in his eyes and in a cheery tone he added, "And now let's go and hot up our engagement party, Lisbon."
That's exactly what they did. The night would be kept in everybody's memory as one of the most joyous shindigs they'd ever been part of. Yet again and even more firmly the boundaries between cops and carnies fell with Patrick as the one connecting both worlds as the focal point. He tried not to take the center spot, but things did seem to revolve around him nonetheless, though more due to his effort to make everyone feel welcome than him playing the showman.
He partied like a fiend, looking completely carefree, though he refused to drink more than his initial glass of champagne, declining all other offers with a suggestive wink and the announcement that he had big plans for the night and needed to stay sober for it.
As it turned out he didn't need any alcohol to be the heart and soul of the party. He was drunken with happiness and as radiant as a supernova. And whenever he wasn't busy dancing (or kissing) with his future wife he went around and used his powers of observation and insight to make sure that everyone had a good time and more than once he managed to make people who'd normally not even dream about talking with each other engage in easy conversation.
Teresa watched her fiancé with growing pride. He really had a gift and the ability to bring the most unlikely people together and show everyone a good time. He could be so incredibly thoughtful and sweet sometimes, so generous and affectionate.
She took a moment to contemplate what a man like him could've accomplished in the world, had his childhood been different and the rest of his life taken another direction. But then she remembered that it had been all those past experiences that had formed the man she loved and that she would probably never have gotten to know him otherwise. And she wouldn't want him any other way.
After yet another one of those little scenes when Patrick had helped one of her nephews, her brother James' seven year old son Toby, to get up the nerve to go and ask Paul to show him some magic tricks instead of only eyeing him longingly, Teresa had to pull him into a corner and kiss him to pieces so hungrily that things nearly got out of hands.
"What was that for?" he asked breathlessly. "Not that I'm complaining."
She looked at him with pure affection. "Nothing. Just you being you," she said bashfully.
He smiled and raised his brow while his thumbs caressed her cheeks lightly. "Wow. Well, that's a first. Normally you rather curse me for that."
"Not that you," she replied a bit defiantly.
"I've different mes?" he inquired with a grin. "I hope that isn't your gently way of telling me I'm schizophrenic."
She got on her toes and pecked him on the nose. "Nope. Though you ARE nuts. But that's hardly worth mentioning. We have all known that for years." They both chuckled at the ambiguity of her statement. Quietly and earnestly she added, "I love to see you acting the way you do tonight. You're the perfect host and the perfect friend. I've never known anyone striving so incredible much to make sure everybody has a good time. It's delightful to watch. You are delightful to watch like this, Patrick."
As usual he looked bashful at her compliment and tried to brush aside her praise. "It's our engagement party. Of course I want people to have a good time. Share the happiness. I've received the most precious gift today after all. The least I can do is make sure people have a good time," he told her with a blush. "And besides, all it takes is some good food and lots of alcohol. The rest is just peanuts."
"Whatever you say, my love." She ruffled his curls with a fond smile. "I know you have a hard time taking honest praise like that with grace. But it's true nonetheless." She put her arms around him and pulled him close. Against his neck she said tenderly, "You're special, Patrick. You have a real gift and I love to watch you using it that way. I'm sure, you could make just about anyone reconcile with their worst enemy if you put your heart to it. You're so in tune with people and their moods and needs. And it's humbling and beautiful to watch you work your magic. I'm so glad, you're mine. I love you."
Still very embarrassed he murmured,"Love you too," only to press a short kiss to her forehead and disappear to sweep along his grandmother on the dance floor under her token protests and swirl her around until she was 'rescued' by her husband.
"I suggest, you save your exuberant energy for Teresa," grandpa Jane scolded him lightly after he'd made sure his slightly dizzy, but beaming wife was positioned securely on a chair. "Your granny isn't exactly twenty anymore."
"She looked like she needed some spinning around," Patrick replied merrily. "And as you, old man, most certainly couldn't provide that, I of course, being the thoughtful grandson that I am, stepped up to the task."
The oldest Jane shook his head and smiled indulgently at his relative. "It really warms my heart to see you so happy, Patrick." He squeezed his shoulder. "I hope, it'll stay that way."
Patrick pulled the surprised man into a spontaneous, one armed hug. "Thanks, grandpa. And I promise I won't abduct your wife again – unless she wants me to."
Jonathan mock groaned. "That's what I'm afraid of. Unfortunately she's just as crazy as you are."
"Yep. She's my role model after all," his thoroughly happy grandson answered. "And now I'll go and get her one of those delicious cocktails to recharge her batteries. She has to keep you on your toes after all." Patrick beamed at him and stepped over to the bar, just chuckling at his grandfather's fake huffing and puffing.
And it was in this cheerful manner the party continued. The entertainment going on was both varied and meaningful in that Patrick had obviously gone all out to invite people they'd crossed paths with during their shared years at the CBI. So apart from carnie friends and talented family members taking the stage, they'd also had some very special guest performances. It had nearly been overwhelming and Lisbon had felt like jumping from one emotional high to the next. At some point she'd had to ask her fiancé what the hell he'd do for their wedding to top this perfect engagement party, to which he'd just smiled fondly at her and replied that that was entirely up to her. For the time being he'd suggested, she should just enjoy herself - which she had, and tremendously so.
A chamber orchestra version of the Northern California Symphony Orchestra had amused them with a rendition of that same piece of music she'd overheard them playing with Patrick on the contrabass after he'd solved the case of the murder of the first violinist.
He'd also somehow gotten a hold of Willie Shubert just for her, who looked a lot better, happier, and had obviously started to play the sax for real again as his beautiful performance showed rather impressively. He'd really plucked her heartstrings.
Teresa knew that Patrick had visited Rosalind Harker at some point during his recovery and that they'd had a very long and intense conversation. She also knew that her fiancé had supported the blind woman in her wish to claim Jospeh Earl's body and to bury him as Roy Tagliaferro. She'd been incredibly proud of him for this act of selfless kindness and his greatness of mind. Still, how he'd convinced Rosalind Harker to come and play on the piano for them was a big miracle. But there she'd been and after a bit of awkwardness in the beginning, she'd obviously warmed up to being in the company of so many people and it had been amazing to see her smiling happily in the end. Talking with first Patrick and then with a bunch of other people had visibly done her a lot of good. That there'd been so many musicians had been a great advantage because she'd had something to talk with them about. She'd seemed especially taken with Elisa Jane who'd gone out of her way to help the blind woman along. Mary Jane had also gotten into the spirit of things and had managed to persuade Rosalind to play a four-handed piece with her on the piano.
One of the absolute highlights for Teresa however had been the appearance of one Archie Bloom, or rather Fee-Fee Nix. She'd sung "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" just like that night when Patrick had trusted his partner with the truth about that not-really-suicide case and its slightly illegal conclusion in order to make her happy again. They'd both been touched by the lyrics and the performance back then, even though she doubted her fiancé would ever admit it. This time she'd danced with Patrick to the song, entangled in a very close embrace, and they'd shared a deep kiss during the last verse. Yes, now the skies were definitely blue and the dreams that she'd only ever dared to dream had really come true.
)L(O)L(
After that dance Jane had also confessed to her that he'd tried to get a hold of Cyndi Lauper to sing "True Colors" for their second dance. But to his utter dismay she'd unfortunately already been booked to perform at some kind of TV-show wedding or something like that...
)L(O)L(
When things finally calmed down and people started to leave in the early hours of the morning, Walter Mashburn approached Patrick and Teresa to say his goodbyes. "Well, you two. It pains me to admit it, but today I've had to realize that I don't really know how to throw a real party. Though this whole establishment-," he waved his arms around to indicate the interior of The Fir Tree, "-is completely mundane of course, and the champagne was mediocre at best, I've not been this thoroughly entertained in years. And I even got the phone number of that contortionist, Eve Serpentine - The Lady Who Moves Like A Snake. Name's not particularly original, but I'm sure, she'll be a real treat. With a body like that - just imagine the possibilities." He winked suggestively.
He turned serious for once and continued, "Anyway, what I wanted to say is that I'm truly happy for the two of you." But that was about as much sincerity as he could muster and with another wink he added in Patrick's direction, "I'll even refrain from pointing out that I had her first, Rickyboy, 'cause I'm not petty like that, you know?" He poked Jane jokingly in the chest. "And sooner or later I'll at least have you working for me and not for our Teresa here anymore. How does two millions a year plus benefits sound? And a Porsche 918 Spyder as a little hansel?"
"Nope," Patrick replied with a smirk.
"Pity," Walter said with a shrug. "But it's not my last offer. I'll get you one of these days. You won't be able to resist me indefinitely. Every man has a price. I just have to figure out yours, Mr. Jane."
Patrick grinned smugly. "Oh, certainly. But mine's not venal for money, Mash. I've told you so before. Sorry, but you really don't have the right thing on offer. I'm already exactly where I wanna be. And though you might've been there first, I'll stay there permanently. I'm petty enough to point that out to you."
Teresa rolled her eyes. "Please, boys. Play nice, both of you." Casting them a stern look she continued to scold them lightly, "I'm sure, if we were still living in caves I'd be very flattered by two males waving around their clubs fighting each other over me but I dearly hope we're more civilized than that nowadays." Both men looked slightly sheepish and duly chastised. She grinned merrily at the sight that strongly reminded her of two five year old contrite rascals.
It wasn't the first time she'd noticed that those two shared quite a few traits and she had to admit to herself that those similarities were probably the very thing that had attracted her to the billionaire in the first place. After clearing her head of these somewhat disturbing thoughts she addressed Mashburn, "Walter? It was nice to see you again. I'm sorry, we didn't have the chance to talk much today, but as my dear fiancé seems to do business with you once in a while, I'm sure we'll be able to catch up at some other time. Or maybe we could get together for dinner or something?"
"I'd like that, my dear." He turned towards Jane. "Only with your permission, of course."
Patrick chuckled. "Even though I might've behaved a bit like a Neanderthal a minute ago – I can assure you that Teresa certainly doesn't need my permission to share a meal with whomever she wishes to."
"I'm glad to hear that," Lisbon teased her fiancé. "Not that it would've mattered either way, but it's nice to know we're on the same page."
"No prob, as long as you know which club to come home to," Patrick replied salaciously and leered at her as well for good measure. It earned him a death glare and a punch on his arm, though they ended up grinning at each other.
Walter laughed heartily at the scene. "Well, Teresa, I wish you the best of luck with that one. And I look forward to our dinner. But I guess it's best I leave now before our Patrick here gets out his club for real. Oh, and thanks for the party. See, I'm even trying to learn to be more polite." He bent forward and pecked Lisbon first on her left, then her right cheek, waved a final goodbye to Jane and left with a self-satisfied grin.
With Sam's and Harriet's permission Teresa and Patrick left with the rest of their guests. The pub owners waved away Jane's attempt to help with the clean up. "Our cleaning stuff will take care of that tomorrow. It's more than covered by the generous lump-sum you paid for tonight, Patrick. Don't worry – your guests were astonishingly well-behaved considering the number of carnies present and the amount of alcohol consumed. Seems to help to have a bunch of cops around after all…" Sam chuckled good-natured. He patted Jane's shoulder, bent forward and whispered something into his ear that made the blond man raise his brows and smirk.
"Oh, I will, Sammyboy. Don't expect a report though," was the consultant's ominous answer.
He put his arm around Teresa's waist and with a wink from him to Sam the newly engaged couple turned to the door accompanied by Harriet scolding the men.
"What was that all about?" Lisbon enquired curiously, while they made their way over to his car.
"Trust me – you really don't wanna know," her fiancé replied and held open the car door for her, gentlemanly as was his wont.
"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know, Jane," she insisted and rolled her eyes. "But this was probably answer enough. I bet it was something tasteless and sexist." She got into the passenger seat without protest, figuring that though she wasn't exactly drunk, she was definitely above the legal limit.
Patrick grinned while he got in at the driver's side. "Maybe, maybe not. I won't tell you. You've blushed so much already today after all. Wouldn't want to risk it becoming something permanent."
This earned him a slap on the arm as expected and the satisfaction of seeing her blush yet again. He started the car and got them on the road with a big, happy grin on his face. Lisbon couldn't help but grin as well. Nothing could ruin her mood tonight, certainly not some friendly teasing from the man she loved.
"It feels great." Jane broke the companionable silence.
"What feels great?" she inquired a little puzzled at his seeming non sequitur.
He cast a tender sideways glance at her. "Being engaged to you, of course. Makes me almost giddy just thinking about it."
Teresa couldn't help but smile. "Are you getting sappy again, Jane?"
"Yep. And if you don't stop me, next thing I'll recite Shakespeare sonnets bespeaking your eternal beauty and other virtues."
"Geez! I knew, some day it would bite me in the ass that I fell for a lunatic who's memorized the complete works of The Bard," she teased him.
"I dearly hope today is not that day, my dear," he replied, a tad more serious again.
Her hand found his thigh and caressed it. "Nope, no regrets so far. But then you haven't recited anything yet." She snickered.
"Don't tempt me, woman."
She continued her fondling and relished the feeling of utter contentment that had spread inside her the moment she'd really realized during their drive from the high-rise to the party that she'd said yes to this man and to marriage. To sharing her life with Patrick in this ultimate way. That incredible emotion had stayed with her ever since. Her eyes fell on the beautiful ring on her finger and her heart missed a beat at the sight for the umpteenth time that night.
To be honest it kind of confused her that this change in official status seemed to make a difference in her own perception though they'd been living together so intimately already for months now. She'd never imagined that she was someone who'd need a piece of paper to tell her how she felt and the thought of being bound to someone like that had rather scared her a bit. But now it felt only right in her whole being and she could fully empathize with Patrick's previous words about it feeling great.
"Did it feel like that the last time as well?" she asked him tentatively. "I mean, when you got engaged with Angela." She squeezed his thigh carefully. "Sorry, I hope, it doesn't make you uncomfortable to talk about it," she added in a hurry.
Patrick shook his head. "No, it's alright. I don't mind talking about it. I've made my peace with my past, Teresa. It's an important part of me and it's only right to share it with you. To answer your question: No, I don't remember it feeling quite like this. But then again, circumstances were very different back then."
"How so?" Lisbon inquired, her curiosity peaked now that he'd practically given her his go-ahead to ask for more information.
"I was young and stupid back then for one. Didn't cherish the good things in my life quite as much as I do today. And furthermore, well, the whole situation played out quite differently to put it mildly."
His utterly sheepish expression aroused her curiosity even more. "Come on, Jane. Details. You have me very intrigued. Don't tell me, you didn't manage to come up with anything at least slightly romantic."
Patrick snorted. "Romantic is not exactly the word I'd use."
"Spit it out, Jane. Please, I'm dying of curiosity here," she nagged him.
He looked totally embarrassed now. "I kind of wasn't the one who proposed," he finally admitted.
"What?" she exclaimed. "What happened to the whole 'I'm an old fashioned guy and I'll be the one to propose' thingy?" she asked in complete surprise.
"I wanted to do it properly at least this time around," he confessed meekly.
"So, how did it go with Angela? How and when did she ambush you with the big question? Now I really wanna know."
"Oh, the circumstances were romantic enough, I'd say. I'd had a rather successful gig in a bar the night before, had some extra money for once and surprised her with a home made candle light dinner when she came home from college. More like a picnic really, on a blanket on the floor of our one and only room, because we didn't have a dining table at that point." He paused.
"And? That sounds rather sweet so far. Did you plan to ask her that night?" Teresa chimed in.
"Ah, no. No such plans. Just a nice evening, nothing more. Anyway, we made out on the floor afterwards. And I told her how much I loved her, after we… Well you know." She snorted and motioned for him to go on. "I should've noticed, of course, that she looked at me, eyes big with expectation, but I was only happy, satisfied, contented. And then she suddenly jumped to her feet and glared at me."
Patrick's face showed his remembered amusement and fondness. It was tinged with a bit of sadness, but Teresa was happy to see that it didn't take over. "She glared?" she inquired with a bemused smile.
"Yep. Glared. Brown eyes spitting fire. Didn't happen often, but it was definitely scary."
"And that's when she dropped the big question?" Lisbon asked. "Sounds like the epitome of romance."
Patrick chuckled. "Yes, in a way. I think her exact words were: 'When the hell will you finally get your head out of your scrawny ass, grow a pair and ask me to marry you, Patrick Alexander Jane? I'm fed up with waiting!'"
Teresa couldn't help it. She succumbed to hysterical laughter and was soon joined by her fiancé. When they'd calmed down a bit – Patrick fortunately faster than her considering that he was the one driving – they'd almost reached their destination.
"Why didn't you?" she inquired carefully after wiping away the tears her merriment had elicited. "I mean, propose to her?"
He grew serious at her question. With a sigh he started to explain, "I simply didn't dare, Teresa. As you might have noticed, I have that tendency to, well, feel unworthy." She nodded and rolled her eyes. "That's not a recent development. She was practically carnie royalty and I was a mere side show act. The princess's jester, if you want. At the time I couldn't exactly offer her very much and I dreaded the moment she'd wake up and realize that she deserved so much better than me and would leave me without looking back."
"It's strange. I always imagined you as a self-assured, cocky bastard when you were young and before the whole Red John business. I mean, given what I now know about your childhood it's kind of logical that you couldn't possibly have been, but still. I had that picture of you in my mind," Teresa said gently.
"I'm glad to hear that my act to project that very image was so convincing." He grinned, but his smirk was soon replaced by a more serious expression. "There was a time in my life when I was totally assured of my own invincibility and terribly arrogant and flamboyant. Pretty much the way you have in mind, I'd guess." Teresa petted his thigh again, encouraging him to continue. The times he'd open up like that about that period of his life were still rare, though they'd both become a lot more forthcoming during the past months. She always honored those moments with great appreciation.
"The years leading up to that fateful TV-show a decade ago had been rather kind to me. I had the most beautiful wife I could imagine, I became a father and loved it, I was so proud of Charlotte. My business skyrocketed with the rich and famous seeking my advice and my company." He sighed ruefully. "I relished the feeling of playing them all, of those suckers eating out of my hand like that. Their awe and admiration of me – a mere carnie, they'd normally never even grant a second glance. And mostly I could appease my conscience with the mantra that I was selling them hope after all. And that I could finally provide Angela with what she deserved."
They had long since arrived at the parking lot in front of their apartment, but they both silently agreed to finish that particular conversation inside the car. They were facing each other and Lisbon's right hand cupped his left cheek tenderly. "I felt like a king," he admitted quietly. "Risen from the gutter to the top of the world. That's what made the fall so all-consuming and unbearable, I guess. Cut down to size again which was pretty much the size of a bug."
Teresa bent forward and connected their lips in a soft kiss. "You might not be a king, Patrick, but you're at least my prince charming," she whispered against his mouth.
"Fortunately I got my not so sleeping beauty after only a decade, not a whole hundred years," he answered, a contented smile gracing his lips. "And, to get back to the start of our conversation: now I know how to really cherish what I have. I love you, Teresa, and it feels great to be engaged to you." After a peck on her lips he added, "Shall we move this party to our home? I like this car but it seriously diminishes my chances to be really close to you."
She nodded her consent and they left Jane's legendary vehicle and made it to the front door.
Teresa was the one to open the door to their apartment. She stepped inside and gasped. Patrick almost collided with her back, but as he'd anticipated her moves – or rather lack of – he came to stand right behind her on the threshold to the living room. "Jane? Are there rose petals on the floor?" she asked warily, though the question seemed idiotic even to her own ears. It was pretty obvious both from the sight of it and the delicious flowery smell that permeated the whole apartment.
He chuckled into her ear and whispered, "Yes, my dear."
"What are dead flower parts doing on my carpet, mister?"
"Leading the way to the inner sanctum, Miss Lisbon," he purred. "Why don't you follow them? I'll be with you in a minute."
She turned around and poked him in the chest. "Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Jane?"
"Yes. Is it working?" he replied with a lopsided grin.
"It might. But rose petals? Seriously? Isn't that a bit sophomoric?" she teased.
He shrugged. "Well, I thought, after dropping the big question unceremoniously from the top of a skyscraper you deserve a bit of real cliché romance now." He smiled at her knowingly. "No chance to fool me, Teresa. You might not admit it, but I know that deep down you've always wished for someone to do something like that for you, even if it's completely cheesy." He chuckled at her deep blush. "No reason to be embarrassed, my dear. It's my greatest pleasure to fulfill your every desire."
She blushed even more. "I'd never want something so awfully sappy and girly, Jane. You must confuse me with someone else," she said defiantly, but her excited expression and the happy glint in her eyes gave her away.
He sighed dramatically. "Do you want me to go and fetch the vacuum cleaner and get rid of the waste littering the floor then?" he asked her teasingly.
She snorted and in a mocking tone she declared, "Ah, never mind. I guess, it can just as well stay until tomorrow now that it's already here anyway. No harm done. Wouldn't want you to waste all your energy on mundane household tasks, would we?"
"No, we certainly wouldn't," he replied and pulled her close, finding her lips with his own.
The kiss turned heated in no time. With satisfaction she sensed his rock hard desire for her pressing against her hip. She buried her hands in his hair and deepened the connection. His hands went to her butt and pulled her closer, grinding his hips against her. One of his hands slipped between her legs from behind and the light touch against her core even through several layers of clothing almost made her come on the spot, so aroused was she already. She panted into his mouth and they had to break the kiss and take a deep breath. "Oh god. I want you so much, Patrick," she groaned.
"Why don't you go ahead to the bedroom? I'll be with you right away," he said huskily.
"Why can't we go together?" she asked with a pout.
"Because I need to fetch something from the kitchen, my love. Won't take a minute, I promise."
"What could you possibly need from the kitchen?" she inquired, suspicion clouding her arousal.
He smirked. "Geez, don't you trust me at all, woman? I want to devour you and I thought we could make it a bit special, considering the occasion. And if you really must know: there'll be pink champagne on ice and strawberries and cream, so I can turn you into my very own red velvet cupcake. With a black cherry on top."
She moaned in anticipation. "Sounds delicious. Do I get to devour you too?"
"Oh, I wouldn't mind to be your cupcake tonight, Teresa."
"But it'll ruin the bedding no doubt. As long as you know that you'll be the one to clean the whole mess up afterwards, I'm game, Jane," she teased him.
He chuckled. "Won't be a problem. You'll find out that I'm always prepared, my little cupcake: I have that very well covered – literally. Though it's really a pity. I'd grown so used to you cleaning up my messes. Alas – all good things have to end at some point, I presume."
She acknowledged the double meaning of his statement with a nod of approval and made her way upstairs to the bedroom, following the path of rose petals with a giddy grin on her face. He'd formed a heart of petals on each step, the last three together read 'I love you'. He was right of course: she enjoyed his silly gesture immensely.
When she entered their bedroom she was greeted by heart shaped party lights. They were not red, but rather orange in color, which she appreciated because the room would've looked too much like a red light district otherwise. This way however they made up perfectly for the missing candle light, though she saw that her fiancé had set up candles as well all around the room. He'd even been circumspect enough to place them in sensible holders and secure spots, so they would be safe from an unwanted fire show in the heat of the moment. She had to grin at her own pun and went ahead, grabbed the box of matches she saw on the chest of drawers and lit the candles.
Stepping closer to the bed in the process she noticed what he'd meant by being prepared. It had been covered first with something that looked definitely waterproof. On top of that he'd spread an emerald green sheet, she'd never seen before. It felt deliciously soft and smooth to her probing fingers. She sighed, giddy with anticipation.
When she'd lit all the candles she decided to get rid of her clothes and subject the new sheet to some further testing. She'd just removed everything but her underwear and placed herself in the middle of the bed on the cushy fabric when Patrick entered, carrying a tray laden with the promised goods: berries, whipped cream and champagne. He'd even brought some chocolate sauce.
He came to a sudden halt when he saw her. His eyes caressed her bared skin. She loved the feeling it gave her. Of being the most desirable woman in the world. Of the power she held over this strong, independent, and utterly beautiful man.
With slightly shaky hands he put the tray down on the bedside table. "God, you're breathtaking, Teresa," he said huskily, eyes filled with admiration. "I've dreamt of that picture of you on that sheet ever since I bought it. I'm sorry to say that my mind didn't do you justice. You're absolutely stunning."
Patrick was very eager to join her and without taking his eyes off her, he started to remove his own clothes in a hurry.
"Stop!" she demanded and his hands, which had been frantically busy opening the many buttons of his vest and shirt, came to a halt amid movement. A puzzled expression overtook his handsome features. She smiled. "Slow down, Jane. I want to watch my gift being unwrapped piece by beautiful piece. As of today I've decided to keep it permanently after all."
Radiant would still be a euphemism if one wanted to describe his answering smile. "The champagne might get warm though," he warned, but the new showy flair with which he re-approached his task of unbuttoning was a sure sign, he'd every intention to obey.
"I'm sure, you can find a happy medium, honey. You can do the whole striptease routine for me another day," she suggested, her eyes firmly fixed on his upper body about to be revealed.
He'd kept his word. After his long hospital stay and enforced inactivity he'd both gained some weight and muscle again, helped along by his training sessions with Cho. His torso was in perfect shape or so she thought, an appreciative look in her eyes. "I know, it's a mistake to stroke your ego, but you're the most beautiful man I've ever seen," she said huskily. "I'll never get bored just looking at you."
To her delight he blushed and for once he seemed to be out of cocky remarks and smirks. "Thanks," he replied quietly and removed his belt. "I have at least to try not to fall too short in comparison to you, my love, or you'll replace me with a younger, better model."
He stepped out of his pants. "There could never be a better model," she answered warmly. "Younger – maybe, better – no way. And as I said: I remember telling you today that I plan to keep you for as long as possible."
Her eager eyes followed his every movement and her obvious admiration heightened his anticipation even more. His socks followed the rest of his outer clothing and Lisbon was treated to the sight of his delectable behind in the process.
Finally clad only in a pair of black silk boxers that barely hid his state of arousal, he stepped over to the night table that held the tray with the goods he'd brought from the kitchen. He poured a glass of champagne, the bubbles drifting through candlelight captured in the cold liquid.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leaned in for a soft kiss and then set the glass to her mouth for a long sip. She smiled into his eyes and smacked her lips as the fresh liquid bubbled across her tongue, licking her lips to clean what lingered there. His mouth was a soft 'o' of concentration as he watched her, stiffening in anticipation of what that mouth might do to him in a short while.
He helped her to another sip and put his lips to hers where the glass had just been. She opened her mouth and shared the bubbling liquid with him in a deep kiss. Sitting up again, he handed her the glass after he'd refreshed it, took a strawberry, dipped its tip into the chocolate sauce and brought it to her mouth. "Take a bite and a sip right afterwards," he proposed softly.
While she followed his suggestion with a happy moan at the exquisite explosion of tastes in her mouth, his lips and tongue were busy caressing her upper body, delighting in her natural flavor to which would soon be add.
His graceful hands slipped off her underwear, toying with the silk and the lace, running the edges across his fingertips as he caressed the skin that lay beneath, until she lay naked and ready for their sweet feast.
Drizzling chocolate sauce in a circle around each nipple and then into her navel, he dropped a trail of it across her belly and lower still, letting it soak to her skin and drip through her folds. She wiggled. "Ah! It's tickling, Patrick." But she smiled and issued a small sigh of pleasure.
He captured her nipples, erect from the tickling and suckled them, enjoying the combined flavor of Lisbon and chocolate there, sucking the brown treat in as gravity made it pool on his lips. He licked himself clean and then tongued it from her skin, raising the flesh in little bumps as she shifted her hips and groaned. He lingered a while at her sensitive navel, licking and sucking, until all the chocolate had found its way from her body into his mouth.
Patrick sought out her lips, parted in her pleasure, and they shared a deep, chocolaty kiss. Picking up another strawberry, he bit off its tip, then kissed his fiancé again, painting her lips with the juice and then offering her a bite. The juicy pressure of the berry's open flesh trailed red to her nipples, which he took time to stain thoroughly until she was gasping, pushing her breasts towards him for the relief of his mouth, which he was only too willing to give to her.
He took a finger of cream and put it into his own mouth, showing his tongue as he cleaned his finger and hummed satisfaction before dipping some for her the same way. She opened her mouth very wide to get the entire finger of cream and sucked it from his finger as it withdrew.
"Have another sip of champagne. Clear your palate," he said softly and stole a sip from her glass afterwards. Then he took the bowl with the strawberries and the one containing whipped cream as well as the chocolate sauce and placed them on the bed right beside her hip. "Spread your legs for me, my love," he ordered huskily.
She did as he'd asked and he crawled on all fours on the bed obviously on his way down to her spread legs, granting her a nice view of his behind again on the way. She couldn't restrain herself, took a hold of the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. He stopped for a moment, looked over his shoulder at her with a grin and she squeezed his cheeks. While he busied himself removing his shorts fully, one of her fingers traced the line between his cheeks down to his testes.
"Teresa-Ah," he groaned and forced himself to move again until he came to rest between her legs, rejoicing in her delighted giggle. "Now I'll turn you into my very own cupcake," he whispered huskily.
Taking a whole strawberry, he fit it at the soft mouth of her sex and used the stem to draw it back and forth, its tiny seeds awakening her most tender flesh. When he had brought her to completion, he spread her lips open and danced the berry's tip on hers, starting the build of passion anew, readying her for the next onslaught. Taking a large bite of the berry, he offered the rest to her, but she merely shook her head, her eyes dark and her sides heaving. He squeezed its juice onto her labia and ate its flesh.
He found the biggest strawberry in the bowl, removed the stem and pushed it gently into her core until it was almost fully buried inside of her. She screamed at the sensation of being filled by the berry, its slightly rough surface stimulating her already almost over-sensitized flesh. "You're gonna kill me," she panted and he chuckled, incredibly satisfied with her reaction.
With his hand he started to spoon cream on top of the half-hidden berry until it formed a nice topping, while she couldn't stop moaning at every new sensation he created. After making a show of cleaning his hand with his tongue, noticing with delight how her pupils dilated even more than they already were, he drizzled chocolate sauce on his piece of art and garnished it with a cherry on the very top, which he'd had hidden amongst the strawberries for just that purpose. "I wish, you could see yourself now," he said in a hoarse tone. "You're perfect and I can't wait to devour my cupcake. But first…"
He got up. "Don't move," he warned her strictly and went over to his discarded suit jacket, fishing his cell phone from its pocket. She was completely puzzled by his strange behavior until a flash of light illuminated the semi-darkness of the candlelit bedroom for a short moment.
She was a bit mortified at the thought of the absolutely inappropriate picture Patrick had just taken of her, but she had no time to linger at her embarrassment. He'd retaken his position between her legs at once and had started to lick off the cream hungrily, paying particular attention to her most sensitive spots, subtly distracting his future wife from the sense of shame he knew she'd be experiencing. But he had really wanted that picture and not just in his memory palace.
When he was sure she'd forgotten about her bashfulness and was only experiencing desire, he took up the cherry with his front teeth, got on all fours again with his arms beside her shoulders, until he was able to bend over her enough so he could share the cream and chocolate covered fruit with Teresa.
They kissed languidly for many minutes, even after the last vestiges of cherry flavor had long since left their mouths. His hands cupped her cheeks, hers were buried in his curls, their eyes locked, when they finally had to take a few deep breaths. "Get down there, remove that strawberry and replace it with something bigger," she demanded, still rather breathlessly. "I want to feel you inside of me, Patrick. I've been your cupcake long enough. I want to be your woman now."
He smiled and pecked her nose. "Don't worry. You'll always be my woman, Teresa. And I'd love to remove that strawberry. It happens to be lodged in a place that I enjoy licking and nibbling at."
After another deep kiss he went back to his task of devouring his cupcake. As promised he licked and nibbled as if she was the sweetest candy and to him she was, slowly diminishing the berry and coaxing another climax from her in the process.
By the time he'd finally eaten the whole strawberry and used his tongue to get every last piece of it out of her core, his own arousal had reached almost unbearable proportions and he was afraid he'd come the moment he entered her.
He took some deep, calming breaths, crawled up on the bed, retrieved the glass of champagne which Teresa had had the foresight to place on the night table before things had gotten too much out of hand and took a big gulp.
"Need a sec," Patrick explained huskily to his partner.
She smiled indulgently at him and caressed his flank, amusement shining from her eyes. Then she demanded a sip from the delicious beverage, before she treated his posterior to a resounding slap. "I want you inside of me now, mister," she ordered. "No more stalling."
"Aye, ma'am," he replied dutifully. With practiced ease he positioned himself on top of her and entered her without further ado and so quickly, she was sure, magic of some kind had to be involved.
They both groaned loudly, almost screaming at the sensation of being connected so intimately. He pushed into her forcefully, nailing her to the mattress without mercy. His panting and moaning never ceased. His lips were slightly parted, his whole face a mixture of concentration and abandonment, completely unguarded, the worry lines almost invisible, the light from the candles bathing his handsome features partly in gentle golden light, partly in a half-shadow, his eyes reflecting the orange gleam like a sunset in the ocean.
She came violently, mostly just from watching him – though the stimulation to her core did its part as well. But his almost transcendent beauty in this moment was overwhelming her senses more than anything.
"Love you," she groaned helplessly and forced her eyes to stay open, so she wouldn't miss out on the sight of her future husband finally succumbing to his own climax. She was rewarded for her efforts only seconds later. The raw ecstasy of that moment would stay with her for the rest of her life. A life she would share with him for as long as fate or god or whatever other force might be out there would grant her.
When Patrick had regained his breath, he summoned the last of his energy and got busy. He removed the protective sheets he'd covered their bed with, eliciting a delightful giggle from Teresa when he had to wrestled them out from underneath her. He managed in the end and with a warm smile he maneuvered them both under the covers, making sure to place her in their favorite sleeping position with her head resting on his chest. He caressed Teresa's cheek with the utmost tenderness. She turned up her head to look deep into his eyes and saw peace. He in turn took in her face and found pure happiness shining from it. He lifted his head a bit so he could peck her lips, took hold of her right hand and pressed a kiss on the new band adorning it, intertwined their fingers afterwards, and then they both got comfortable again.
'Now we finally have that Tyger off our tails,' was his last thought, before he fell into a deep sleep with his fiancé in his arms. The next day he would wake up again after eight hours of uninterrupted rest to the first day of the rest of their lives. But that's a different story.
The End
)T(H)E( )E(N)D(
I want to thank all my readers. You've obviously followed me all the way here and that's great! Thanks for your endurance. I hope, you enjoyed reading this arc as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's been a long process and it feels weird that it's suddenly over. Now I'll concentrate solely on finishing my doctoral thesis for a while and who knows - maybe I'll starting writing another Mentalist story afterwards - as Doctor Pellegrina ;-)
