a/n - another month later—sorry guys. i really only seem to have a splash of motivation once every month.
i should also apologize for what's going to go down in this chapter, because...well, you'll find out when you read.
"I really appreciate this, you guys," Teresa gives her best friends a grateful smile as they walk in, three bubbly kids giggling at their heels.
Grace pulls the shorter woman in for a hug, as if sensing she desperately needs it. "Of course, Reese. You know we'll always be here for you."
"Yeah," Wayne pipes up, a four year old tugging at his pant-leg. "We're more than happy to babysit Theo whenever you need."
"Thank you," Teresa sighs. "I know you guys are busy. I just really need a night with Patrick, just the two of us. I promise I'll babysit the little ones whenever you want after tonight."
Grace rolls her eyes and swats Teresa on the arm. "Don't even mention it. We love seeing Theo. Speaking of, where is that little bugger?"
As if hearing his name from upstairs, Theo comes running in his dinosaur pajamas. His eyes gleam with joy as soon as he sees Grace. "Aunt Grace!"
The red-head throws her arms out for Theo to jump into. "Hey, bugger! How've you been?"
"Good! Mama's going on a date with Patrick."
Grace casts a knowing look to Teresa, who simply shrugs and ducks her head to conceal her blush.
"She is, huh?" Grace ruffles Theo's hair and stands up straight. "Do you like Patrick?"
Theo nods eagerly. "He's fun. He plays cars with me."
"That's great, bugger."
He runs off to play with the other kids who are busy climbing on Wayne. Grace turns back to Teresa, a genuine smile tickling her lips.
Teresa chuckles sheepishly. "What?"
"Theo likes him. He must be a good man."
"He is," Teresa admits. "He's perfect."
"Look at you," Grace grins. "You're shooting hearts from your eyes."
Teresa scoffs. "I am not."
"You so are."
Before she can deny the obvious truth once again, the doorbell chimes and she hurries to answer the door, the breath being knocked from her lungs as soon as she lays eyes on an unfairly gorgeous Patrick Jane.
Every time she sees him she can hardly believe her eyes, can hardly believe he's really hers. It seems way too good to be true. Someone as perfect as him should be with a woman who shines just as bright as him, not someone who pales in comparison like her.
But he apparently seems to think she hung the moon because the look he's giving her is nothing short of lust and admiration. His eyes rake over her, drinking in her little black dress and the ivory skin that's being exposed.
His study of her body is halted by the clearing of her throat. His eyes shoot up to hers and he smiles, purely innocent. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," she smirks. "You look handsome."
"Shall we go?"
"Give me one second." She shuts the door and returns to the living room, finding Theo playing with his superhero action figures on the carpet with one of the toddlers. "Theo, I'm going now. I'll probably be back by the time you're asleep, but I'll see you first thing in the morning, alright?"
"Kay, mama."
She bends at the waist to give him a kiss on the head. "I love you."
"I love you too."
With one last thanks to Grace and Wayne she slips out the door, shutting it softly behind her. She gasps as Patrick pulls her in for a searing kiss, stealing all the air from her lungs for a second time.
He wrenches his lips from hers and smiles apologetically. "Sorry. I couldn't help myself."
"Apparently," she muses. His eyes are already swallowed by blackness and the sight makes her knees buckle.
"You have no idea how badly I want to rip that dress off of you and see what lies beneath it."
Her eyes widen at his sudden confession. Heat pools between her legs while he simply ushers her to his car, unfazed by his own words.
She pulls herself together once she's seated in the car, crossing one leg over the other. "Since when did you become so crude?"
Beside her, he shoots her a flirtatious smile. "Perhaps you're the only one who can bring it out of me."
Deciding to play along, she says, "and you've kept this side of you a secret for so long? I should've realized Patrick Jane was filthy."
"Well, y'know, I've got that boyish charm and all," he replies with an innocent shrug. The gesture makes her crack a wide smile.
Her eyes start to trace his features, from his crinkled eyes to his stubbled jaw. Her heart skips a beat, something it's been doing more and more of every time he's in her proximity.
"So where are we going, charmer?" She asks.
"I was thinking we could go to dinner, take a nice stroll in the park after, and see where the evening takes us." He glances at her with a sheepish smile, making him look ten years younger. "How does that sound?"
Her smile grows so big that her cheeks start to ache. "It sounds perfect."
"Wonderful." His hand searches for hers and once he finds it he grasps it and doesn't let go for the rest of the drive.
XxX
She has no idea how Patrick keeps finding these immaculate restaurants, but she certainly isn't complaining as he takes her hand and leads them to the table the hostess has picked out for them.
"Patrick, this is amazing and everything, but jeez, the drinks themselves must cost a fortune." Her eyes skim over the menu after being handed one and sure enough, she's right. The drinks are expensive.
He doesn't seem to share her opinion, though, because he simply shrugs indifferently. "It's no issue with me."
"But— "
"Teresa," he interrupts her, his tone gentle enough that it effectively makes her shut up. "You deserve nothing but the best, and I enjoy spoiling you. Don't think about money. Just let me do this for you."
His pleading gaze hinders her from arguing and instead she nods softly. "Okay. Thank you."
He grins. "Of course. Now, order what you want."
Two minutes later a waiter approaches their table, his seasoned smile directed to Teresa. Patrick assesses him with a frown, depicting him as a divorced man who likes to run through women like pages of a book.
"Hello, I'm Tom and I'll be your waiter for this evening. What can I get you started to drink?" He doesn't take his eyes off Teresa and Patrick grunts, trying to catch the attention of the man but failing.
Teresa, who seems to be remarkably oblivious to Tom's obvious attraction, smiles up politely. "I'll have the Old Fashioned Cocktail, please."
Tom smirks. "Excellent choice." Then, almost begrudgingly, he turns to Patrick. It seems as if he had noticed him before, he just chose to ignore his presence. "And for you?"
His tone is much less pleasant, Patrick notes. But he doesn't call him out on it. He just answers with, "Just a water will be fine. I'm driving, so no alcohol."
Tom nods. "Your drinks will be out shortly."
As he plods away, Patrick dips his gaze to the menu, but the words to come out of his mouth are meant for the woman seated across from him. "He fancies you."
Teresa gapes at him, as if the idea itself is simply absurd. "What? No, he doesn't."
"He does," he insists. "He couldn't take his eyes off you. Not that I blame him. If I were him I wouldn't be able to look away from you either."
She hides her blush behind her menu. "Now you're just being a flirt."
"How else am I going to keep you from running off to Tom?"
She snorts. "Please. Like I'm ever going to leave you for someone else. Especially a random stranger."
"You could," he says softly, his insecurities creeping up on him like an incoming avalanche.
"But I won't," she replies, covering his hand with hers. "I want you. Only you."
Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he brings her hand up to his lips. "How is it that a beautiful soul like you exists?"
"I could ask the same about you."
A sudden cough ruins the moment and Patrick irritably looks up to find Tom grimacing at them with their drinks in hand. He sets them down and when he speaks, all traces of politeness are gone. "Are you two ready to order?"
Patrick shoots Teresa a look saying I-told-you-so before nodding at the waiter. "I think we are."
XxX
"The world is so beautiful at night," Teresa sighs aloud, gazing in awe up at the pitch-black sky that was sprinkled with twinkling stars.
"It is," Patrick agrees with a dip of his chin. The world is beautiful at night, but it doesn't hold a candle to the woman beside him. Under the moonlight his eyes trace over her face, memorizing all the freckles that remind him of the stars above.
They'd left the restaurant ten minutes earlier and now they were strolling through the park, the brightness of the moon and stars being the only source of light to guide them. His eyes suddenly drop from her face to her arms wrapping around herself as if to warm the chill overtaking her.
He immediately shrugs off his coat and splays it over her shoulders. Her eyes catch his and she rewards him with a dazzling smile, one he feels in the deepest trenches of his body.
This woman is unlike anyone he's ever known.
"You know," he starts, his fingers interlocking with hers, "after all that's happened in my life, I never expected to be happy again."
She looks at him but doesn't reply. She knows he has more to say, so she gently squeezes his hand as a gesture of affection, letting him know that she's listening.
He inhales deeply, exhaling his breath into the air around them. "I've always blamed myself for their deaths. I never let myself move on because I felt like I didn't deserve it. I felt that if I moved on, I'd be forgetting them, as if their lives meant nothing. I thought that I deserved to spend the rest of my life miserable because I took their lives away. I didn't deserve to live out my life being happy when they never got that chance.
"But then you," he fixes her with a stare full of warmth and her heart swells in her chest. "You came along. Just showed up on the side of the road. And I stopped."
He breathes out a laugh, stopping in his tracks to rub a hand over his jaw. "You have no idea how happy I am that I stopped that night. If I hadn't, and someone else would've snatched you and Theo up...I don't even want to think about it."
Her cheeks flush with heat at his words. "I'm happy you stopped that night too."
"I've never been a man that believes in fate," he confesses, dropping his stare to the gravel beneath his feet. "I don't even believe in God, to be truthful. I'd been a believer once, before...well, before everything, but my faith soon left me after their deaths. But, when I look at you, I think that maybe you were sent to me by a God, if there is one. That perhaps you're made for me. Made to heal me. Like my very own guardian angel."
He looks back up and smiles at her sheepishly. "You've saved me, Teresa. You don't think so, but you did. Because without you I'd still be the broken man I was before. But now I'm happy. So incredibly happy that you and Theo came into my life and changed it for the better. So happy that I can tell you I love you and mean it wholeheartedly. Because I do. I love you more than I expected to."
She's never really been a crier, but his speech causes a lonely tear to escape her eye and slip down her cheek. This man makes her feel things she never thought were possible. He makes her feel like the only girl in the world, and God, it feels good to be looked at the way he's looking at her now.
Like she hung the moon.
Because, in his eyes, she had.
"I love you so much, Teresa," he finishes, pulling her into his warm embrace and resting his chin on top of her head. He inhales her vanilla scent and closes his eyes. "You and Theo mean everything to me."
She opens her mouth to say something, to tell him that she loves him too, but before the words can spill out a sound of a gunshot breaks out and suddenly she's screaming.
She screams as her eyes dart around, searching for whoever it was that shot a gun, but she can't see anyone in the darkness. Her heart races so fast she feels like it's going to run out of her chest. Her ears ring. Her skin glistens with sweat. Her mind whirls. And no one is around but her and Patrick.
Patrick.
She jolts herself back into the present and her body starts to shake once she realizes that she's no longer in the cage of his arms. She grasps at her chest as she wills herself to look down, not wanting to see what she knows is inevitable.
Patrick, her Patrick, lays on the ground, clutching his abdomen for dear life. A whimper escapes her when she sees the blood seeping through his fingers.
She falls to her knees as a sob breaks through her throat, scrambling to put pressure on the wound as her eyes find his face. He grunts in pain, his typically-golden face now pale and withered.
"No, no, no," she whispers to him and herself, pressing onto his abdomen to try and get the bleeding to stop. Her own hands are wet with his blood and bile rises in her throat, threatening to spill from her lips and all over the ground.
With one hand shaking, she fumbles for her phone and dials nine-one-one. Patrick moans as she speaks, tears falling from her eyes at the sight of him all bloody and possibly dying.
He can't die. He can't.
She won't let him.
"Please hurry," she begs into the phone, her eyes still locked on the man bleeding out in front of her. "Please."
She thinks she hears the dispatcher say something about sending an ambulance, but she's too focused on not letting Patrick die to be sure. His eyes are blinking and he isn't spitting blood, so she figures that's a good sign, but it still doesn't calm her nerves.
"There's an ambulance on its way," she tells him, voice shaking with a bitten sob. "Just stay with me, alright? Stay with me. You're gonna be okay."
He tries to smile and winces in agony. That only makes her cry harder.
"I'm okay," he struggles to get the words out, wincing with every intake of breath. "I'm okay. Just gonna shut my eyes for a bit. Just for a bit."
"No," she sniffs, a tear leaking from her eye and splattering onto his shirt that's now stained with blood. "No, don't shut your eyes. Keep them open. Please, Patrick. Keep them open. The ambulance should be here soon."
But he doesn't listen, and his eyes flutter shut. She can hear the blaring sirens in the distance but all she cares about is getting him to wake up.
"No, Jane," she shakes her head violently, refusing to believe this is happening. That this is just a nightmare she'll soon wake up from and he'll be in bed with her, arm thrown around her waist and face nuzzled into her neck.
Because he can't be dead.
She can't lose him. Not now. Not ever.
And as the paramedics lift him onto a stretcher and guide him into an ambulance, she pushes her way inside and sits beside him, fingers clutching onto her crucifix necklace as she prays for God to keep him alive.