A/N: Sorry this chapter is such a long time coming. I've been very busy lately. So here is the conclusion of this story. Thanks for those who reviewed the last chapter. I'm so glad you are enjoying my writing and taking the time to let me know your thoughts. Oh, and by the way, the end of this chapter flirts with the "M" rating, so be advised…

Chapter 8: Conclusion

The next morning, Teresa awoke to find that she had snuggled up to Jane in the night, one arm flung over his bare waist, her head pillowed on his chest. His left hand was in her hair, as if he'd fallen asleep while stroking it. She could hear his deep, steady breathing beneath her ear, the strong tattoo of his heartbeat, and she lay still, listening.

She sensed rather than felt his sudden awareness of her. He was awake as well, but he hadn't moved a muscle except for his heart, which seemed to skip a beat, then increase its pounding. She realized he was trying to control his breathing, not to give an indication of his wakefulness that might disturb her.

She smiled against his chest and knew he must have felt it, for his hand stiffened reflexively in her hair. She turned her head to look at him.

"Good morning," she said simply.

He opened his eyes, and then she was looking into them, solemn and still as doldrums in a blue-green sea.

"Good morning," he said.

They didn't speak anymore, as the night's events flooded back. His nightmare. His asking her to climb into bed beside him. It had taken a long time for both of them to fall asleep again, but it had been surprisingly comforting, feeling the other so close. She'd actually slept better than she had in days.

They stared at each other until a wave of warmth washed over them, and Teresa felt compelled to shift carefully forward until she was close enough to press her lips to his. His fingers wove into her hair, pressing her to deepen the kiss. It was slow and languid, the fire on a low simmer as they reintroduced themselves to one other, tongues lazily exploring, lips soft and seeking. But after a few moments, there was another decided shift, and the flame suddenly flared, her body desperately moving on top of his to get even closer. Her hands slid into his hair as well, a low hum of appreciation vibrating in her throat.

It was the sharp cry of pain against her lips that brought their kisses to an abrupt halt, and she pulled away as if she'd been burned, murmured apologies falling from her lips.

She sat up in bed and was about to move away, when his hand caught her forearm, staying her.

"It's okay," he said, his breath heavy, though more from their kisses than the accidental pain she'd caused. "It was just a twinge. My ribs…"

"Sorry," she said again.

His pain fading, a hopeful smile spread across his face. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

Her brows knit. "You? I thought you'd been angry with me."

"I was, for maybe a day. Then I thought you were mad at me for being mad at you…"

"I was never mad at you. Annoyed, maybe. Disappointed. Not mad."

Jane grinned sheepishly. "If I were still your psychologist, I'd have some serious doubts about my powers of perception."

Teresa smiled mischievously. "Why do you think I fired you?"

The hand on her arm slid up to her bare shoulder, teasing the edge of her tank top.

"You just wanted to get into my pants," he replied confidently.

She couldn't deny that.

"I still do," she whispered, her hand slipping beneath the covers.

He gasped as she traced the hardness she found there, his eyes darkening with renewed passion. He let her have her way with him a few moments, then, as his body tensed with desire, it also tensed in pain. His hand came down on top of the sheet to stop her.

"The spirit is more than willing, darling. Unfortunately, the flesh still has a way to go to catch up."

With one more gentle squeeze (and another gasp from him) she released him, then bent to kiss him softly to help ease the disappointment both of them were feeling.

"So," she began with forced brightness. "Need some help into the bathroom?"

"Yeah," he said. "Give me a few minutes to recover first, though."

She smirked a little and lay back on the bed. He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

This is worse torture than Katie's handiwork, he thought wryly. Not being able to make love to her.

"I'll make this up to you someday very, very soon," he promised, after a moment's silence.

"Yes, you will," she said, and brought his hand to her lips.

There were still some things they needed to discuss, still some wounds that were open slightly, though the one on his leg was healing nicely. For the moment, however, they were both happy to have the tension between them come from attraction rather than discomfort in the other's company. There would be plenty of time to talk later.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later…

"Pretend I'm your client," said Teresa, sitting at the end of the couch in the living room, Jane's legs propped up on pillows in her lap. The television was tuned to an old Cary Grant movie both of them had seen a million times. She muted it and turned her head to Jane.

"Okay…" Jane replied, his lips quirking in amusement.

"What would you say if I was sitting on your couch and told you I was to blame for the deaths of my family, and for a taxi driver and a young girl, when it was shown from a practical standpoint that I wasn't?"

He went still, and the humor faded from his eyes.

"Teresa…" he began, his tone cold with warning.

"Humor me, Dr. Jane," she said, equally serious.

He tried to sit up, but she held fast to his lower legs so he couldn't.

"You're going to keep me imprisoned on your couch until I talk?" He was beginning to get angry now.

"Yes."

"Why do you want to ruin the good mood of the past two days by bringing this up again? I don't want to talk about it."

"I gave up a great psychologist so I could be with you, Jane. But if you want a relationship with me, you're going to have to face this problem. I can't be with someone who is full of self pity, guilt, and denial."

"It's to be blackmail then." There was a reluctant touch of humor there at her audacity, but he was still stubbornly digging in.

"Yep."

He regarded her thoughtfully now, his anger abating a bit. Then he sighed. "Of course, as a psychologist, I would say that even though your feelings of guilt are irrational, that is the way you're feeling, so they are very valid feelings. You feel responsible for the deaths of four people. That's a big load to carry, especially when you know that logically, it isn't true."

"Hmm," she mused. "Interesting. And what would be my first step in trying to overcome those feelings?"

"Forgive yourself," he said simply. "Let it go. Get on with your life. You survived for a reason, etcetera, etc-" He swallowed hard over the lump in his throat as the truth of what he was saying at last sank in for him.

"Yes," she said, and she reached for his hand. Her eyes grew damp with unshed tears. "That's very good advice."

"It's going to take me awhile, Teresa," he said solemnly. "I can't ask you to wait for me."

"You don't have to ask," she said.

He was moving in the right direction, and it wouldn't be fair to ask him to heal more quickly than he was ready for. If either of them forced this, she was fairly certain it wouldn't take, and it might even set him back. She released his legs and slipped from beneath them, kneeling down beside him at the other end of the couch. She touched his face, and he pulled her closer, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss of gratitude.

"Despite what I've heard," she whispered against his lips. "You are a very good psychologist."

His soft chuckled vibrated pleasantly near her ear, and she shivered with want. He became distracted with her earlobe, then the soft skin at the nape of her neck, while her fingers invariably found the smooth curls of his glorious hair. They made out like teenagers for a few heady moments, their lips and tongues teasing one another in a sensual dance. It was probably a good thing the knock on the door distracted them, for Jane knew there was no way he'd be able to follow through with those passionate kisses. Not yet, at least.

Teresa stood up reluctantly and went to the door, looking through the peephole before opening it.

"Huh," she said in surprise. She glanced over at Jane and mouthed, Cho.

She opened the door.

Besides Cho, Hannigan and Rigsby were there as well.

"Hi guys. This is a surprise."

"Boss," said each member of her team as they filed inside.

"Look, honey," said Jane with mock brightness. "The whole gang came over to cheer me up."

Only Rigsby smiled. "You're looking better than the last time we saw you, Dr. Jane."

"I am better, thanks to Agent Lisbon's tender loving care."

Teresa frowned, then gave Jane a warning glance. Jane's grin widened.

Her small living room only had two chairs, and Jane was occupying the entire couch, so Cho helped her bring in two more chairs from the kitchen table.

"So, what's going on?" she asked them, when they were all seated.

"They're having trouble deciding who dunnit," Jane said intuitively.

"But how—" Rigsby began.

"Lucky guess," said Hannigan in annoyance. "Yeah, we think the man's wife could be the killer, but then there's the guy's business partner…"

Hannigan described the case and the horrific murder by fire. Rigsby, the arson expert, had assured them it hadn't been an accident.

"You have any pictures of your suspects?" Jane asked.

Cho had been holding the file and he handed it to Jane. Jane took a few moments to examine the two 8x10 glossies, one of which was of the married couple.

"It's the wife," Jane said positively.

"How can you tell?" asked Teresa, moving to look over his shoulder.

"She hates her husband. It's in the eyes."

"Well, we'll need a little more than it's in the eyes to get an arrest warrant," said Hannigan.

"You'll find evidence of the crime probably in her gym bag at whatever gym she goes to for yoga class," said Jane confidently. They didn't even bother to question how he knew she did yoga. "Plus, he was probably having an affair, and she found out, so look for a girlfriend as well."

Cho glanced at Hannigan and Rigsby, his face changing only fractionally. Jane caught it and laughed.

"Cho agrees with me, eh? So, how much was the bet?"

Rigsby looked sheepish. "Twenty bucks."

"Well, I suggest you guys go check her locker at her gym," said Teresa. "And see if you can track down the girlfriend."

"On it, Boss," said Rigsby.

The men left, wishing Jane a speedy recovery, Hannigan giving Teresa a speculative look. It was obvious to the veteran investigator that his boss lady wasn't just helping out a guy down on his luck. She returned his look with a cool, expression that clearly told him, none of your damn business.

Teresa returned to the couch, gently lifting Jane's legs so she could sit comfortably beneath the pillow that supported them.

"Come work with us," she said simply.

"Hmph," was his noncommittal response.

"Look, you're good at this, and I could see on your face how intrigued you are with a puzzle to solve. You could help us put a lot of bad guys away."

"There isn't some rule about dating your coworkers?"

Teresa blushed. "Is that what we'd be doing?"

"Yes," said Jane, meeting her eyes with a quiet intensity.

She swallowed, her heart picking up speed. "I'm not sure, but if you were hired on as a consultant, the rule about dating fellow team members might not apply to you."

"You think Minelli would be onboard?"

"Let's wait and see if your guess is right about this case, and if it is, he'll probably be over here himself to beg you to join."

Jane was quiet for a few minutes, turning the possibilities over in his mind. Teresa moved in for the kill.

"My ex-psychologist told me once that I was probably depressed because I was doing the same old thing all the time. I needed to be out among people, away from my work. Try new things…"

"This guy sounds pretty good. Maybe you shouldn't have fired him."

"Oh, but I'm cured now. See how happy I am?" She smiled warmly and leaned down to kiss the top of his bare foot.

It was then she discovered Patrick Jane's greatest secret—he was ticklish on his feet. He instinctively jerked his foot away from her lips, then groaned as the pain shot through his leg, then vibrated up through his sore ribs.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she exclaimed, but she couldn't keep that smile from her lips. He caught the mischief in her eyes and gave her a vengeful look.

"One day, Agent Lisbon, I'm going to be healed completely, and I will exact my revenge for all the teasing and pain you have inflicted upon my person. And be advised, I have the memory of an elephant."

"Oh, Dr. Jane," she said. "I can hardly wait."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two months later…

Jane awoke early and looked at the bedside clock. A half-hour until the clock radio would play their morning wake-up call—some silly pop song that would stay in his head and torture him the rest of the day at the CBI when he was trying to focus on more important things.

Beside him lay Teresa, her deep breathing and occasional twitching indicating she was likely in the middle of a dream. He hated to wake her, but he wanted her with a sudden passion that amazed him every time.

He'd been slowly paying her back for the past month now, since the doctor had given the all clear to resume normal activities, and awakening her in the early morning (and sometimes in the middle of the night) had become his favorite method of vengeance. She'd complain a little, upon first awakening, but soon she'd be crying out his name and neither of them would have any regrets about the loss of sleep.

He decided to start this morning under the covers, his hands still nimble and deft, utilizing the remembered pick-pocketing skills from his carney days in an entirely different way. She came awake on a moan of ecstasy, and his mouth found her bare breast beneath her sleep shirt, drawing out her pleasure while she gasped and gripped his shoulders convulsively.

And then he was sliding his hardness into her infinite softness, his mouth finding hers in a kiss so deep and searing, he felt as though he were completely melting into her body.

"That," he said later, as they lay on their backs, still panting from their sensual exertions, "was for that time you gave me a sponge bath—without the sponge."

She grinned at the memory, her eyes still closed, chest rising and falling in time to her pounding heart.

"When do I get that extra half-hour of sleep back?" she said with mock annoyance. "Aren't you finished with this payback thing yet?"

"What can I say, Teresa? I'm a vengeful person."

"A little on the obsessive side too," she added.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have tickled my feet so many times. I warned you about karma."

She turned on her side to look at the man who had occupied her bed as well as her heart for the past three months.

"Well, somewhere along the line, I must have done something right, because here you are."

His face stretched into the familiar smile she loved so much, and he mimicked her pose, facing her. "Flattery will get you nowhere, my dear. It certainly won't reduce your sentence."

"Can't I give you a lovely compliment without you assuming I have some ulterior motive? You really must have some self esteem issues."

He chuckled. "No one has ever accused me of lacking self esteem. Usually, it's quite the contrary."

"Like I said…problems…"

She grew quiet, and her face softened as she looked at him with an emotion he was beginning to see more and more often, though he was fearful to name it. "Well," she began again, "would it inflate your ego too much if I told you that I—I love you?"

Neither of them had said the words out loud, and hearing them fall so sweetly from her lips, so unexpectedly, made his heart stop in his chest.

"Yes," he managed in an awed whisper. "I feel it swelling beyond capacity at the moment."

She grinned, moving to cover his body with her own. "Are you sure that's just your ego?"

He laughed and rolled her over until she was pinned beneath him once more. His hands framed her face, reveling in the smoothness of her cheeks, the sleekness of her hair.

"I love you too," he said, delighting in how her green eyes glimmered at his words. "And I'm so glad you sought professional help once upon a time. It was the best thing that ever happened to me."

"To both of us, Dr. Jane," she said, her hips rising to meet his. "To both of us."

THE END

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this story. It's fun for me to think of them in a new way, and keeps me inspired to keep writing for this fandom. Thanks to all of you readers who took a chance on this AU. I'd love for you to go back and read some of my older fics (along with my current collaboration with Nerwen Aldarion, "Double Talk), if you are new to my writing. Hopefully it will help pass the time until we see some actual Jisbon on the show. It WILL happen, fellow shippers—I feel it in my bones!