A/N: Well, here we are at the end of another fic. I hope you had a great trip, and that it inspired you to go to Rome for real some day. That should be a requirement of all human beings, I believe. I wish we could stay in Rome forever (Okay, I mean me ;) but alas, here's the conclusion. Divertirsi! (Enjoy!)

Chapter 9: Arrivederci, Roma

"I suppose we should get out of this bed today," said Lisbon languidly, as she combed her fingers through Jane's hair. His head rested heavily on her chest and the rest of his body was sprawled partly over hers, effectively pinning her to the bed. She knew he was only half-awake-not surprising, given how they'd been up half the night making love.

Over the last twenty-four hours, they'd only left the bed to bathe or open the door for room service, and Lisbon was starting to get a little antsy. She'd never been prone to sleeping during the day, but Patrick Jane had perfected the art of catnapping, so he wasn't in much of a hurry to abandon their round-the-clock slumber party.

"I think it stopped raining," she added, hoping to tempt him.

His mumbled response was unintelligible.

She smiled, loving him more than she ever thought it possible to love anyone.

"I haven't had the time to buy many souvenirs, and I really think we should bring something home for Rigsby and Van Pelt."

"Pope soap and Coliseum key chains aren't going to adequately bring Rome home to them, Lisbon," he said, lazily lifting his head.

"True, but they'll appreciate the effort. Maybe I'll even buy Van Pelt one of these cheap bracelets with the saints on them."

She held up her own recently acquired wrist ornament, and she was heartily surprised when he nipped her playfully on the side of her breast.

She squealed a little—very unlike staid Teresa Lisbon—and with a speed that belied Jane's apparent languor, he had her wrists pinned against the bed, resting his body weight completely upon her. She couldn't move. Well, at least she pretended she couldn't. If he were an attacker, he'd be writhing in pain on the floor, clutching his crotch by now.

"What was that?" he muttered dangerously, eyes shining down at her. "Sauciness? Ingratitude?"

With his hair even more disheveled by her fingers and falling over his brow, he looked like a naughty little boy; it was very hard to take his chastisement seriously. When she grinned, he purposefully relaxed even more in retaliation. The rest of her breath swooshed out of her lungs.

"Sorry," she rasped out. "It's beautiful. Now get…off…me." She struggled halfheartedly, and was pleased with the reaction she got beneath the covers, recognizing he was having difficulty pretending he wasn't completely and utterly aroused by her movements.

"Ah, I don't think so. Since you went to a Catholic school, I think you know what a smart mouth can get you, young lady."

Her eyes widened in mock fear. "Not—"

"That's right," he nodded gravely. "A severe tongue-lashing."

She tried to laugh, but didn't have the air for it. He lifted his body briefly so she could catch a breath, then his mouth descended upon hers, at first punishingly rough, but almost immediately his kisses grew loving and seductive. She moaned and he released her wrists, allowing his hands to rest on either side of her face as his tongue slipped inside her mouth to mete out his punishment.

If this is his idea of punishment, thought Lisbon, wrapping her arms around his smooth back, I'll take a life sentence.

It was another hour before they finally made it out of their room.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

They decided to eat breakfast in the hotel restaurant off the lobby, so they were pleasantly surprised to see that Minelli and May had returned from the first leg of their honeymoon. They sat in a sunny corner, sipping their rich Italian coffee and holding hands across the table. Lisbon was struck by the sweetness of it.

"Should we interrupt," Lisbon whispered to Jane after they'd been seated a few tables away.

But it was too late—May had caught sight of them and smiled.

"Join us," she called, indicating that there was room at their table for two more. They caught the eye of their waiter and he brought two chairs to the Minelli table. The couple rose in greeting and there were hugs all around.

"How was the coast?" asked Jane when he settled into his new chair across from Lisbon.

"Gorgeous," replied May.

"Well, what we saw of it," said Minelli with a wink. Lisbon actually blushed. Fatherly former bosses didn't have sex lives.

Jane grinned. "Good for you both, Virgil. You still taking another week in Italy?"

"Yeah, though I admit I am a little anxious to get back to work."

"Well, that's not very romantic, Boss," Lisbon teased.

May laughed. "Believe me, I'm just as excited as he is. It will be good to get him off the couch and out of my hair."

"Well, things haven't been the same at the CBI since he left," said Lisbon seriously. "You don't know how happy I am that he'll be back where he belongs, even if it isn't as my boss."

"Oh, I'll still be happy to boss you around if you like," offered Minelli, but his eyes were bright with emotion. He'd missed her too.

"You're the only one besides Lisbon I've ever allowed to boss me," added Jane.

Minelli snorted before taking a sip of his coffee. "As if that ever stopped you from doing whatever the hell you wanted to anyway."

Lisbon nodded in understanding, and Jane shrugged unapologetically.

There was a pause in conversation as the waiter brought Jane and Lisbon's usual morning beverages and took their order for breakfast. When their hands accidentally touched as they both reached for the cream, they shared a secret smile, and Minelli's eyes narrowed on them.

"Well, you two didn't waste much time," he said, and Lisbon blushed.

"Virgil—" said May, chastising him for his tone.

"I don't know what you mean," said Jane innocently.

"Yeah, right. I was an investigator for thirty years, Jane. You're not fooling me."

Jane grinned and reached for Lisbon's hand. "You caught us. Against her better judgment, Lisbon here has fallen madly in love with me."

"My better judgment is right," the lady concurred, but she squeezed his hand and smiled happily.

"Really?" said May, excited. "If you ask me, it's about time. I sensed something between you two from the moment we met. Bravo."

"Yes," said Lisbon, though her heart was pounding to finally acknowledge her feelings to someone besides Jane. "You going to rat us out with Bertram, Boss?" she asked Minelli.

The older man sat back against his chair, his hand resting on his chin thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure how CBI rules about fraternization apply to consultants. It might come down to your designation, Jane. If you are an independent consultant, it means you officially work for yourself, not the CBI. If you aren't, then you're a CBI employee, and so fall under their rules."

Lisbon had been afraid to voice these fears. "So it might be as simple as changing what we call him?"

"Yeah, I think so. But it won't be that easy. Independent means he would probably lose his healthcare and other state benefits, maybe some of his official privileges…"

"But then he wouldn't have to quit though, right?" she asked, glancing hopefully at Jane.

"Hey, I like my dental benefits," protested Jane dryly, showing his famous pearly whites.

"You're teeth are lovely," said Lisbon, "but it's the rest of your body I'm worried about."

Jane nearly choked on his tea, the fit of laughter hit him so unexpectedly, and Minelli and May smiled knowingly at each other.

"Shut up," said Lisbon. "You know what I mean. I want to still be able to work with you. We make a great team," she finished softly.

Jane patted his lips with his napkin and mirrored her expression. "Yes, we do."

It took some effort to break eye contact and look politely back at their breakfast companions, to forget that she and Jane weren't the only two people in the room.

"I'm sure Bertram won't tolerate much hanky-panky though," warned Minelli.

"Then there shall be neither hanky nor panky," Jane promised, but he gave a wink to Lisbon. "Scout's honor."

"Ha," replied Minelli. "As if you were ever a Boy Scout."

"Actually—" began Jane.

"There won't be," Lisbon rushed to assure her former boss, shooting Jane a look of annoyed embarrassment. "We shall maintain the height of professionalism, as we always have done."

Jane raised his eyebrows at that, but for once refrained from comment.

"Well, it will be great to have you back, Boss," Lisbon said, slightly changing the subject. "Maybe Serious Crimes and White Collar will cross paths once in awhile."

"In this economy, you can count on it," Minelli quipped, and they all shared a hearty laugh.

They chatted happily for the next forty-five minutes, discussing the sights of Rome and Amalfi, cultural differences, and Minelli's plans to stay with family for their last week in Italy.

They said good-bye with the knowledge they would see each other again soon, in Sacramento. When Jane and Lisbon stepped out of their hotel into the late morning sun, he automatically took her hand and they walked toward the shops that lined the Piazza di Spagna. The air smelled fresh and clean from the recent rains, the cobblestones still wet in places.

"Feel better now?" he asked her.

She wondered if she would ever get used to him reading her mind.

"Yes. Wondering whether we'd still be able to work together at the CBI was a concern. How about you? If what Minelli says is true, this will affect you the most. Is becoming an independent consultant really what you want to do?"

"It's a small enough sacrifice, Lisbon."

She tiptoed up to kiss him on the cheek, mid-walk. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said.

And just thinking about their simpatico when working together, kissing her in a hidden alcove, fulfilling her fantasy and taking her on his couch—Jane had no doubt it would be pleasurable indeed.

He decided not to tell her he'd been kicked out of the Boys Scouts. Apparently, he didn't like following rules.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The flight home was a bittersweet one, especially for Cho. He kept reliving his last kiss with Serena, in the garden in front of her grandmother's house while the taxi waited to take him to the train station. She'd had tears in her eyes, but she'd smiled at him, reaching up to trace the hidden dimple in one of his cheeks. Her fingertip had been so soft, and she'd smelled like roses.

"Arrivederci," she'd said softly. "I will miss you, Kimball."

"Me too," he'd said. And damned if he'd almost told her he loved her, but that would have been ridiculous. Impossible. You couldn't love someone in less than a week. Ask Romeo and Juliet, he thought morosely.

He glanced over at Jane and Lisbon, sitting across the aisle of the plane in their first class seats (Jane had once again finagled it for all three of the). The pair were holding hands, talking and laughing softly, their heads close together, the arm rest up between their seats. He was happy for them, truly, but he was also tasting the unfamiliar flavor of envy.

He tried to reassure himself with various platitudes, starting with, it's better to have loved and lost, etcetera, etcetera…It wasn't really helping him much. Heaving a sigh, he put on his headphones and watched the in-flight movie. Les Miserables.

Go figure.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three weeks later…

Cho was eating his lunch at his desk, when his cell phone buzzed an incoming text. He smiled when he saw it was from Serena. She had sent a picture of them together on that rainy day in the park, her arm holding the camera out to snap the awkwardly tilted picture of him with a goofy grin, his hair soaking wet, his face pressed tightly against hers as she smiled.

Remember this? said the message accompanying it.

Every day.

Would love to see that silly smile in person.

Just look in the mirror, he messaged back.

You are a very funny man, Kimball Cho.

Over the past few weeks they'd texted each other every day, and called when they could, not an easy task, given his work schedule and the time difference. But neither of them had wanted to let this go, even though the situation seemed impossible. He was realistic enough to know that long distance relationships seldom worked, particularly this long of a distance, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from talking to her. It was sweet agony, and he knew they were both feeling it keenly.

Just then, his desk phone rang. "Cho," he answered, a smile in his voice.

"Hey," said James from lobby security. "There's an Italian National down here, claiming she's a friend of yours. You expecting anyone of that description? Although, if you aren't, I'd be happy to show her the sights…"

Cho was literally speechless. No freakin' way, he thought numbly.

He suddenly rose to his feet, his cell phone clattering to the floor. Rigsby and Van Pelt looked at him curiously, and from his couch, Jane smiled mysteriously.

"Cho? You there?"

He swallowed and found his voice over his tight throat, his pounding heart.

"Yeah. Send her up," he managed. He noisily hung up the phone and darted like a madman out of the bullpen. He almost plowed over Lisbon.

"Sorry, Boss," he said, but walked quickly for the elevator.

"What the hell's got into him?" said Rigsby around a bite of sub sandwich. He'd never seen his friend like that before.

"Aw, romanticismo," said Jane from his couch.

"What did you do?" asked Lisbon suspiciously.

"Just helping Cupid a bit," he said, grinning.

Van Pelt and Rigsby looked at one another, then wordlessly followed Cho out into the hall to see for themselves what had Cho behaving so uncharacteristically.

Lisbon walked over to Jane, who crumbled up his sandwich wrapper and grinned at his lover.

"Say, did you know it's Fashion Week in San Francisco?" he asked idly.

"No," she said, plopping down beside him on the couch and stealing from his bag of chips.

"Apparently this was news to a certain fashion designer in Napoli, as well."

"You are such an old softy," she said, desperately wanting to kiss him for his kindness in reuniting Cho and Serena. She resisted, though just barely.

He shrugged. "Don't let that get around," he said. "I have a reputation to protect."

"Don't worry. No one would believe it anyway."

She sat back against the couch, resting her head on his shoulder in a rare public display of her affection. They munched on his potato chips in companionable silence, waiting to see the rest of the show.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that week…

They'd finished their case closed pizza with the rest of the team, and Jane and Lisbon had gone home, to her apartment, exhausted. He'd moved in a week before, which made sense by then, since he'd been at her house every night and nearly every morning since they'd returned from Rome.

Lisbon tossed her badge and gun on her dresser in their bedroom, then shrugged out of her blazer jacket. She sat on the edge of the bed, then bent to take off her boots. Jane came into the room then, a wineglass in hand. He set it on the table and knelt at her feet, removing her shoes for her as she lay back on the bed. She sighed in ecstasy as he massaged her aching feet, her eyelids fluttering down to rest on her cheeks.

"Now I know why I keep you around," she said blissfully.

Jane grinned, continuing his work on her dainty feet.

"There are other reasons, I'm sure," said Jane confidently.

"You give great massages too," she said slyly, eyes still closed. "Awww," she moaned, as he found the tension in her left arch.

He laughed softly. "Yeah, right."

The last massage he'd given her had started as a simple shoulder rub as she'd sat in her desk chair late at night, finishing up the quarterly reports. It had ended with their slow, sensual release on the white couch he'd given her. So much for the height of professionalism.

He glanced at Lisbon's serene face, happy to see the lines on her forehead had relaxed. Soon she was on the edge of sleep, lulled by his tender ministrations, when he heard her mumble, not for the first time since they returned from their trip: "I wish we were still in Rome."

"It was lovely there, wasn't it?" he said soothingly.

"Oh, yes…the rain on the windows…the cruise down the Tiber…"

"Did you know, Teresa," he said conversationally, "that you have exactly sixty-two vacation days stored up?"

She opened one eye to look at him. "And how do you know that? No—wait. You bribed Laura in Personnel, right?"

"When will you learn to stop trying to look behind Oz's curtains? But that is neither here nor there. My question is, what are you saving those days for? Gather ye rosebuds, Lisbon."

"I was hoping to apply it to an early retirement."

He rolled his eyes. This woman would never retire.

She sat up on her elbows to better gauge where he was going with this. "What are you up to, Jane?"

He released her foot to reach into his inside jacket pocket, and she felt momentarily disappointed at the loss of his warm hands on her tired feet. He tossed an envelope on her stomach. It had the logo of a local travel agent on it.

"What's this?"

"Well, gee, Lisbon, you're a detective," he said with amused sarcasm. "What could you possibly do to find that out?"

She gave him a sour look, then sat up all the way to open the envelope. A brochure was tucked in between two first class airline tickets. Explore Romantic Tuscany!

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. "What the hell…?"

"You work too hard," he told her. "I've never seen you so happy and relaxed as our week in Rome. And you long for it every day, I know you do."

She met his eyes, and he was stricken anew (as he was every time) by the pure love he saw there. Neither could she deny his observations. "You know why Rome is so important to me."

He leaned up and softly kissed her. "Yes," he said simply. "But there's no reason we can't have more of that."

"Well, for one, we both live on civil servants' pay."

He stared at her a minute, then took a small, fortifying breath. "Remind me to tell you some day how much money I have stashed in untraceable safe deposit boxes all over California."

She didn't question him, knowing he must have saved that money from his wealthy fake psychic days. He'd grown up a relatively poor as a carnie performer, so the urge to horde must have been ingrained. She understood him well enough to know that after his family was murdered, he'd considered that blood money. But they were both looking at things differently these days.

"Oh," she said solemnly. "But that's beside the point. I can't just take off willy-nilly and fly to Italy once a month. They need me at work—they need both of us."

Jane nodded. "True. But they can spare us from time to time. I'm not saying that we do this every month. But I want you to promise me you'll start taking your full vacation every year, so we can do some fun things, like travel. There's much of Europe and even Asia that I for one would like to visit."

She stared at him a moment in surprise. He was thinking of them in the future, planning that they would still be together. She had wondered if the romantic feelings Rome had stirred between them would fade, or if he would have doubts that their love would last. His words had finally reassured her of his commitment.

"Okay," she whispered, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly, loving him with her entire heart. He squeezed her back with equal emotion.

"That's my girl," he said into her hair. "We found love in Rome. What say we try for amore a Florence, or amore a Pisa? Perhaps amore a Arezzo…"

He felt her small body tremble with laughter. "I love it when you speak Italian."

She pulled back from his embrace and he joined her on the bed. They lay on their sides, facing each other.

"Well, until we touch down in Italy again," she said, reaching for the buttons on his vest. "What say we discover some amore a…Sacramento?"

"Well, it ain't the Vatican," he said, nuzzling the sweet spot below her ear, pleased at her aroused shiver. "But I guess it'll do for now…"

THE END

A/N: It was so nice to go back to Rome, even if it was only through fantasy. Thanks so much for reading this and for your lovely reviews. Please look for the concluding chapters of "Red Roulette," coming soon, along with a special story project I'm working on with Nerwen Aldarion. Check us both out on Twitter for updates. Grazie!

Until then, arrivederci!

P.S. I took a little liberty with the date of Fashion Week in San Francisco. It's usually in September, I believe, not May.