Epilogue

Six months later.

"Look, Teresa! A crab!" Charlotte screamed, pointing into the water and almost deafening Lisbon. She grinned at the little girl dressed in a purple swimsuit and matching waterproof sandals and looked into the rock pool, her hand clutched tightly in Charlotte's small one.

She peered in closer. "I think there's a starfish in there too."

Excitedly, "Where?! Where?!"

Lisbon laughed and gestured to the orange starfish at the edge of the pool hiding under a rock.

"Yes!"

Charlotte released Lisbon's hand to take out her waterproof camera from the Frozen backpack Lisbon was holding for her in her free hand and lay front down on the sand to get a shot of more of the treasures they'd uncovered on their stroll along the beach. Her golden pigtails shook from side to side as she wriggled to get comfortable on her belly and take the best photographs.

Lisbon took up a position beside her, dressed in an aubergine T-shirt and white shorts. Sitting down, she stretched her legs out in front of her, wiggling her bare toes, and enjoyed the feel of the setting sun on her skin as sunset approached. She watched Charlotte's frown of concentration, her tongue protruding and settling over her top lip, and was reminded of the exact same look the blonde haired girl's father held when he focused on something too. Lisbon reflected on the past six months of her life and how much it had changed.

Her introduction to Charlotte had gone much easier than she had imagined it would. She'd met her the day after Jane had secured her affections at a lunch at his home. She'd brought a present of some art materials with her as he had mentioned Charlotte liked to sketch in a blatant attempt to get his daughter to like her from the get-go. Jane had shot her a knowing look when he'd opened the door to her and saw them, laughing softly as he pecked her lips.

"She'll see right through that bribe," he'd said with another laugh. He'd captured her lips again in the hallway when he noticed her nervousness and told her softly, "Just be yourself and she'll love you like I do in no time at all."

As usual, he'd been right.

Charlotte had obviously been told about the change in her father's relationship status and had acted a little shyly around her at first, noticeably trying to make a good first impression on the stranger in their midst herself. Jane looked so relaxed he was practically horizontal (or at least had seemed that way, later he'd told her he was more than a little nervous) and had eased any awkwardness with his well practiced and renowned charm.

His daughter hadn't stayed quiet for long and she soon became animated as lunch was served by his mother. She was delighted to be reacquainted with the cop from a few days before, and had asked her question upon question about her job and how many criminals she had put away, and if she had ever fired a gun and so on. Lisbon deduced that if she did decide a career in law enforcement was for her, she'd make quite an excellent interrogator, perhaps turning out even better than Cho.

She had a sense of the macabre that children that age often did and it wasn't the first time Lisbon had been asked the same questions and found it easy to rattle off her responses once she'd become more comfortable in her presence. Jane had steered the conversation away to less morbid everyday matters easily when his daughter prodded into darker dealings and his mother had fussed her way through the lunch to ensure it was a roaring success.

Her knowledge of her boyfriend, up until that point, had been in knowing him as a man and not a father. She knew he was a caring and wonderful one but seeing the evidence of it in front of her that day in how he looked at his daughter and how his face lit up every time she spoke had made her heart melt. And she could almost hear her ovaries cry out in response as much as she tried to hush them into silence.

Their first few months together had been spent in gradually incorporating their lives together, a balancing act not always achieved to Olympic standards but they managed to stay on the tightrope together and help each other when one of them lost their footing.

They knew they were on the right track when Charlotte insisted Lisbon read her a goodnight story one night and not her father or his mother.

Lisbon's job, so much at the forefront of her life for so long, was still important to her and she still worked too many hours according to Jane (she'd asked him once how many would be acceptable and he'd grumbled a garbled response – proof enough that no cutting of hours would probably ever be fully acceptable to him on the matter). But he'd never mentioned her quitting and had supported her long hours with assistance on some cases. She'd eventually managed to talk him into being a part-time consultant with the CBI and he would inevitably arrive bearing donuts and sporting a large grin on occasions just in time to save the day when the rest of the team were almost at their wits end.

On a more personal note, he also provided foot rubs (mandatory once a week sessions he'd explained as if they were signing a contract one evening) and mind-blowing sex. It wasn't a bad life at all, she smiled to herself, remembering their lovemaking the night before.

He still had his issues and so had she but they were working through them together and she knew to call or text him if she was going to be late if they'd made plans, knowing he'd sit and worry as the minutes ticked by. It was strange being suddenly accountable to another human being as she'd lived so long independently but it was worth any slight inconvenience it caused her when she knew it pacified him.

But work wasn't her whole life now and she looked forward to weekends and time away from the office. While she was trying to integrate into an established family unit, Jane also took time for just the two of them and had treated her to a plush night in an oceanfront hotel (this time, one that was not the size of a matchbox and had a beautiful vista from its adjoining terrace) after their second month anniversary. She'd complained about the cost he'd explained it was more like six months if they discarded their time apart. He surprised her at least once a month since with various other treats he knew she'd like. She had stopped fighting against his need for sometimes extravagant gestures, admitting defeat when she saw how much he enjoyed making them.

"Teresa, come on," Charlotte urged her, back on her feet again and placing the camera back into the backpack that sat beside Lisbon, bringing her out of her thoughts. She pointed a few feet away. "There's another pool over there."

Lisbon removed some sunscreen from the pack. "Okay, sweetie, but some more sunscreen first then we'll go."

After kneeling to apply it she kissed Charlotte's forehead, and smiled as she got to her feet, Charlotte's hand already outstretched for Lisbon to take again.

Jane meandered his way down the path towards the beach, his golden curls ruffling in the breeze. He scanned the horizon and smiled softly as he saw Lisbon and Charlotte walk hand in hand a short distance away.

His eyes strayed to his mother at the foot of grassy verge nearby, a book in her hands as she sat on a picnic blanket and a variety of Tupperware containers strewn around her in various states of depletion.

He quietly made his way up to her then bellowed behind her shoulder, "Beautiful day, mother, isn't it!"

"Holy mother of god, Patrick!" she screamed in surprise, inciting him to laugh as he sat down beside her. He opened a box containing a sandwich and bit into it heartily, still chuckling.

"I swear I think you're still ten years old sometimes," his mother admonished, resting a hand on her heart. She swatted his arm with the book.

"Ow!" he laughed. "Did you have to bring a hardback with you?"

She put the book down and poured him some tea from a flask. He looked at it, questioningly.

"It's all there is," she told him before he could complain.

He shrugged and took a sip. "Dear god," he muttered, casting the offending plastic beaker it came in a look of disgust.

"How'd it go?" Alison asked, ignoring his remarks about the tea as he threw the remnants of it across the sand.

He nodded, his gaze set on the two figures who'd stopped a little way up the beach.

"Good, all set. Start in the Fall."

"You sure about leaving the diner?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it was time I did something a little more taxing with my time. Charlotte's growing up. She doesn't need me so much so I have more of it on my hands nowadays. And working with Teresa has made me use my brain more, been nice, challenging."

At his tone became increasingly wistful his mother told him softly, "You're her father, she'll always need you."

He nodded sadly then smiled. "Yeah, you're right. I know. Just wish sometimes I could freeze time. She's growing up far too fast for my liking."

She laughed. "Don't we all? Wouldn't have the cellulite I have on my thighs now if we could."

He shook his head and chortled. "Thanks for putting that image into my head, mom." He ate another bite of sandwich and took his shoes off. "You and the rest of the Golden Girls are okay running it, aren't you? I can hire someone else if it's too much for you."

She cast him a stony gaze. "Will you stop calling me, Freda and Joyce that?"

He shot her a sideways look and grinned. "Come on, how could I not? It suits you. Three single and ...more mature ladies all friends and working together like that, bet it's like an episode of that show every day in there."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, you might want to take a look at the latest figures. We made a profit last month. And there were four of them in that show."

He turned to face her, surprised. "You made a profit? How'd that happen?"

"Because we so-called 'Golden Girls' as you insist on calling us actually make what people order and are polite to our customers."

"Meh," he smiled. "Bet you still dress them, though."

She stammered, "W-well, there's no point in good clothing going to waste, is there?"

"So how much was it?"

"Hmm?" Alison said, picking up her book again with pursed lips.

He grinned. "The profit, how much did we make?"

She licked her lips and his grin widened. "Wow, a whole ten dollars, huh?"

She pretended to hit him with the book again and he moved out of the way to avoid it with a hearty laugh. She chuckled, "Twenty, actually, but it's still better than you ever did."

"Fair point," he agreed.

She laughed, "I don't know how Teresa puts up with you, that girl must be a saint."

"She has been called that in the past," he smiled, settling himself on his elbows as he watched the waves roll in and out. A few moments passed in silence. Softly, "I never imagined being this happy again."

His mother ruffled his hair. "I never imagined it either when I saw you again that first time."

He sighed. "I was quite the mess. Couldn't believe it when I opened the door and there you were."

She shook her head. "Wish I'd come back sooner."

Quietly, "Why didn't you?"

"I-I thought you were happy. Heard you were married and a real success. I mean, it wasn't the career I'd have wanted for you but...but I hardly had a right to tell you that, did I? I had no right interfering after missing out on so much but...but when I heard about Angela...I couldn't just stand in the shadows any longer. I had to find you. Lucky I was able to track down Sam and Pete to get your address."

"Guilt," he nodded. "Seems to be a trait in us Janes," he said softly.

"Yeah, it does," she confirmed with a deep sigh of her own.

"I'd never have got through those first months without you," he said in a whisper. "I...I can never repay you for that, you know. And I don't know if I'd finally been able to make a go of it with Teresa without you either. I know she's struggled sometimes, adapting to all of us and that you've made it easier for her. And for Charlotte too."

At the sound of his mother's sniffles, he smiled and removed a white handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. She blew her nose loudly and he laughed. "Talk about spoiling a sweet moment."

She laughed and blew her nose again. "Sorry. My life was just as empty, you know. You and Charlotte made me see what was missing in mine and what was important."

He gazed at Lisbon, her laugh in the distance as she and Charlotte splashed each other in the sea. "Family," he said. "Even if it's a dysfunctional one, at times."

His mother followed his gaze. "She's part of that too now. It doesn't scare you anymore, though, does it? Having someone again?"

He shook his head. "Less so. And infinitely better than not having her at all."

"Then maybe you should ask her the question on your mind."

He turned his head quickly and frowned at her.

She raised an eyebrow. "You think I didn't learn a tell or two in my time, young man? You've been twisting your fingers around that wedding ring finger of yours since we mentioned her."

He looked at his hands, exactly in the position she stated. "Damn," he said.

Jane put his reading material down when Lisbon entered his bedroom. "She asleep?"

She nodded and smiled as she sat at the dressing table and removed her cross necklace. "Out cold. Sea air does that."

She turned around to him. "You don't mind, do you, her asking me to read her bedtime stories sometimes?"

He smiled. "Of course not." He began to read the brochure in his hands again, still wearing a smile. "Besides, you're better at those duck noises than I am."

She stopped unbuttoning her blouse and looked at him with horror in the mirror facing her. "Tell me you didn't hear me make those silly voices in there."

He raised an eyebrow at her, his smile widening.

"Oh, god," she said, shaking her head. "You better not tell my team about that next time you decide to pop into the office."

"Hmm. That's an interesting idea. Wonder how they would feel about their fearless leader sounding like Daffy Duck. I could even record it for them as I doubt they'd believe me..."

She threw a pack of makeup wipes at his head and he laughed as he caught them one-handed.

He placed them on the nightstand with a chuckle then noticed her posture was tight. "I was only kidding about recording it, Teresa, or telling them," he frowned.

Distracted, "No, no I know that, Patrick."

"Something else the matter?"

She shook her head. "No, not at all."

He furrowed his brow as he watched her continue to undress. "So, any decisions made on your Major yet?" she asked brightly, nodding to the college brochure in his hands.

"Not really, not yet."

"Guess it depends on the score you get on your SATs. And you getting your High School Diploma. Can't believe you never went there, still."

He continued reading and muttered, "Hmm. I was far too busy conning people for a living. And you really think I won't perform well in those standardised tests. Please."

She laughed at his assurance. "I wish I had a strong argument to tell you not to be so cocky but I don't. I know you'll do great."

"Meh," he said with a smile, turning a page.

He hadn't expected ever to go to College. But he'd gone with Lisbon to Sacramento State University on a case a few months prior and he'd picked up a brochure there on a whim. That was when he'd told her he never had much of a formal education. The fact he never had somehow spiralled and wormed its way into his brain as a concern.

He knew he was clever – the smartest man in the room, he'd always said to people. He wondered if he perhaps stated that with so much bravado to make up for the fact that he never even graduated High School. His thoughts had turned to his daughter and what she would make of the fact he'd never really been to school when he'd made sure she had the best education money could offer and would continue to do so. In his heart, he knew it wouldn't matter to her, not really, that she would love him for who he was to her and not base it upon some degree he might achieve.

But the mere fact she might look down on him, even for a second, when she graduated herself in years to come had filled him with dread. But it wasn't just that inciting him to change direction in his life. He was thinking again as he worked with Lisbon and was inspired to learn more and more due to it. Catching criminals had made him feel good about himself too, making up for some of the misdeeds of his past. It was something that would make his daughter proud too.

For the first time in years his brain was being taxed and challenged and he loved every moment of it. Of course, Lisbon had offered him a full-time position at the CBI, the bosses there were more than enthusiastic about it considering the upturn in recent case closures, despite their personal relationship. He'd considered it but had refused politely, stating part time and ad hoc suited him better. The truth was that he was too afraid of unsettling the status quo in their personal life to spend more time there and was worried he may grow too overprotective if he watched her put herself in the line of fire. Out of sight was sometimes better even if he sometimes troubled with keeping it out of mind. Also, staring at dead bodies day in and day out didn't hold much appeal to him.

So he'd decided on College as a way of evaluating where his future career path might lie. And, even after he finished it and still was no further along, he'd have learned some stuff along the way about what he didn't want to pursue, at least. And maybe make his daughter a little more proud of him at the same time.

Lisbon finished getting ready for bed, slid in beside him and kissed him. He put the book down momentarily to deepen it.

"You've really no idea what you want to study?" she asked as he weaved a hand around her shoulders.

"English, I thought, maybe. But Environmental Studies looks interesting too," he said, placing the book on the floor beside him and snuggling under the covers, pulling her head towards his chest so he could wrap his arms around her.

"Not many jobs around with those choices," she said, ever the realist.

He chuckled, "Then there's also post grad, teaching, lecturing."

She nodded. "You'd be good at that."

"We'll see." He kissed her head and sighed happily. This was his favourite time of the day. In bed with the woman he loved and his daughter content and asleep right next door. "Now, you want to tell me what's troubling you or am I going to have to tickle it out of you?"

"Huh?"

"Wow, you really are the worst liar. When you were getting ready for bed you were distracted by something."

He shifted the fingers of his right hand to her side and under the T-shirt she wore. "Last chance," he smiled, grazing them slightly across her ribcage. She flinched immediately.

She swatted his hand away. "It's nothing."

He cleared his throat. "I see, this is going to have to be a coordinated attack, is it?" He rubbed his hands together in readiness.

"Okay!" she said before he got started. He'd once tickled her so badly she'd almost kicked him out of the bed. He'd just managed to protect his privates in time.

She moved across towards her side of the bed to look at him. Her pensive face made him nod slowly. "Whatever it is we'll work through it like we promised."

She smiled. "Yeah...it's...it's nothing bad. Or, at least, I don't think it's something bad."

"O-kay," he replied slowly.

She expelled a calming breath. "Charlotte called me 'mommy' earlier."

Jane blinked quickly. "Oh."

She shook her head. "I-I don't think it was intentional, Patrick. She was almost asleep so...so it was just because of that, I'm assuming. You know, she wasn't thinking and it just came out."

When he saw the panic in her features he caressed her cheek. "Hey, it's okay."

"I-I'd never tell her to call me that, you know that, right?"

"Of course, I do." He sighed and licked his lips as he pondered for a few moments. "I doubt it was accidental," he finally decided.

"What?"

He smiled. "I know my daughter, Teresa. She was trying it out, see how you would react. How did you, by the way?"

"I was just stroking her hair, you know to get her to sleep when she said it. I-I just continued doing it and told her to go to sleep, kissed her forehead like I always do."

He teared up. He loved how caring and patient she was with Charlotte, still sometimes surprised at the difference to the persona she wore at work. If he hadn't already been in love with her, he would have fallen hook line and sinker with the tenderness she displayed for his daughter.

"Should I have told her not to call me that?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Do you want her not to call you that?"

"Well, no...I mean...I don't know, Patrick. What do you want, she's your daughter?"

"I think we need to talk to her about it, just...just-"

"So she remembers Angela. Absolutely, I agree."

"But maybe it's not a bad idea for her to call you that. If you're okay with it. Or call you 'mom' and call Angela 'mommy'. Or vice versa, you know, something along those lines to make a distinction so she doesn't forget her...too much."

He swallowed thickly. Sometimes the guilt of him moving on with his life still hit him, usually when he least expected it like it had now. He recovered, "Or, I can tell her not to call you that if it makes you uncomfortable. For the time being."

She thought for a long moment. "It-It felt nice to be called that, actually," she said quietly.

He beamed a teary smile back at her. "Okay, option one it is, then."

"Wow," she said a second later. "That's...that was quite a moment."

He laughed and wiped a stray tear. "No kidding."

They kissed, a silent pact made. "I love you," she whispered as they embraced.

Those words sent shivers up his spine as they did the first time she'd uttered them a few months back. "I love you too."

He thought of his mother's words earlier. He had no idea his thoughts were turning to marriage again until she'd called him out on it. Now she had his brain couldn't stop thinking about it. Maybe it was too soon just yet to ask the question but the pieces of his life were falling perfectly into place for him to ask it sooner rather than later. By Christmas Eve Teresa and he would know each other a year. Maybe by then it would be time.

He thought back to that first meeting and how she'd looked when she first walked through his door, bedraggled and drenched from the rain.

He'd never believed in fate or karma, none of that.

But Teresa Lisbon had come into his life when he had least expected or even had wanted it, the result of bad weather and Christmas overcrowding.

When they hadn't been able to make it work the first time around through an equally surprising if horrific act of fate, she'd re-entered it again in even more of an astonishing fashion.

Their rekindled relationship had been different, more honest and more real between them, less to do with rainbows and unicorns in some fantastical romantic universe and more to do with two adults letting their guards down openly. It was more about appreciating each other for who they were and, more importantly, who they intended and wanted to be for each other during any hard times that might arise in the future. Maybe they were always supposed to fall at the first hurdle so they could pick each other up and cross the remaining ones together. If he had been someone who believed in god or some type of omniscient being he'd find it hard not to believe the universe hadn't always intended for their paths to cross again and again until they'd finally reached where they were now.

As he turned off the light beside them and Lisbon lay her head on his chest a last thought occurred to him before he closed his eyes, his arms around her.

Perhaps there was such a thing as serendipity, after all.

- THE END -

A/N: You may wish to have a salty snack now to counteract the sweetness contained in the epilogue.

More seriously, thanks to all of you who have stuck with this story, you really have no idea how much I appreciate that with your reviews, your PMs and your positive thoughts on Twitter. It was a rough ride for me to get through the last few chapters and probably would not have without your kind words of support.

I'll be heading back to my more angsty romantic plot driven roots with an update for Broken coming up next. Thanks again.