Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

Here's the second and final slightly longer part of this story. Thank you so much to JelloFanatic123, DayDreamer211, ilovemclife, mwalter1, shopping-luva91, yasminbanu786 and PhoenixWytch for reviewing! :) Hope you enjoy this part too! Xx

Part Two

"So tell me about this case." She began organising the folds of her skirt.

Patrick glanced across at her for a second, before turning his attention back to the road and to the case. He had secretly hoped to spend at least some of the evening talking with Teresa as if they were friends rather than simply discussing work.

"The California PD have been working this case for months, investigating a man who attends these kinds of high profile functions and abducts women from them. They return home the next day with next to no memory of the previous night, and no way to ID their attacker. The California PD wants me to see if I can track down their abductor."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "And I am here why?" She understood that as his handler she needed to be here, and there was Hoffman's concern about making sure any evidence they gleaned checked out in court but she was sure someone else could have accompanied Jane tonight.

He turned to glance at her again, his eyes sparkling deliciously. "I couldn't turn up with a date now, could I? That's so not done at these kinds of events, Lisbon."

She fought off the urge to roll her eyes again. "Because you attend them all the time, right?" She asked, playing along with his banter as usual.

"Oh yeah, all the time." He grinned. "Actually, I had to attend a fair few when I was doing the psychic circuit."

Lisbon could sense that his teasing mood was fading, of course he was remembering all of the times he had attended these kinds of functions with his wife.

"That explains the monkey suits then." She said, trying to keep the mood light. Patrick was irritate the hell out of her on a near-daily basis but she hated to see him upset over the death of his family. It made her want to do anything to take away his pain, and left her feeling ridiculously helpless.

"I think I look quite dapper, actually." Patrick replied and Teresa was pleased to see he could lay aside his pain, she hated seeing him look so lost.

Patrick pulled his car to a stop outside one of the most incredible houses Teresa had ever seen, and she had been to a fair few during her time at the CBI. The second Patrick had killed the ignition, a tall, lean black man dressed in a charcoal coloured suit came over to take the keys. With a shared nod, the man drove the car around to the private parking at the back of the house.

The two of them made their way towards the entrance across the gravelled drive, which was making Teresa remember why she rarely wore heels. Patrick noticed her struggling to keep up and offered her his arm, making their passage towards the double doors a little easier and quicker.

"Patrick and Teresa Smith." He told the blonde woman at the door who was checking names off a long guest list. She smiled winningly at them, letting her eyes scan Patrick for just a little too long before finally checking their names off her list.

"Have a great evening Mr and Mrs Smith." She told them. Teresa had to bite back a smile, feeling that this evening was really more like a movie than real life.

"Were the names your choice?" She hissed in his ear as they made their way through the spacious entrance hall.

"No, they were a compromise. Detective Hoffman wouldn't let me call myself James Bond." He replied, completely deadpan.

"I can't think why." Teresa muttered, accepting a glass of wine from a waiter who passed by with a tray loaded with drinks. "Why don't you ask him if he's seen anything suspicious?" She whispered to Patrick. "He might have regular work at these events."

Patrick looked mildly shocked and Teresa wasn't sure whether he was being serious or not. "Actually have a conversation with the hired help in front of all these people?"

"It was just a suggestion." She muttered, feeling more and more ill at ease by the moment. She was beginning to feel underdressed in her simple lilac gown and cross pendant, and had suddenly realised that she had forgotten to wear any earrings. Ninety percent of the women here seemed to be wearing tailored, designer gowns and their ears and throats dripped with diamonds and pearls. Teresa was really starting to believe that Hoffman should've asked Van Pelt to assist Patrick tonight, she was certain that Grace would own more than one dress and wouldn't have forgotten to put her earrings back in after her shower.

"That is our man." Patrick said with confidence when Teresa returned from the bathroom.

"And you know this how?" She wondered why she even bothered asked after all these months of working with him. More often than not he did appear to just 'know' these things. She spoke on behalf of her entire team when she said that it was extremely frustrating.

"Look at the way he's looking at that woman over there, she'll be his next victim." Patrick continued quietly. "See that slight bulge in his pocket, that's his supply of rohipnol or whatever he's drugging them with."

"Or he could just be happy to see her." Teresa shot back quietly as they slowly sidled a little closer to where the young man was standing. They hobnobbed a little with the other guests, but never let their suspect out of their sight.

"Who's your dress?" A redheaded woman of about the same age as Teresa asked.

"Uh," She stalled. Talking about fashion was hardly her strong suit and this was definitely not the situation to reveal that it was actually a recycled bridesmaids dress. "My friend is a fashion designer, you probably won't have heard of her, she's pretty new." It was a complete lie.

"Oh," The woman replied, walking away.

Teresa rolled her eyes at Patrick. "I need a drink. Do you want one?" He shook his head and Teresa went to get another glass of champagne from a brunette waitress who was passing in their direction. "How much longer do we have to stay here?" She asked, moving back to stand with Patrick.

"Anyone would think you're not enjoying yourself."

"And where would they get that impression?" It was true that this was not Teresa's idea of a good way to spend an evening, but she had to admit she was enjoying spending time with Patrick away from the office more than she thought she would. The envious glances that were being shot in her direction certainly helped to make the night more bearable.

A few minutes later, Teresa was starting to feel light-headed but blamed it on the fact that she hadn't had time to eat dinner between searching for her dress and taking a shower. The event had provided canapés but they hardly constituted as a proper meal. She helped herself to a few salmon puffs but the dizziness seemed to be getting worse not better. Patrick noticed that she seemed to be holding onto his arm a little tighter, her fingers digging into his flesh.

"Teresa, are you okay?" He asked, his face was just a blur to her and his voice sounded faraway. She managed to shake her head and waved her empty champagne flute at him before succumbing to the blackness.

"Too much champagne on an empty stomach." Patrick called a little too cheerily as he managed to carry both Teresa and her empty glass outside. He saw the look of surprise on the suspects face and the way the brunette waitress slipped out of the room even though there were still plenty of drinks on her tray. If the two of them were as stupid as Patrick suspected they were, some fingerprints would be found on Teresa's glass. "First night out since our baby was born, the freedom was just too much!" Patrick continued to prattle as he helped Teresa down the stairs onto the drive, and motioned for the valet. "He's in there." He told the black man who had parked their car for them. "Drag in the brunette from out the back too, she's his accomplice." He pulled out his cell phone and showed the undercover officer the candid shots he had taken. The detective thanked him and pulled out his walkie talkie.

Patrick supported Teresa's body against the side of the car and placed the empty champagne glass into an evidence bag he had been carrying in his jacket pocket. He made sure one of the other undercover agents received it and then helped Teresa into the passenger seat of his car. They drove through the darkened streets towards Teresa's home, Patrick occasionally glancing across at her sleeping form. As they approached the area where Teresa lived, Patrick thought he heard her stirring in the seat beside him.

"Hey sleepy, was the evening really that boring?"

"What happened?" She demanded, her eyes opening wide as she sat up straight in her seat.

"You helped us catch the suspect Lisbon, and you really went all out." Patrick replied.

"He spiked my champagne?" She asked, feeling both angry and humiliated.

"No, not yours." Patrick explained. "The waitress was heading for the woman he had been eyeing all night but you intercepted the spiked drink. The rate you drank it made the drug kick in faster, but it made him panic. So, nice going Lisbon."

Teresa leaned back in the seat and sighed. "Well, at least we caught him."

"Not forgetting the waitress; his accomplice." Patrick chimed in.

"Right," Teresa agreed and they lapsed into silence again until they neared a fast food restaurant. "I'm starving."

Patrick smiled, pulling over and navigating his way around the drive-thru. They drove the short distance back to Teresa's house, practically salivating from the smell of the burgers, fries and take away coffee.

Back at Teresa's, she pulled out the coffee table and they ate their late dinner on her couch.

"Now this," She said, washing down a mouthful of cheeseburger with a swig of coffee. "Is my kind of evening."

He reached out and wiped a dab of relish from her cheek with a napkins. "I couldn't agree more." Working with Lisbon was certainly teaching him to appreciate the simple things in life, something he wished he had learned a long time ago.

"And if you tell anyone at work tomorrow that I was drugged and passed out, I'll kill you."

Patrick chuckled, his blue eyes glittering so mischievously that he knew he deserved it when Teresa threw her balled up napkin at him.

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