Disclaimer – As cool as it would be to be a member of Team Heller, it's evident I'm not. Therefore I don't own any part of the Mentalist TV series and am not making any money off these stories.

Okay, I'll be honest. I'm surprised after reading reviews that some of you didn't know whether Lisbon was pregnant. I really, really thought it was obvious. Well, if it was a surprise, I hope it was a pleasant one. Either way, thank you to everyone who stuck with this story, and especially to everyone who left reviews. I appreciate knowing you're out there!

Here's the end. Hope it's satisfactory for whoever is left reading this. J

Chapter 61

"Keep pedaling, keep pedaling, keep pedaling! Whoa!"

There was clatter of mechanical bits on concrete. Teresa lifted her head, trying to see over the white picket fence to the sidewalk next door.

"Oh! Oh! You're okay," Patrick said quickly yet calmly. "You're okay."

The windup didn't happen. That sound of crying born more of surprise than actual injury or pain didn't fill Teresa's ears as she expected. Still, it was worrying. Despite what she read and what the pediatrician told them, she felt Patrick was pushing the boy too hard to learn a two-wheeler. He was only five, for crying out loud.

"Patrick? Is he all right?"

"I'm all right, Mommy," Danny answered.

"He's okay," Alexandra Jane said from the vicinity of her mother's feet.

Teresa looked at her daughter who was carefully patting the dirt over the newly planted tulip bulb. The little girl tilted her head, checking her work critically before looking up to give her mother a huge grin – her father's grin. "He's okay."

"I'm going to look. You stay right here, Xandra."

"Can I plant a bulb by myself?"

Giving an appraising look at the spot the girl had just work, Teresa handed the four-year-old a daffodil bulb. "Pointy side up."

"I remember, Mommy."

Of course she did. She was her father's daughter is so many ways.

Teresa turned to start toward her husband and her son, trying not to run but feeling a little panicky despite the assurances. Patrick had the boy on his feet already and was brushing him off.

"Okay, little man, one more try. Look ahead, not down at the ground."

The vision in Teresa's left eye blurred a little, just like it always did in times of stress. It was her one reminder of surviving the attack by Nofoa, Red John's vengeful disciple. Well, that and the slight drooping of the eyelid on that same eye. Nerve damage, they said. A damned nuisance, she thought, but it was the final convincer to Bertram to promote her to Special Agent in Charge. Her vision was no longer strictly 20/20 and uncorrectable, but the press would have a field day if he fired her for taking a hit related to the previous execution of her duty, the killing of Red John.

And Patrick was correct; Bertram turned her into the CBI mouth-piece.

"Remember the balance bike?" Patrick asked Danny, patting the boy on the back. "You mastered that in no time. You got this, kid. I know you do."

She sighed when Danny grinned that winning smile. Sometimes she wondered if Patrick was a bad influence on the boy, the world's most loving dad teaching his son how to charm and outsmart everyone. Danny was bright, that was for certain, and more than once they double-teamed her to get their own way. She had a sick feeling that Patrick would delay growing old so that he and Danny could be teenagers together. Then Patrick could teach him to be a con artist.

"A cop," Patrick said breaking through her thoughts. When she looked at his face, he was smiling and eyeing her from the corner of his eye. "Not a mentalist but a police detective like his mom."

She stopped herself from muttering "Bullshit" out loud, but she thought it. And she knew he'd read it in her eye; the toothy grin he flashed told her so.

"Well, be careful with him. My pot roast will be ready in an hour, and I'd rather not be at the emergency room when I should be putting dinner on the table."

"Don't worry, Mom," Patrick said, mocking her mildly with his tone.

Behind her came a lilting voice, "Don't worry, Mommy."

Teresa looked back at Alexandra as blonde curls bobbed with the little girl's head movement. If Danny was going to be a cop, Xandra was going to be a master gardener.

Okay, so what if it she seemed to be getting more soil on her lap than in the hole with the tulip bulb, but she did it with great enthusiasm. Her interest in gardening really made Teresa's heart sing, although Patrick said it was mostly that Xandra just wanted to spend time with her mommy. Since Teresa spent so much time there, it made sense that her daughter would too.

"Very good, Sweet Pea. Now how about one more before we check on the pumpkin patch? I think your brother's pumpkin is starting to get a little orange tint to it."

"Mine was first," Xandra said, not bothering to leave the competition out of her voice.

"Yes, yours started turning orange first. Daddy's was second."

"Maybe yours is going orange too?"

"Fingers crossed," Teresa said lightly.

"I was sad when the bunnies ate the gourds."

"Me, too. And so was Daddy. He was sorry that he missed the hole in the fencing. Next year, he-"

"Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon!"

Teresa spun around at the urgency in Patrick's voice. He only called her 'Lisbon' when he was excited about something.

At a decent speed, Danny pedaled past steadily with his dad running alongside, barely keeping up. There was no wobble. Well… maybe a little wobble, but the boy was doing really well.

"Look, Xandra!"

Danny and Patrick got two doors down before something distracted the boy, and Patrick had to catch the bike as it was about to go over. Then he grabbed the boy, scooping him off the bike in a big hug and twirling around as Danny giggled with delight. When Teresa started clapping, Xandra did too. She adored her big brother. She adored everything, it seemed, but especially her big brother.

How could such a little child be full of so much love? Did being born a preemie and getting extra attention as a baby have anything to do with it? Teresa was worried that it would cause the exact opposite, that her little elven child with her twinkling blue eyes and riotous curls would be spoiled and hard to control. Alexandra was anything but. Yes, she was smart and precocious but she had a heart of gold. It was hard not to envision Patrick as a child.

"Danny's riding a bike," she sang happily. "Danny's riding a biiiike."

"Yes, he is. Now finish that last bulb while I gather the tools for cleaning up."

"And water them?"

"Just a little. Bulbs don't need as much water as other newly planted flowers do. Also, Daddy is going to put mulch down while Mommy's at work tomorrow."

"Daddy's not working tomorrow?"

"It's Monday. Daddy doesn't work on Mondays."

"So no school?"

"Montessori School for you, little darling, just like every Monday."

A slight pout played on the little girl's lips before she turned back to the task at hand.

"I thought you liked going to school."

The tight blonde curls bounced as she nodded vigorously. "But I like staying home with Daddy more."

Teresa made a sympathetic mew and crouched next to Alexandra. "Mommy likes staying home with Daddy, too, but we can't always do anything we want. That's just life, honey-bunny."

"Uh oh, the 'honey-bunny' is out," Patrick said.

Teresa jumped at the sound of his voice right at her ear, her hand flying to her throat. A cheeky grin spread across his face.

"What is it my princess doesn't want to do that Mommy is calling her 'honey-bunny'?"

"I was just explaining that she has school tomorrow." She held out her hand and he helped her rise to her feet.

"Oh, yes, smart little girls like you and Mommy have to go to school and to work. Dumb Daddies get to stay home and watch action movies on cable TV."

Teresa smacked him lightly on his stomach.

"Smart Daddies stay home and work on files for our dear Uncle Sam."

With exaggeration he bent over it a little and pulled a mug. "Oh! Yes, that too. Then after that, they lie on the sofa watching movies."

"After that, they put mulch down on the new tulip beds."

"Oh yeah…Unless he can convince Number One Son to do it for him."

"Jane, he's five."

"He's strong for five."

It was a habit she'd broken herself of years before, but she really REALLY wanted to roll her eyes at him.

"I think I'm going to call the cable company and shut off our service for a week. Maybe I can get my back fence painted before winter comes."

"Oh, Daniel said he wants to do it. I explained what fun it is and how I was looking forward to it. He insisted that I let him do it."

Her jaw dropped as she stared at him. Then she felt a small twitch in her left eye as her stare turned into a glare. "Patrick Alexander Jane…"

He held up his hands and took a step back, almost tripping on Daniel and his bike.

"Sweetheart…call it training in resisting the conman, or a-a-a life lesson."

"I would rather call it what it is: teaching a five-year-old to be a cynic!"

"Meh. To-may-to, to-mah-to."

She threw her hands in the air, unable to resist rolling her eyes. After five years, why had she expected him to grow up?

"You're incorrigible, Jane."

"But loveable. Deny it if you will."

Teresa sighed deeply and looked down at her daughter who was putting the final touches on the last bulb.

"Xandra, you and Danny go in a wash up for supper. Daddy is going to water these for us."

"But Mommy…"

"But me no 'buts', honey-bunny. Danny, put your bike to the side so nobody trips over it. Both of you, inside. We'll leave this stuff for Daddy, since he needs to earn his day off tomorrow."

Typical Patrick. He huffed like a child and dropped his shoulders. He got a slightly sullen look on his face but immediately turned to do what Mommy said.

She smiled a little. Yep, telling children to listen to their mother may have been important, but actually having to do it despite it being clearly resistant to it was a life lesson all its own.

"Thank you, Daddy," she said.

He glanced back at her with a twinkle in his eye. Oh, yes, Daddy would get to tell Mommy what to do later when they were alone.

It was what partners did.

The End

Thank you, everyone.