Title:The good match
Author:Little_firestar84
Rating: T
Characters: Patrick Jane, Teresa Lisbon
Summary: "People said it could never happen here, but this is a strange frontier" (Strange Frontier- Roger Taylor). She still didn't know what possessed her to answer to his question that day...
Disclaimer: Uhm. well, my father is called Bruno, but since it's Negro and not Heller, I'd say that I don't own the rights to the Mentalist.
Notes: Written for Lothiriel84 in the Paint It Red 2012 Gift Exchange; betaed by Tromana- love you girl, you've been my personal mean to cheering up altely, along with Rothelena!

Teresa Lisbon was many things, but despite what people said about her, she wasn't naïve. She had always known that people around her were making assumptions about her relationship with Jane right from the start. By which, she meant the first time she allowed him to get away with one of his idiotic plans. If she had to be completely and utterly honest, she did as well.

Lately, though, it had been slightly different.

She knew what people were saying now. They were the same things she kept repeating to herself every day. It was that they weren't a good match and that there was no way that they could actually work in the long run. He was a conman and she was a cop. A by-the-book woman and a rascal of a man. An old, plain spinster and a charming, handsome man in his full vigor…

But despite those rumors, she knew the main reason why they were never going to work, however much they wanted it to and that was their past. Their past – both their pasts – as much as they defined who they were today, it also made them unable to reach fulfilling happiness. It also meant they were broken, maybe even beyond repair. He was a man who couldn't let go of his guilt and wife long buried. She questioned the motives of everyone who got close to her, expecting a broken heart each and every time, and she knew it.

She knew that this time, it wasn't going to be any different.

So, she didn't know what possessed her to say 'yes' when he causally dropped a 'we should get married' in the middle of the day, while napping on her couch in her office.

The wedding was arranged, of course, by Jane. It had been exactly like she had dreamt it to be as a young teenager in love, shortly before her world come crashing down with the loss of her parents.

They wed on a sunny, late-spring day, on a beach of the south coast of California, surrounded by family and friends (and CBI coworkers) who were there for them. She wore a long dress, ivory-colored, classic and romantic without being too fluffy, and her groom, was a handsome man dressed with a tuxedo. He appeared to have eyes for her and her only in that very moment. Maybe, he was a bit taken aback by her unusual and rather romantic and sweet appearance. He would probably have said that it was unusual, but welcomed nevertheless.
Only one thing lacked from her childhood fantasy: a groom who was madly in love with her.

She wasn't going to lie to herself, she knew exactly where that marriage was coming from, and it was merely comfort. It wasn't even of the sexual kind; nothing as remotely as sexual had ever happened between them. Whenever they happened to hold hands while walking around, it was awkward enough.

Yes, their relationship wasn't atypical of any normal couple. It was born out of friendship and the need to have somebody close by, ready to help and offer comfort. Having each other was better than having nobody. They both knew that they were the only ones who could remotely understand what they had gone through in the past (alone and together). They were they only ones who were going to be there without judgment and asking questions, not even once.

They weren't a good match, and yet, they were, in their kind of way. Even if love wasn't anywhere in the picture, life was better with him in it than not having him there at all. Or, for him, at least; she had stopped deluding herself about her own feeling a long time before. Years ago, after seeing a video of him, she understood that despite all his faults, she still loved him.

So, here she was, blushing and pale and shaking like a leaf in the storm on her wedding day (their wedding day), facing a handsome man who kept grinning at her no matter what. He was clearly misreading her fear for uneasiness or something similar…

Still, when he took her hand and left a lingering kiss on the corner of her lips, her fear didn't matter. She knew there was no way she could say 'no' at this point. She repeated that same thing again when the priest said the words out loud, 'You may kiss your bride.' He did just that; a sweet, quick peck on her lips. It showed all his trust for her and all of his affection. However, she was sure that she couldn't detect love in his actions.

The future, though, was a whole other matter. As good a match as they were, there was still a big part of her who was sure that everything was going to fall apart eventually. She didn't believe that they had a chance. That couldn't last in the long run…

She was sure that, once healed, Jane would see their union as what it truly was: the need to help and comfort each other. Then, he would either took pity on her unrequired love and they'd keep living in a loveless marriage, Either that or he'd say goodbye to her, disappear into the sunset, either alone or with someone who was better than her. Somebody who was younger, more beautiful, wilder and freer. She would be more sophisticated and without issues of any kind to shadow her past and heart.

She knew without a shadow of doubt that said day was going to come sooner or later, she could feel it in her very being, and yet she couldn't force herself to do something to stop or preventing this unfortunate situation.

She could just be there for him, no matter if her heart was going to shatter into millions of tiny little pieces in the process. Jane's happiness and completeness were worth her eventual pain, no matter what.

While waiting to become Mrs. Lisbon-Jane, she had often wondered if, once married, Jane expected sex to be part of the package. That was one of the reasons she had been so terrified the day they had united their lives. She didn't know what he may want or like and even questioned her taste in lingerie.

Their wedding night, though, didn't happen to be a problem, since she was so exhausted she could barely stand, let alone be awake enough to go through intercourse. The following weeks saw them traveling around the state catching terrible case after terrible case. There was no need to say that they had neither the time, nor the impetus to start something that they both knew would be a huge step into an unknown territory for them both.

Even at home, things weren't any easier. Despite being her husband, Jane rarely slept in the same room (or even house) as she did. The few times when he did stay, he laid with crossed arms and ankles on top of the covers and not underneath them with her.

Shortly after their first month anniversary, she awoke one morning to a brand new, but not necessary unwelcomed, sensation. They were spooning and his warm and wet lips were leaving a trail of sweet, small, lustful kisses on the back of her neck. His arms were so strong and sure, were wrapped around her hips.

"Oh, God, I missed you so much these last few weeks, Reese…" he had whispered. His hands greedily wandered through the expanse of naked skin around her belly, underneath the thin white cotton top. His lips grew more and more feral as time slipped by.

She had immediately turned into stone, sniffing, clenching her eyes shut as soon as her conscious mind had understood the meaning behind his actions. He had felt her resistance in that very moment and he had stopped his ministrations. Quickly, they had parted ways and he left her bed – their bed – muttering excuses with a low, broken voice.

He'd left her at home all alone, crying her heart out and wondering when and how her life had decided to go so south.
By saying 'yes' to him, she had ruined everything. Now, she wasn't sure she could actually help him to rebuild himself.

She thought she could handle her broken heart, if it meant Jane healed and in one piece again. Now, she knew she couldn't simply do it. She wasn't so sure of her choices in the last few months any longer but no matter what, he needed her. If to be whole, to be Patrick again, he needed to have her body as much as he had her soul, then so be it.

He had used Lorelei's body to try to get Red John, and he would do the same with her to satisfy whatever need he needed satisfied. She was going to be okay with that, especially if it meant his own salvation.

It was well after two in the morning when he finally returned to a place Lisbon couldn't define as home any longer, but as merely the shadow of a house. She had been worried sick the whole day, crying either in her – their – bed or on the couch he was so fond of. Just because she knew she would eventually lose him, it didn't mean she had to like it or take it well.

"Reese?" he whispered her name in the semi-darkness with something close to fear and terror and disbelief. He was immediately by her side, kneeling in front of the couch at her feet, cupping her face and studying her tears. He didn't dare to erase them with his thumbs; he didn't know he had been the one to put them there in the first place.

"I thought you weren't coming back," she whispered. The words coming from her mouth were nothing more than an unconscious whisper, for she had thought them more often than she'd actually said them. Saying them had never been an option. Showing him her pain, his effect on her, had never been an option.

"A better man would have stayed away, but I've never been that man, now or never," he said with a low voice and a sad smile, their foreheads touching. "I should have never…. I'm sorry for this morning."

"It's ok, really. Forgiven and forgotten," she told him with her best poker face, smiling, but like him, it was a sad smile.

"You know that I don't deserve you, right?" He paused, breathing in her scent, the very essence that made Lisbon who she was, that made her special to him. "I just… for a moment, I think I forgot and…. I'm sorry, it's just that… I thought we were both…. On the same page, you know? But I should have never made assumptions. I should have waited for you to make the first move. Instead, I acted like a horny teenager…"

She closed her eyes, shutting them like she had in the morning, and shook her head against his very skin.

"No, no, I should have thought that maybe….. that you could have wanted….and… and you are… a man and… I'm your wife, and you had every right to….."

She took him by the lapels of his jacket, holding him as close to her body as possible. He merely stared at her in disbelief, like he didn't know her any longer and he'd never actually known her. As soon as he got the chance, he pulled away.

"I'm not a monster, Reese, the only reason I… the only reason I touched you this morning was because I thought you wanted me too…"

"But…but I do… I just… I can understand if you just wanted me and not… me…." She replied, trying to explain herself. However, she already knew she couldn't and that he would do something that resulted in her heart being shattered. He would leave and abandon her.

Instead, when she dared to open and lift her eyes after minutes of endless silence, she saw a rarity. His smile was the truest, happiest, most open and contented smile she had ever seen on his face in almost ten years by his side.

"But I do want you, Reese…" He came closer and closer, until he was nuzzling the soft skin of her neck, and left tender kisses there. He played devilishly with her lobe while he engulfed her with his form. "You silly, silly woman… how can't you know it? How can't you know that I love you and that I've always loved you?"

And, in his pale blue eyes, she found the answer to every question she had never dared to ask in the first place. She saw the truth behind his words.

She didn't say a thing and just fell furthermore in his embrace. While she cried, she kissed him like she had never kissed him before and like she had never thought possible. He kissed away all her tears, all her fears, devouring them like a starving man.

She didn't need to say 'I love you', her kisses were worth billions of words, and when his tears joined hers, in that moment she knew.

People were wrong when they said the two of them couldn't work and that they weren't simply perfect to each other in their own way.
They were a good match, they were perfect together, and that was all.