Author's note: Written for the Paint It Red December 2012 Monthly Challenge - prompts: "mistletoe and wine" and "when lies become the truth".
Wherever I Lay My Hat (That's My Home)
He always misses them more on holidays. Even more so now that Red John is dead and gone.
Of course he doesn't regret that; what he lacks is the much needed distraction his drive for revenge used to provide. It helped him to think of something else rather than bittersweet memories of the past.
The fact that Lisbon has noticed all this goes almost without saying. She may not be as good at reading people as he is, but she can always tell when he's upset for some reason.
That's why she's subtly tricked him into spending most of his holidays with her.
Obviously she's been pretending that she's the one who needs company. Her brothers and nieces live far away across the country, and even a tough-as-nails cop like her needs someone to play family with from time to time.
As likely as not there's a grain of truth to her statement, but he's pretty sure that she's not so desperate to seek his company only because she's tired of being lonely. For one thing, she's far too selfless to do anything of the kind.
However, he never dares to call her on that. It feels so good having someone around for a change, if only for a day. Last Thanksgiving has been one of the best days he's had in a decade, and he's actually been looking forward to Christmas Eve ever since.
When he shows up at her door with a bottle of wine he's welcomed by a warm smile and the delicious smell of pumpkin pie. He's told her how good it tasted the last time she invited him in, so it's no wonder she's made that again.
After dinner Lisbon curls beside him on the couch and tells him stories about her childhood – how her brothers used to wake up at dawn on Christmas Day and immediately sneak downstairs to check that Santa didn't forget to leave a present for each of them.
All of a sudden he's not sure he can take this surrogate family thing anymore. Make-believe is too painful when he knows that tomorrow their little act will be over.
Lisbon trails off as she sees a tear trickling down his cheek. She wipes it away with her thumb before placing a lingering kiss at the corner of his mouth.
Perhaps they won't need mistletoe to make this dream come true at last.