Disclaimer: I'll own a whole lot of new stuff after today, but I doubt the Mentalist will be part of that.
A/N: Merry Christmas to dizzy - in - the - izzy. I really hope you like it.
The team sat in the booth at the diner, laughing at Rigsby. He'd dropped tomato ketchup on his shirt, typical of him, and Grace was attempting to get the worst of it off with a paper napkin.
"Wayne," she said in a serious tone, "you are a lost cause."
He looked wounded, but grinned after a few seconds. "Good thing I don't even like this shirt."
Cho rolled his eyes, unable to understand why anyone would keep, never mind wear, a shirt they didn't like. He shielded his eyes when Rigsby leant in to kiss Grace, who returned it, but kept her hand pushing him away so as not to get covered in sauce herself.
Lisbon and Jane groaned in unison.
"Guys," said the former, sounding disgusted. "You aware the rule about work was really just to keep it out of my sight?"
"Sorry boss," Rigsby laughed. "She's irresistible."
Jane faked gagging, sticking two fingers down his throat.
"I need another drink," Cho decided. "Anyone else?"
Lisbon nodded, unable to prevent herself from glancing at the couple across from her in disbelief. "Make it a double."
"And me," added Jane, leaning forward to get into the perfect position to kick Rigsby's shin. Unfortunately, he hit Grace's, who kicked back with the sharp toe of her heeled boot. "Ow!"
"You started it," she replied childishly.
"Lisbon," Jane whined.
She pulled an exaggerated thinking face, before slowly replying, "Well..... you did start it."
Cho returned, sitting the drinks down. "What age are they today?"
"Roughly three," Lisbon laughed, and Jane and Rigsby began to argue over the salt. "Three demented three year olds."
This ended the bickering. "I am not demented!" protested Jane.
"I am not three!" protested Grace.
Rigsby shrugged, and grabbed the salt while Jane was distracted.
Cho raised his glass, clinking it with Lisbon's. The others followed suit.
"To Christmas," said Rigsby, wrapping his arm around Grace' waist.
"To Christmas," she agreed.
"To time off work," Lisbon laughed, "and to looking after demented three year olds."
"To being looked after," added Jane, smirking as Lisbon punched his arm.
"To alcohol," Cho muttered as he looked around the circle of his co-workers, "and never agreeing to go out with any of you again." The clock in the diner ticked past midnight. "Merry Christmas guys."
Rigsby finished his drink. "Merry Christmas. I'm gonna go – Grace?"
"Coming."
Lisbon, Jane and Cho followed shortly after, exchanging their season's greetings.
The night was colder than usual, and Lisbon folded her arms against herself as she walked home with Jane. They arrived at his door, and she impulsively leant forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Flustered and slightly embarrassed, she muttered a "Merry Christmas," and turned to go.
He hesitated, then called after her, "Come in, Teresa."
"Jane.... I'm not sure that would be the best..."
"Please. Let me try to get you drunk, and flirt with you, and attempt to remember what I did with your present. Isn't that what Christmas is about?"
"My present?" she asked.
He grinned in that way of his, looking smug that he'd surprised her. "You didn't think I wouldn't get you a present?"
She shook her head with a slight laugh, "Sure, I'll come....... but to be clear, this is only for the present."
He shrugged, and the grin stayed fixed. "I can live with that."
My brain couldn't keep the three year old out........