Last Christmas
A Mashburn & Lisbon Story
By Brown Eyes ParkerSummary:
Inspired by Taylor Swift's version of "Last Christmas", with hints of Jane & Lisbon.
Disclaimer:
I don't own Mashburn, or Lisbon, or Jane. Or any of the (many) versions of Last Christmas. If I did own the Mentalist, I don't think I would have let "Red Hot" happen the way it happened.
Author's Note:
I really cannot believe that I – Brown Eyes Parker – am putting Mashburn and Lisbon's names together. Just because I am strongly against them. But a good writer can write anything, and so I am. Even if the end result isn't really Mashburn and Lisbon.
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"Don't look now, but Mashburn just showed up," Rigsby said to Van Pelt. It was the night of the CBI Christmas party, and they were having it at one of California's upper-class restaurants.
"Oh no! What's he doing here?" Van Pelt asked. "He's going to ruin Lisbon's entire night!"
Both Rigsby and Van Pelt's eyes went to the dance floor, where Lisbon was dancing with Jane,. . . totally oblivious to the billionaire and his silver-lipped, leggy, blonde, model date.
"Maybe we can have Jane distract her," Rigsby said. "He's usually good at that."
"That'll only work for so long," Van Pelt replied. "Besides that, you know how Jane feels about Mashburn. . . especially since—" she let the thought hang in the air unfinished. She was the only other person who knew that Lisbon had slept with Mashburn. "He just doesn't like Mashburn that much anymore."
"He's just jealous. He's used to being the center of Lisbon's attention. He can't stand it that she was actually interested in somebody besides him for two months."
"If you only knew," Van Pelt muttered.
"He also doesn't like the guy because he broke Lisbon's heart. . . not only is he incredibly jealous, he's incredibly protective."
"The guy deserves whatever's coming to him," Van Pelt told Rigsby. "Lisbon practically gave her heart to Mashburn on a silver platter. And the next day, she found out that he was sleeping with the German super model who tried to kill her."
Rigsby shook his head. "Some people never appreciate."
"Appreciate what?" Van Pelt demanded.
Rigsby turned Van Pelt to look at Jane. "The good thing that they already have."
.
"Mashburn!" Lisbon whispered, looking at Jane quizzically. "What's he doing here?"
"Maybe – now this is just a wild guess – he's here to have dinner," Jane answered.
"Ha, ha, ha. . . you're extremely funny Jane," Lisbon replied, not taking her eyes off Mashburn.
"Go and talk to him," Jane said. "It'll probably make you feel better."
"No, I really shouldn't," Lisbon said, trying to keep her distance. and hating it that Mashburn was still catching her eye. "He probably won't even know who I am."
"It's been a year. . . he sees a lot of girls," Jane replied. "It wouldn't surprise me. But go and talk to him."
"Are you sure?" Lisbon asked, looking at him with a trepidation. But she didn't have to make a move, Mashburn was already making his way through the crowded room and to her side. Lisbon hid behind Jane's back.
"Come on Teresa. . . dance with me," Mashburn said in way of greeting.
"Sorry, I have a date. . ." Lisbon laughed nervously, and attempted to make a joke. "Patrick Jane, meet Walter Mashburn."
"We've met," Jane said, inspecting Mashburn coldly.
"Hello Patrick! You don't mind if I steal your beautiful date for a few minutes, do you?"
Jane smiled was forced. "No, of course not. Have fun."
"Jane. . . you don't have to go—"
"Oh, let him go. All I want is one dance."
Lisbon distanced herself even more. "No, I don't feel like it."
"Oh come on," Mashburn said, pulling her into his arms, their lips only a whisper away from touching. "I've missed you Teresa."
Lisbon turned her face away from his. She was done being the fool, she knew if they kissed now, he'd only trick her again. She fell into the steps of an old familiar dance. "You've been well, I hope?"
"Sure," Mashburn said. "And you've been well?"
"Yes," Lisbon answered.
"Listen, Teresa. . . about last year, I'm sorry about hurting you that way—"
"I wish I could believe you," Lisbon said. "But the evidence is too incriminating. . . you aren't sorry, you aren't sitting in a hotel room pining over me. You didn't go away to escape me. You're here tonight with a bronze goddess. . . you probably fed her a line, charmed her with all of your empty glamour. And for Christmas, she'll wrap up her heart and give it to you. But then, you'll get bored and give it to the next girl."
"You're the one who told me that you only wanted us to be a one-time thing," Mashburn argued. "So, I'm supposed to drop everything because you changed your mind?"
"Oh Walter. . ." Lisbon said, looking up at him, her Emerald green eyes glittering with sadness in the white Christmas lights. "You understand so little."
"So, there's no chance that this Christmas you'll give me a second chance?"
Lisbon looked around the room, seeking out Jane and his gorgeous, tired, blue eyes in the crowded room. When she found him, standing by the bar, looking at Mashburn like he wanted to kill him. "I found somebody else. . . somebody special I can give my heart to this year. I won't cry over you again Walter."
"Understood," Mashburn said, leaning down and brushing a kiss against Lisbon's cheek. "Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing—"
"Just go," Lisbon told him, closing her ears so she wouldn't hear the Shakespeare coming from his lips.
Mashburn nodded, and bid her a Merry Christmas before disappearing to find his date.
.
"Where'd Mashburn go?" Jane asked. "I thought—"
"No. . ." Lisbon shook her head. "I learned from my mistake. This year. . . this year, I'm actually going to give my heart to somebody special. No more fooling around." She offered Jane her hand. "Dance with me?"
"Are you sure? You don't want to change your mind about going with Mashburn?"
"No," Lisbon said.
Jane gave her half-a-smile. "He doesn't deserve you anyways."
"Don't break my heart," Lisbon whispered.
Jane wanted to assure her that he would never break her heart, that he would be everything that she needed and more. But he wasn't a psychic, so he didn't know what the future held for them. And he didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep. But he smiled, touched her face gently, and said. "I can't promise you that. . . but I'll try not to."
"For today. . . that's good enough for me," Lisbon replied, titling her head upward to give him a gentle kiss on the lips.
"And maybe next year, I can give you more," Jane said, leading her to the dance floor. "Maybe next year, I can promise you that I'll never break your heart. But please, please be patient with me."
"I'll be patient," Lisbon promised.
"I love you," Jane said.
"And I love you," Lisbon replied, closing her eyes and letting him hold her safely in his arms for the rest of the night.
The End