AN: These characters don't belong to me, clearly. Well Jill is mine, but you're not here for her.

Falling Slowly.

I can hear the bottle of beer being popped open in my living room, the low sigh of appreciation as the first sip of the cold liquid is swallowed.

I have company.

I am oddly disturbed by how happy this has made me.

My friend is in town, so she's visiting and I know that's normal for most people but increasingly work has turned me into… Well, work has taken all of my time, and I really haven't seen enough of the few close friends I do have. So Jill Barker, FBI Agent, law graduate, mom of two, wife of Stephen, Bruins fan, and bull crap detector like no other, is drinking with me in my home.

I love and am intimidated by her in equal measure, as is everyone who knows her really. We don't see each other very often, she lives in Washington with her family, but we email often and talk when we get the chance. She's important to me, and a part of me knows that, and is happy that, I am important to her too. Anyway, she is in town working at a conference for a few days, so I've left work before 8pm to attempt a little bit of a social life.

I have company.

I'm such a loser, and Jill is so going to call me on that.

"Teresa, there is cold beer waiting for you in here; I can't promise the same will be true if you don't stop fussing and come sit down."

"Sorry Jill, I couldn't decide on healthy snacks or cheese based products, so I brought them all. And I ordered us pizza, obviously."

I dump vegetables, dips, chips, and bread sticks on the table. I curl up in my favourite chair, as Jill looks very much at home from her position on my sofa.

"You sure you're ok with beer Teresa, I can go get us something stronger if you prefer?"

"No, this is good, this is nice."

"Nice, Teresa, since when do you like nice?"

"I meant I'm happy with this. Stop teasing me while you drink my beer, and eat my chips. We could've gone out you know, still can if you prefer."

"Nope, I like this just fine. We can talk easier here without a line of guys trying to pick you up."

I nearly spit my mouthful of beer down my shirt at this statement.

"Really Jill…"

I think my eyebrow might actually be raised above my hair line right now.

"Because I'm just that irresistible? Trust me I think we could talk just fine if we went out. Let me change out of my sweats and we can go eat somewhere good."

"Teresa darling, sit back down. I was teasing, sort of. Actually no I wasn't, the last time we went out you got hit on by at least 3 guys. Remember? One of them was so cute I considered doing a background check on him to see if it was worth spending time trying to get you together with him."

I should mention now that Jill calls me darling, it means you're part of her small circle of cherished friends. It took me a long time to get used to it, even longer to like it, but I am humbled to be in her group friends. I hope she feels the same about me.

"You did not Jill."

"Well I was pretty drunk maybe it was a passing thought. He was cute though. Anyway, darling, pizza and beer are perfect. I get the night off from worrying if I'm making my kids eat enough vegetables, or if I'm feeding them too much chocolate to make me their favourite parent. Look, I do want to talk to you in peace and quiet, I miss you. And I'm too old and too married to put up with guys trying to steal your company from me."

"Old, Jill we're the same age; if this is going to be one of those conversations then I might actually need tequila."

"Nope, I have an early start, there will be no tequila tonight Teresa Lisbon. I was hoping to have conversations about how wonderful we both are, how Magic Mike is possibly the greatest movie cinema has ever given us, discuss just what it is about salted caramel lattes that people go so crazy over, and then I was probably going to try and sneak in a question or two about your love life. Sound good?"

Well I knew that last part was coming, at least she's been here for nearly an hour before we got onto the subject of my lack of love life. I sigh and probably look as weary as I feel. I don't need this, I know she means well, but I just don't need this tonight.

"Look, darling, I worry about you. I'm not going to be sorry about that, not ever. Worrying about you via email is difficult and tonight we are in the same room, we have alcohol and pizza is on the way, you had to have suspected I was going to go there."

I did, of course I did, but for a while I wanted to pretend this was going to be easy.

"Okay then, what it is you want to know about my dating habits?"

Jill has been staring at me for a few moments with what looks like disbelief on her face, that can't be good.

"Teresa, I'm not convinced you could give me any details. We both know thinking about yourself or worrying about your own feelings is a place you really don't like to go."

I'm studying my hands now, looking at the clear blue of the veins underneath my skin, determined to concentrate on anything other than the honesty of the words spoken to me. The fault here is mine and I should have expected this, been more ready for it. I should have known I was at least going to get a 'concerned friend' lecture tonight. I should have had a speech prepared for this.

I should really have insisted on tequila.

"Don't look like I'm trying to hurt you darling, I'm allowed to worry. Okay?"

I finally look at my friend, recognising the truth of her statement and the honest affection in her voice.

"Okay."

I barely recognise myself, that word that escaped me sounded like it was spoken by a scared woman, an utterly exhausted woman. I wonder if that's who I really am now, I mean am I really that terrified over talking about my own feelings? Or maybe I'm just afraid that Jill knows me well enough to push me until I talk about my terrifying feelings for Patrick Jane.

"Teresa, I just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself, that's all."

A firm knock at my door breaks the tension. Pizza comes through for me yet again.

"Just let me pay for our food and I'll be right back with you."

I uncurl myself from my comfortable position on my chair, padding across the room to retrieve the distraction of dinner. I pay for our meal, tipping way too much but I needed to pretend to be normal for a moment; I am so grateful for the chance to breathe.

She's going to make me talk, she always can. It's one of the reasons I love her and need her in my life, but also why I am so scared. I move into my living room and place our dinner on the cluttered table in front of my sofa. As I do this Jill moves from where she has been sitting and pulls me towards her in a clumsy attempt at a hug.

"It's worth remembering darling that I care. Let it be ok that I do, and just accept I'm on your side. Okay?"

She tightens her arms around me as I return the embrace, enjoying the uncomplicated affection.

"Okay. I'm sorry, I care about you too."

I feel slightly ridiculous admitting this but at least I get to say it to Jill's shoulder, and I can hide some of my embarrassment.

"Well good. Now that we've established our mutual affection let's attempt to eat at least half of all this junk food and then I can go back to making you feel uncomfortable."

So we eat our pizza and enjoy a couple of beers and I let myself relax a little. We talk about Jill's conference; she's got a seminar to deliver tomorrow and it's kind of a big deal. There's a high profile strategy her department have been trialling so I know we won't be drinking anymore beer tonight. But I can tell it's been helpful for Jill to talk about her schedule tomorrow, talk about it with someone who doesn't have anything to gain or any reason to be anything other than supportive. I can see, however, the exact moment she tires of talking about work; she gets a text message and her whole demeanour is transformed from stressed to happiness.

"I take it that's a message from home?"

She keeps all of her attention on the words on the screen of her phone, it takes her a few moments to even look up and acknowledge my question.

"It is, Stephen telling me that the warfare of bath time went ok and that he's going to sleep. And that he loves me, and other stuff I'm not sharing even with you darling."

Her smile of pure pleasure while relaying this information to me is the best thing I have witnessed in weeks.

"I can go clean up, let you call home if you want?"

"No, no it's okay. I'll call him in the morning. What I really want to do now is talk to you."

"Jill, I have nothing to say. Job going okay, but you know it's been a tough year. My apartment is finally starting to look and feel like my home. I've been running more when I can, thinking about maybe training for a marathon this year. I'm not seeing anyone, and I'm really okay with that. That's all. I'm fine; please stop looking at me as if you have to worry about me. I'm good."

"You're good, that's what we're going with?"

"I don't need the 'when are you going to find a husband' chat Jill. I'm surprised you would go there."

"Did I mention anything about you needing a husband? I don't care about that – works for me, doesn't work for everyone. That's not what I mean, and I think you know that Teresa. You're trying so hard to either pick a fight or feign disinterest in your own life and that only makes me worry more."

I know she's telling me the truth, just as I've known where this conversation was eventually going to lead us. But Jill usually lets me off the hook so she must think I'm in a very bad way if she's not prepared to do that.

"I just don't feel like talking about me all night. It would be more fun for you to tell me stories about Emily and Michael it's been too long since I've seen them".

"Look darling, I'll bore you all night and into next week about how wonderful my kids are if that's what you really want. But we're here, just us, there's no one to interrupt and no one to judge. I'm asking you again, on behalf of people that love you – how are you doing?"

I stare at my hands again, hiding my face behind my hair; feels like I've turned into the teenager I was never really allowed to be. I don't know what to say, but I do want to share my thoughts with someone. I do want to tell someone about… Wait, I don't want to tell someone, I want to tell Jill. I want not to be judged, but then I know the harshest judgement will always be my own. But more than this, more than any of this; I don't want to cry because I am so afraid that if I start weeping I won't be able to stop.

I really am a teenager again, how pathetic.

"Teresa, is the secret of the universe written on the back of your hands?"

"It was, but it rubbed off."

Jill laughs at my weak joke, but the tension is broken and maybe I should just talk. Maybe I should just be brave for once.

"I don't know what to say, Jill. I don't know what you want me to say."

Well, my bravery lasted all of thirty seconds, as I'm back hiding my eyes; my cheeks burning with embarrassment as we endure another uncomfortable silence.

"Teresa, I'll start you off so we both know exactly where we stand. Okay? Patrick Jane, any comments that come to mind?"

And I'm laughing now, laughing so hard that my stomach muscles are straining from the effort. Jill is laughing too, if anyone were to see us they would probably think we had lost our minds – but it feels good to laugh. I can't remember the last time I laughed till it hurt. It feels good, it's why uncomplicated relationships are important I suppose. Now, I should step up and talk about my most complicated relationship.

"I can see why you are such a successful agent Jill, you're subtlety is peerless."

"That's what my husband tells me."

She is still laughing, I think she might have a bigger beer buzz than I thought, or maybe she is still just trying to make me feel safe and comfortable and cared for.

"I'm very happy you came to visit, Jill. It's good to have you here."

"I'm happy too, darling, but now enough prevaricating and tell me what's going on with you and Patrick Jane."

"Subtlety again?"

"Yeah, and you are delaying again. Come on, Teresa, I have to go back to my hotel soon so you're going to have to get to the good stuff now. I am going to allow you to give me a ride to the airport tomorrow night, and first I will buy you a nice dinner – and for the duration of our meal I will bore you with stories about my children, my husband, and how we spend our weekends. First, I want you to tell me why you are so sad Teresa."

"I'm not sad Jill, I don't want pity. I don't know what to say, I don't know how to explain to you what's been going on. I don't know how much you know, or how much you want to know."

"Well, let me tell you what I think I know about you and Patrick Jane and you can tell me if I'm wrong."

"Okay."

"Can I call I call him Patrick, feels odd double naming him all the time?"

"I don't ever really call him Patrick, not even to myself. He's Jane, call him Jane please."

Jill moves to the end of the sofa, bringing herself closer to me and where I sit. I think she wants to read my face for my reactions to her words, or maybe she wants to be close enough to hold my hand. Both of those scenarios are likely knowing Jill.

"Jane is getting more reckless in his attempts to find Red John, and people are talking. And I don't care about his recklessness, I care about your life – and I worry how you will be affected by this. I worry about your career, I worry about your life and I worry about your heart. And I worry that you don't care about those things I worry about, because all you see is him."

"I care about his recklessness."

I whisper those words, not wanting to admit that they are more important than anything else Jill said. I worry about him. He is so reckless, and I care.

Jill reaches for my hand and encloses my cold fingers with her own warmer ones. So the move closer to me was about comfort, I'm not sure I can bear that.

"I know you do, Teresa. Tell me, then. Tell what is going on."

"I can't, there are trusts I can't break – Jane feels he is closer than ever to catching the man who killed his wife and child."

"I don't need to know about that, I don't want to about Red John. I want to know about you, if you are taking care of yourself or if you are letting him abuse your trust."

"It's more complicated than that."

"Really, would you let me treat you the way I think this Jane guy treats you?"

I don't even have to think about the answer to that but I pause for a few moments, hopefully giving the impression that I do.

"No, I wouldn't stand it from anyone else."

"So if he doesn't respect you, and gets you into trouble why do you put up with it? Explain to me why my confident, capable friend allows a trickster to rule her life."

Because he is my life. I can't say that out loud, I don't even like the way it sounds inside my own head.

"He does respect me I won't have you thinking otherwise. I'm his partner; it's my job to stand beside him. He's part of my team, and it's my job to protect them."

"And that's all it is?"

"No, of course not, you know that – you wouldn't be pushing me like this if you didn't already know that."

"Okay, that's good. So you have feelings for someone you work with, yes? That's complicated and difficult but it happens, I don't know why it would be so awful."

"One sided relationships, Jill, embarrassing and the worst."

"Okay, you spill details now and you need to pick good words. I need you to just tell me everything about how you are feeling. You don't even need to look at me while you're doing it if that makes you feel better; just carry on staring at you lap or your hands. But I do think it would help if you admit to both of us just what is hurting you so much. I won't interrupt, you know I won't judge and maybe I can help. How does that sound?"

"Like something I really don't want to do."

"Excellent, let's hear it then."

As Jill says these words, she leans back onto the comfortable cushions of my sofa and starts to eat the remaining bread sticks from earlier. Odd that I am about to confess my most protected secrets while my friend snacks. Or typical perhaps that I am focusing on the snacking rather than my secrets.

"Teresa, we don't have all night darling. Nothing that you can tell me will ever make me think less of you, so just say the words. But you have to say them out loud, I'm just saying."

"You are such a smart ass; I'm surprised Stephen puts up with you."

"He has too, and so do you – words Teresa, I need the words."

I don't know which ones to choose, how can I explain ten years of my life in a few sentences?

"I made a mistake a few weeks ago, Jill, a horrible mistake. For the ten years we have worked together I have tried so hard to keep my feelings to myself. I don't want to be a burden to Jane, he has enough of those. So I've kept myself hidden as much as I could but I think he knows now."

That's it, that's what I have to tell her. That's all.

"Teresa, what does that even mean? Did you get drunk and confess your undying love?"

"Of course not, that would be awful. I let my guard down, and he saw; and I don't know how to come back from that."

"Explain, I promise I'll help but you have to give me more detail."

I'm going to cry, I think. Fitting, I suppose, considering my actions that I am so ashamed of.

"We were dealing with a suspect, and Jane tends to lose focus when it comes to this particular suspect. She was a confidant of Red John, and Jane and she had slept together when he disappeared to Vegas last year."

"What? Wait, what?"

"Yeah, I had a few troubles with it too. He was playing mind games with Red John, faking a breakdown amongst other things. Anyway, he had an intense history with Lorelai - the woman - to the extent that I couldn't explain it to you now. But he loses his grasp on reality when she is around, and I find that hard to deal with. I was stupid and I got emotional at work and I think he knows now."

"That you love him."

A statement, of course, not a question.

"Yes."

"And it's a bad thing that he knows because he has no feelings for you, because of this woman? I have to tell you, Teresa I don't think I want you to have feelings for this guy if he is sleeping with suspects."

"It's more complicated than that, and part of my problem was that I don't really know about the relationship between Jane and Lorelai. And it's not like I'll ever really know now, as Lorelai was killed recently. I think he felt a connection with her, and I am jealous of that. And he saw, he saw I was jealous. And he let it go, there was a moment he could have been honest with me if he had feelings to share…And he let it go. I need to get over myself and let it go too. "

"I only understand half of what is going on here. This woman, Lorelai, she died? Do you want to talk about that?"

"Absolutely not."

"Okay, so he saw that you were jealous and that means you love him? Couldn't it just mean you were pissed with him?"

"No, Jane reads people, he would know. I couldn't hide it."

"And is he making work difficult for you because of this?"

I laugh out loud at this question, if only she knew.

"No Jill, he makes work difficult because he is Jane; that's been going on for ten years. No, we are ignoring what happened. The same way we ignored it when he told me he loved me."

She sits forward on the sofa, pulls my hands from where they rest in my lap and pulls me forward to face her, the frustration evident on her face.

"Teresa this is the most complicated conversation we have ever had, are you kidding me? He confessed his love, and you ignored it. Both of you?"

"No I asked him if he meant it, and he said that he couldn't remember what he said."

"I think I might need to kick this guy when I see him, is this real what you're telling me? Truly?"

"It's true, but you are getting the wrong impression of Jane. He won't allow himself to live, Jill. He has half of a life, where he exists to find and kill Red John. He won't allow himself to lose sight of that, or for anyone to get in the way. And that includes all of us that he works with, all of us who are the closest to him. He won't move on, maybe even if he wants too. He needs his anger, his pain, and his desperation to be as raw as it was when he found his family all those years ago. I can't deny him that, I can't interfere with what he has to finish – I can try, but I can't change the need that is inside him. I want other things for him, I believe he should have more than half of a life but I can't make him change. He is kind enough to spare my feelings by leaving them alone. I think he believes that it is a kindness to pretend I feel nothing, and for us to muddle along as we always have. And he is selfish enough in his quest to want justice for a killer more than he requires any sort of life for himself."

Jill squeezes my hand, and I think the sympathy might be my undoing.

"Teresa, what do you want? Just say it, just say it out loud. If you could have anything, what do you want with Jane?"

I pull my hands back to swipe at my tears, sitting back in my chair to try and compose myself again.

"I want him to rest. He never sleeps, well not for long enough. He has no home to speak of anymore so he haunts a room in the CBI building where he plots and sometimes attempts to rest. So he actually almost never rests, and it is obvious how utterly exhausted he is. So what I most want for him is for him to lie down on a comfortable bed and to sleep for a night. I want him to have peace for a while. That's what I want most with Jane; I just want some peace for him."

I look up at Jill, wondering why she is silent, and she is weeping too now.

"Teresa, darling, I'm sorry I didn't mean to cry but that's so… You really are lovely, and I know you hate to hear things like that, but you are. And I think I understand a little of what you have with this man, perhaps not all the subtleties and textures of your life – but I think I get it a little more. I'm very sorry, and I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything I don't need you to Jill. I'm not going to stop caring, and I want you to understand that my caring isn't a weakness. I care about someone and the world won't stop because of that. He doesn't want to be with me, and it breaks me sometimes but I love anyway on my own. It is how it is, and I can't give it up, so please don't try and persuade me to. This is my life, and I won't change it."

"Can I have a hug, I promise I won't make you again tonight but I think I want to hug you now."

So we rise from where we are sitting and Jill wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me against her, and in return my hands go round her shoulders and I am just short enough to hide my face in her shoulder. I'm not crying anymore, but I do feel raw and exhausted and to be held and supported by my friend feels good. I don't often allow myself this closeness with people, and I think I should sometimes.

"I'm so happy I got to spend some time with you tonight Teresa, and I'm sorry I pushed you into talking and crying. But I appreciate the privilege of your trust and your honesty."

"I'm sorry for crying."

And for crying on your shirt, and leaving wet patches on a sweater I am almost certain is expensive cashmere. I'll whisper that sentiment and hope Jill picks up on it somehow…

Jill loosens her hold on me, and moves her hands to wipe away the tear tracks on my cheeks. She is looking at me with such affection, and something else which could very well be concern. And it hits me suddenly that this her mom face, and I miss mine all the more in this moment. It's funny the journeys emotion can take your mind on sometimes. Anyway…

"I should go, Teresa. I'm sure you have an early start tomorrow too. But I meant what I said earlier, I would love to buy you dinner tomorrow if you're free?"

"Of course, that would be lovely. Shall I come and pick you up?"
"Nope, I am coming to your office and I am going to silently inspect this man you have such affection for."

"Jill, I don't want you to interfere."

"I absolutely promise I will not do that, I just want to see him for myself. He is rumoured to be gorgeous after all. Is that something that is remotely true?"

"You must have seen pictures of him; you know what he looks like."

"Yes, Teresa, but I am asking if you think he is gorgeous."

I can feel my cheeks burn again, why do I do that, it makes concealing my feelings so stupidly difficult. But yes, of course I think he's gorgeous – I don't think anyone would argue that point.

"He has a certain something."

"Really, a certain something? I'll bet. Okay, I'm going and I will see you tomorrow my friend. And I promise I won't do anything to embarrass you, I just want to take you out for a fun dinner. We can talk about all the things we didn't tonight, Magic Mike, shoes… I don't know, whatever women are supposed to talk about."

"Your children, we are going to talk about your beautiful children. And maybe shoes. But I want to talk about happy things, not depress you with stories of my stupid life."

"Your story was not stupid, it was lovely and I am moved by what you told me. But I need to go to my hotel and get some rest, so I would like to sleep on what you shared and tell you my thoughts tomorrow. Would that be okay?"

No, of course not. I'm going to pretend tonight never happened.

"Depends on how good my steaks is, but if that's what you want then of course. You can solve the puzzles of my life for me and feed me dinner – sounds like a perfect night."

Jill kisses my cheek in farewell, gathers her bag and jacket and heads out into the cool air of the evening. I watch her get into her rental car and drive off.

I clear away our glasses and snacks, and go upstairs to the darkness of my bedroom. I crawl into my bed fully dressed and close my eyes. I will lie awake most of the night thinking of what I don't have and my thoughts of a different life.

I spend nights like this often.

At least tonight, for a while, I had company.