A/N: Indeed you read that right, this is in fact a Christmas story. A very belated one, just some Jisbon fluff. I wrote a story that ties in with the Christmas story in the 3th season. I had some trouble finding time to finish it and my wonderful bèta Northernlights94 was so wonderful to still correct it for me! For which I'm always greatful! Enjoy!
"No, you can forget it. He's drunk; you're not going to do this now!"
"It's okay, Lisbon. I can handle it." He chuckled.
"The hell you will, I'm not gonna let you." She bit back.
"They say that drunken men only tell the truth." La Roche added creepily.
"Yeah, well this one will only be more of a pain in the ass than his normal self and will try everything to make a fool out of himself and you."
"He can't evade me forever, rather sooner than later he will have to answer my questions."
"And he will because I will personally escort him to your office the day after Christmas." Lisbon assured him.
La Roche made a grunting noise and left. That man kept giving her the creeps, she thought while shuddering, glad to see him leave Jane alone for the time being.
She smacked Jane's arm.
"Ouch! What was that for?!" His speech still slurring.
"For almost getting yourself into trouble with La Roche! You're not exactly in your right mind at the moment!" She hissed at him.
He waved his hand clumsily in the air.
"Meh, that's hardly true, you heard what I did back there. I couldn't have done any of that if I didn't have myself under control."
"That may be true, but your biofeedback tricks will only get you so far. If you say something stupid in front of La Roche, I may not be able to help you."
He let out a very loud yawn.
"Just bring me back to the attic, would you?"
She stood still for a second; she didn't think it was a great idea to leave Jane alone tonight. She'd thought about it before they'd begun the op, but had pushed it away; however now she had to make a decision. She sighed.
"Jane, I'm not going to take you to your attic, you're staying with me."
The thought of Jane asleep in her house would probably keep her awake all night, but so would worrying about him being alone. At least it would give her a little peace of mind.
"I am?" He asked, sounding a bit surprised.
"Yes, you are. You're drunk and I just want to make sure you'll get through the night all right. That, and it's Christmas eve, nobody should be alone tonight."
He held up his hands.
"I surrender, but I don't think sleep comes much."
"Maybe if you'll sleep in a real bed and not some gross motel bed, or a makeshift bed in a stuffy attic, or a scruffy old couch, you will."
He needed to hold on to her for support, making his way towards the car.
She'd already made up her mind; he was going to sleep in her bed. They were adults and he needed a good night's sleep and she some needed reassurance he was all right. Even if it meant torturing herself with his body so close to hers.
The ride had been quiet; her consultant had kept his eyes and mouth shut the entire time. She helped him out of the car and together they stumbled to her door. The bitter thought entered her mind that this would be the first Christmas in more than a decade that she wouldn't wake up alone in her house on Christmas morning.
As she finally opened the door, a sea of twinkling lights greeted her from her suddenly cleaned up apartment. A perfect and fully decorated tree stood in a corner, beneath it; tons of neatly wrapped up packages.
She felt Jane shift his weight to stand on his own.
"Merry Christmas, Teresa." He whispered in her ear.
She could swear he hadn't sounded as intoxicated as before. Hastily she turned and almost crashed into him, his lips to be more precise. His arms stopped her just in time and his hand found its way to her cheek, red hotness ran through it as he touched her skin.
"Jane…how did you?" Words seemed hard to find all of the sudden.
His voice was soft. "Because you haven't had a Christmas morning in years, you deserved one."
"But…" He hugged her and sniffed her hair.
"You smell nice, always like Christmas." She let out a heavy sigh; clearly he was still under the influence of alcohol.
"Come on." She took him inside and after closing the door took a moment to admire the entire splendor that momentarily was her living room.
"I knew you wouldn't have had dinner, so I made some…" He was distracted for a moment, had forgotten what he was about to say. Apparently he wasn't as good at holding his liquor as he'd tried to make her believe before. "Uhhh, fridge?" He swallowed, while she studied him with a broad smile.
"And tomorrow I'll make you breakfast!"
"You bastard, you knew I would invite you over!" She slapped his upper arm, only half angry. Because how could she possibly be angry after all of this...? A lump formed in her throat as her eyes wandered to the tree and all of the presents. He wanted to make her breakfast, thought about her dinner, got her a mountain of presents and with it the best thing that had been given to her in years.
"Even if you hadn't, I'd still have done it, just so much better now." He whispered drunkenly.
"Jane…"
"Why?" He asked and was answered with a nod.
"Because life should not be all about suffering, Christmas is supposed to be a time to celebrate, rejoice about lighter times ahead. I thought we both deserved a little happiness."
She gazed into his eyes; had she ever seen him so soft and vulnerable?
"Oh, Jane…" Her voice cracked up at the sweetest gesture ever given to her.
"Thank you, for being my friend, Teresa." His face came even closer to hers and she imagined he would peck her cheek. Instead his lips came colliding with hers as he stumbled and lost his balance. She nearly managed to catch him before he fell, shocked at his move. He then proceeded to kiss her again, but his lack of coordination made it feel like she was slobbered by a dog. She took him by his collar and dragged him to the couch.
"Stay!" She ordered and walked to the kitchen.
His eyes were shining and he wore a ridiculous smile beneath it. "I love it when you're so bossy."
She grabbed both of them a glass of water, her hands trembling, trying to keep her breathing steady. This was so not happening she thought to herself and gulped down her glass in one take. Taking a deep breath she silently prayed he wouldn't remember a thing in the morning. She was determined to forget this ever happened, shoving his behavior under the effects of the alcohol because a sober Jane would definitely not have done that!
When she came back to the couch she found a sleeping Jane in a very uncomfortable position. Softly she patted his arm.
"Jane?"
"Huh?" He moaned.
"Let me take you upstairs."
She left him standing in her bedroom for a second, first making sure he wasn't going to fall anytime soon. Drawing the covers open she heard a metallic sound from behind her, she turned her head and was greeted by a shirtless Jane fumbling with his belt.
"Uh, Jane?" She asked alarmed. "What are you doing?"
"Ready for bed making." He giggled.
"Without pants?" This was pure torture; having Jane sleep in her bed was one thing, but an almost naked Jane was something else entirely.
"Always naked, you're just a prude." He grunted and dropped down his pants revealing a pair of tight fitting black boxers making her look away in embarrassment, while being pretty sure her cheeks had turned the color of ripe tomatoes.
"I'll be right back." She mumbled, grabbing her sleeping jersey and headed quickly for the bathroom.
"Prude." He mocked her again.
After changing she studied her image in the mirror, was she really such a prude? She made a swift decision not to be and to show him that she wasn't, not really.
With her newfound courage she returned to the bedroom. Jane was seemingly asleep, hidden under her warm covers, only a few plucks of his hair visible. She slipped in from the other side and found his hands tugging her towards him, a satisfied sigh followed as he snuggled up against her. Surprisingly she had no trouble falling into a deep dreamless sleep.
He woke up with a throat feeling like sand paper and a throbbing headache. He couldn't remember climbing into bed and he moaned as the pain worsened at his stirring. A soft hand brushed a few locks of hair from his forehead.
Lisbon, he could smell her familiar scent as he breathed in.
"Good morning sleepyhead."
He managed another groan and let the corners of his mouth curl up a little.
"I've got some water for you."
Slowly he opened his eyes and was rewarded with Lisbon's rosy cheeks and tussled hair, wearing only the football jersey he'd seen her wear before. He wanted to tell her she looked adorable, but found his tongue had turned into the Sahara. She reached over him, brushing her braless chest against him and making him realize he was lacking his shirt. She brought a glass of water back from the side table and carefully handed it to him. Something else besides his head also started to throb painfully, apparently the alcohol of the previous night still hadn't entirely left his system. He found it very hard to get his biofeedback mechanisms to help him out. The fact that wasn't wearing any pants didn't help either.
He gulped down the entire glass of water and found himself regret it instantly; he wasn't completely certain his stomach would decide to keep it in.
"What happened last night, after you took me home?" He barely managed to bring out.
"You kissed me and then pretty much immediately fell asleep on the couch." She giggled.
"I helped you get upstairs, where you started undressing and claimed you always slept naked but would keep your underwear on because of my prudishness, after which you started snoring so loud I was afraid the tree downstairs would just fall down on its own."
"Did I now?" Despite the headache he laughed bit.
"Yeah." She told him with a sweet smile.
He remembered how he'd promised to make her breakfast and how he'd brought stuff to lessen the potential headache he was now really suffering from.
"I was gonna make you breakfast."
"How about we make brunch together? And you find something to get rid of that headache first!" She pointed at his forehead.
"Never said anything about a headache."
"Like those wrinkles didn't tell me all I needed."
"Fair enough."
She got up out of bed and summoned for him to follow her.
That's when he realized his predicament and failed to hide it from her.
"Something wrong? Should I help you get up?" She was already making her way to his side of the bed.
"No, that's okay." He tried to assure her.
"I just need a moment, please."
Her eyes went from his to the way he was clutching the duvet and smiled knowingly.
"All right, see you in a 'moment'."
He watched her beautiful legs walk out the door first before getting out and slowly began to assemble his clothing.
He came downstairs to find Lisbon, still in her jersey, making scrambled eggs while humming a Christmas tune. He observed her taking a sip of coffee while pouring some cream with the eggs; she made small dance moves with every step she took.
"You're making me breakfast? I thought we were making brunch together?" He probably sounded a bit disappointed, and wondered if it would hurt her feelings.
She just turned and smiled. "First your eggs, we can make everything else later. But what is that green stuff in the sachet over there? It looks gross."
"You have a blender, right?"
"Yeah, so?" She questioned.
"Those powders are magically going to cure my hangover."
"Oh, really?" She asked, disbelief dripping from her tone.
"Yes, I'm sort of making a banana smoothie with them."
"I have bananas?"
"On the fridge."
"But the green stuff, what is it exactly?"
He shrugged. "Some algae, green wheat powder and a few other things that will restore the damage done to my poor body."
"Whatever, as long as I don't have to drink it, you can have green smoothies all you want."
"You should try it sometime; it's really good for you."
"I bet, still not interested though." She scraped the egg out of the pan and onto a plate. Together with a mug filled with tea she settled it down in front of him on the table. She got her own mug and took a seat next to him.
"Mmm…" He moaned out of pure delight.
"That good, huh?"
He pulled her by her arm to him and kissed her on the cheek, making her temperature rise and butterflies started to fly around in her stomach.
"You little…how have you kept your cooking skills from me all this time?!" She chuckled.
"I know how you like them, but you always add water but my mom used to make them with cream, therefore I do too."
"And here I was, thinking all this time you only lived off take out, frozen pizzas and microwave meals. "
"I'm afraid most of the time that's true, it comes with the late hours of the job. But if we have a day off I have a habit of cooking myself something very nice."
"I really hope that by something really nice you don't mean steak and fries."
"Sometimes, yeah. But mostly I make some newly found Italian recipes. "
"Spicy pasta, huh?"
"Arribatta, I made it once and really liked it, now guess what my favorite is."
He stared at her intensely while chewing his last bite of egg.
"Fresh pappardelle with beef and red wine ragu, maybe with some salad as a side dish."
"Nope." She teased.
"You're not gonna tell me, are you?"
"Nope." She repeated, now with a full blown grin.
"You little…"
"What if I just made it for you?"
"When?" He asked as he stood up and went to wash his plate.
"First weekend when we manage not to get a case I'll cook you some delicious dinner."
"I like it when you go all domestic on me, Lisbon."
She was going to get her coffee mug refilled and swatted him playfully on the arm.
"As long as you keep in mind that I can still kick your ass."
"I will."
"Good."
He made his awful looking smoothie and suggested they go sit in front of the tree.
Her eyes went to the large tree, the image of presents beneath a Christmas tree was something she'd never experienced in her house before. It was something that seemed to belong in shopping malls, with fake tress and fake presents, just serving as a decoration.
"They're real presents?"
"Of course." He raised an eyebrow and the left corner of his mouth, but it left again when he found her expression to be one of astonishment.
"When was the last time you celebrated Christmas with your family?" A look of hurt spread across her features.
"A little over a decade ago; my brothers got into a huge fight and eventually blamed it all on me." She mentioned softly.
He felt the sudden need to envelope her into a bear hug. It had been quite a few years since he'd enjoyed a Christmas with his family, but it had been in peace, surrounded by warmth and love. He took her hand, bringing her to sit down in front of the tree and kneeled next to her.
"Are they all for me?" She asked warily.
"Most of them, yes. But, I also found the presents you got me, but were still doubting ever to give me." He added with a broad smile.
"But…" Her eyes went to the mountain of presents and indeed recognized some packages which were supposed to be at the back of her lingerie drawer, the bastard.
She just blushed and reached for a package. "Hmm…" Was all he commented.
Inside, she found a knee length black dress she'd lusted after when they were solving a murder at a shopping mall just a few weeks ago.
She gaped at it for a second with open mouth.
"How did you..? I barely looked at this!"
"Long enough for me to notice, my dear."
She shook her head chuckling. "I'm not even gonna ask how you knew my size." He beamed her, a huge smile.
"You never would have allowed yourself to buy something so unpractical."
"No, I wouldn't have. Thank you." She said with sincerity and gave him a peck on the corner of his mouth.
He grinned. "If you keep doing that with every present…" He was rewarded with a playful swat on his arm.
"Shut up, Jane."
She searched through the pile and presented the found treasure to him.
The package was a square box and he was a little vague on its contents; too big for cufflinks, too heavy for a tie, he resisted the urge to shake it.
Inside the box he found a silver pocket watch, while it was polished it was obviously a vintage piece, on the back he found the initials 'P.J.' engraved.
Lisbon's red cheeks gave away her insecurity about the present, but he was too busy studying the watch to notice.
"I was at this antique market once, and this just kind of called your name, then I noticed the initials on the back and knew I just had to buy it for you, even if I hadn't an occasion to give it to you. Do you like it?" She asked hopefully, after a moment of silence.
He kept his stare fixated on the glimmering piece of silver in his hand. He snapped it open, and for a second she thought she imagined a glister of tears in his eyes.
His voice came out a little strange.
"My grandfather was also called Patrick and of the few memories I have of him before he died there is this one where I sat on his lap and he pulled out this watch and he said to me; 'Time goes by so much faster than you can now imagine, cherish every moment you have; with every person you love because it could always be your last. Life is too short for missed chances.'"
The muscles in his forehead tensed. "I think he died only a few days later, and while he'd promised me the watch would be mine if he passed, my father told me they couldn't find it anywhere. I always just assumed he'd lost in a poker game, which might not have been far from the truth after all."
His eyes went to Lisbon. "You have no idea what this means to me. Thank you so much."
He stroked her cheek with his finger before kissing it softly, after which he stayed inches from it.
"He was right you know, time does go by so fast and you're the person I should cherish most of all." His whisper was hoarse, making her too afraid to turn her head and face him. She had completely forgotten how to breathe and gasped for air right before he took possession of her lips with a kiss that evoked electrical signals all the way to her toes.
She responded accordingly, letting him deepen their kiss while one hand wandered to the curls in his neck, her other went for those just behind his ear, softly tugging at them.
Whatever would happen next, this was going to be one hell of a Christmas.
A/N: What did you think? Reviews are just as welcome as Christmas presents!