Spoilers/Timeline: None/Set in the future

A/N: Blame this on the fact that I'm over the warm weather and am actually enjoying the cooler temps here in PA. Or maybe it's just that I needed to challenge myself with what seemed to be an impossible scenario given the California setting. In any case, enjoy. Oh, and huge thanks to nicolemack for the last minute save and keeping me from completely losing it.

Disclaimer: The Mentalist doesn't belong to me; Title from Amy Grant's Til the Season Comes Round Again.

Stretching, she pulled her sweatshirt tightly around her and yawned. It had been a long three days in the mountains of Lake Tahoe, a kidnapped Senator's daughter leading to a full blown murder investigation. Her team had barely stopped for two hours the whole time, working in shifts, flushing out every angle of investigation.

Just thinking about it made her even more tired.

She was proud though, the brisk almost wintery conditions of the ski resort could have impeded their progress, made it easy to blame the weather for not heeding to every political pressure. Instead, they'd redoubled their efforts and flushed out the killer/kidnapper in an almost record amount of time.

She had a suspicion this was partly because her consultant desperately wanted to have an hour or two before sunset to walk in the snow, to check out the hot tub.

How she'd avoided getting sucked into a snowball fight with him, she wasn't entirely sure.

Grinning, she glanced to the windows behind the fireplace in the large, cozy lobby. She should probably head up to their room and finish packing. That way they wouldn't have to rush around in the morning like they had the day before, tripping over shoes and discarded clothes as they fumbled to pack the necessities for an unknown amount of days away.

She couldn't bring herself to move though. The crackling fire warmed her still damp feet, the comfy couch pulling her closer and closer towards sleep. Plus, there was some part of her that didn't want to go back to their room without Jane. She wasn't codependent by any means, but over the past year she'd grown to enjoy their banter, the easy comfort that came from having him next to her.

Especially at night.

Light flakes continued to dance past the windows in the bright glow of the moon and she leaned back, tracking their whimsical path. The door banged opened and she turned, laughing at her wayward consultant and partner (boyfriend still sounded too childish to her and they'd yet to settle on a label they could both agree on. The time he'd introduced her as his paramour still made her blush months later).

He wore a pair of hiking boots in place of his usual worn brown shoes, a tight pair of jeans, and the largest, most poofy jacket she'd ever seen. Drops of water collected on his shoulders where snow had melted, some flakes still clung to the ends of the long scarf wrapped around his neck.

Smirking, he unwound the black cashmere, shaking the the lingering snow over her head. Her eyes narrowed, arms crossed over her chest as he flung his coat over the empty armchair before settling next to her.

The snow settled in her eyelashes, the light from the fire danced across her pale skin, and he couldn't resist.

Even glaring at him, she looked stunning.

His lips pressed lightly to hers and he sighed as she intensified the kiss, her tongue sweeping into his mouth as her arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer. Groaning, he broke away, the corner of his mouth lifting.

"I'm beginning to think being irritated turns you on, Agent Lisbon."

"Mmm, maybe it was the Abominable Snowman appearance." She pushed off his chest, turning so that he was sitting behind her, his legs bracketing hers.

"Yeah? You like it a little dirty?" He smiled against her shoulder, his hands pressing into the small of her back.

"I think you... oh..." Breathing deeply, she leaned back into his touch, her eyes closing as he began to massage all the sore spots she didn't know she had. "You know the answer to that."

"That I do." His hands skimmed up her sides, cupping her shoulders. "Just like I know you hate when I hum while making tea in the morning, love padding around in my sweatshirt after work, and, oh, yes, that you're afraid of heights." Thumbs circling over the nape of her neck, he leaned closer, his voice low in her ear. "If you'd have gripped the handle on the ski lift any harder I think you may have broken a couple fingers."

"That sounds pretty extreme. Besides..." Her fingers flexed against his thigh as his hands slipped under her shirt, working a particularly large spot of tension between her shoulders and warming her skin. "I managed to keep it under control, unlike you. I didn't know slalom gates were so scary."

He gasped in mock shock, fingers drifting down her spine. "When they sneak up on you and abscond with your jacket..."

"Well, you wouldn't have got caught if you hadn't insisted on wearing your vest and coat under that monstrosity." She gestured to the large jacket he'd shrugged off earlier.

"That makes no sense, woman. If anything, the extra layers kept me warm when I fell." Smiling, he thought back to how she'd rushed to his side to make sure he was ok before turning back to the crime scene to issue orders to the rest of the team.

Always focused, his Lisbon.

"Whatever." She gasped, the tension (heat, desire, love) coiling low in her belly increasing as his breath fanned over her neck. "You were in the snow shrieking about misplaced equipment and rolling to the bottom of the slope, possibly—"

"I do not shriek." He scooted forward, his chin resting against her shoulder. "At any rate, I never did understand the appeal of strapping toothpicks to your feet and flinging yourself downhill."

"This from the man who once drove blindfolded."

"At least I wouldn't have died of frostbite the—"

His words died on his lips as she turned in his arms, covering his mouth with hers. One of his hands slid up her back, holding her to him, as their legs tangled, tongues dueled. Her teeth scraped across his jaw, her fingers threading through his curls as she pressed her hips to his and kissed him once more.

Hungrily.

Her tongue stroked over his and she moaned, her breath catching as he tapped a soft rhythm against her hip. The sound of the doors opening forced her to pull away and she smirked as their eyes met, lust and love darkening his to the color of the waves in the Mediterranean.

Pressing her forehead to his, she inhaled slowly, covering her body with his, enjoying the feel of him aroused and out of control beneath her, until the intruder had passed to the elevator.

Once they were gone, she stood, draping his huge coat over her arm before grabbing his hand. "Come on..." She smiled as his thumb brushed over her knuckles and she tugged him forward, towards their room. "I think we both could use some warming up."