Life Without You

A Jane & Lisbon Christmas Story

By Brown Eyes Parker

Summary:

The night before Christmas Eve, Jane learns that he needs to be careful what he wishes for, because it just might come true.

Disclaimer:

Charles Dickens and Frank Capa own the idea. Bruno Heller owns the Mentalist. So, I own nothing.

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"It was nothing?" Lisbon replied with a huff. "You wouldn't be saying that if you had to fill out all the paperwork that I do."

Jane sighed and rolled his eyes. "Here we go again with the paperwork. I always hear about the paperwork you have to fill out because of me."

"You certainly wouldn't like it if it were reversed."

"Look, if it's that big a deal, I'll apologize to the mall Santa," Jane said.

"An apology won't take the paperwork away," Lisbon replied coolly.

"You know, you've been treating me differently ever since you slept with Walter Mashburn."

Lisbon's cheeks burned bright red. "We're not talking about that!"

"I just thought that I'd bring it up since we were arguing," Jane replied bitterly.

Lisbon bristled, her hand reached for a pen. "Just shut up!"

"Why?" Jane asked. "You never shut up. You're always harping on me about something."

She was livid as she got to her feet and chucked the pen at his face. "I hate you Patrick Jane! I really hate you! Do you know what you've put me through these past few years."

"Does it have to do with paperwork?" Jane asked sarcastically. "You can fill it out during Christmas vacation. You don't have anything better to do."

Suddenly, Lisbon cracked. "It's NOT JUST THE PAPERWORK JANE! I'VE ALMOST LOST MY JOB SEVERAL TIMES BECAUSE OF YOU! I'VE BEEN SUSPENDED, SHOT AT, THREATENED, KIDNAPPED—"

"So, I've made your life a living hell," Jane said shrugging.

"I'm not finished yet," Lisbon replied icily.

"By all means then, continue."

"You know, last year, I thought that we were getting closer. . . "She stopped realizing what she was going to say. "Yeah, you've made my life a living hell."

"Well babe, it hasn't been all peaches and cream knowing you!" Jane said. "And I really wish I had never met you. Yes, I said it. . . sometimes. . . I mean, most of the time, ALL of the time. I wish we had never met."

All of the anger and fight suddenly left Lisbon, like air leaving a leaky balloon. "You don't really mean that. . . do you?"

"Yes, yes I mean it!" Jane answered. "I wish that we had never met!"

"Fine!" Lisbon snapped, going to her office door and opening it. "You can go now. Goodbye Mr. Jane!"

Jane left without replying, without even looking at her.

With all of her heart, Lisbon wanted to cry. But she didn't want to waste her tears on Jane. She had wasted enough tears on him already.

She went back to her desk and picked up a framed newspaper clipping of her and Jane, their arms were wrapped around each other and they were looking at each other like they knew the same secret. The headline read, Dynamic Agent and Consultant Duo Nabs Serial Killer.

It had happened about a month after she slept with Mashburn. Lisbon sighed and put the picture down. She picked up another frame, this one was of her and Jane at the CBI picnic three months earlier. He was dressed in his usual three piece suit, but she was wearing an Emerald tan top and canvas shorts. They had just won a race, and Van Pelt had captured them in a victory hug.

She had a desk full of pictures now, thanks to Jane. And she couldn't believe it, but it was over. She held the photo close to her heart, dropped her head to the table, and succumbed to the tears.

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"I don't need her," Jane told himself as he paced around his living room. "All that nagging about paperwork and ethics. . . nobody needs that. I'll be better off without her in my life. I'll put my notice in after the holidays and then I'll pretend that we never met."

He woke up a few hours later, sprawled out on his couch, his back and neck aching. He groaned and tried to figure out how long he had been asleep when he was aware of another presence in the living room. He grabbed something off his coffee table and sat up, ready to throw it ant the intruder, when his wife appeared in front of him.

"Hello Patrick," she said, smiling slightly.

"Angela. . . am I—"

"No, you're not going crazy," Angela answered. "You're not dead either."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"They sent me to deal with you Patrick."

"They?" Jane repeated. "And who, may I ask, are They?"

"Oh. . . a bunch of people," Angela answered off-handedly. "Really, there are too many to name. Now listen to me Patrick; before the stroke of midnight, you will be visited by three spirits. They all have something important to tell you, so listen carefully."

"What do you mean?"

"You wished that you had never met Agent Lisbon," Angela answered. "Well, these spirits are coming to show you what life would be like if you really had never met Teresa, or went to work for the CBI."

The clock chimed nine times and Angela was gone as suddenly as she had appeared.

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"Dad!" A voice whispered in his ear. "Daddy! Patrick Jane!"

He sat up quickly, the clock in the living room was chiming the hour. Telling that it was almost ten. He searched around blindly for his lamp. Finding nothing, he called out, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Charlotte Anne Jane!" A bright light filled the room. "Hello Daddy!"

"What are you doing here? And where's my bed?"

"You don't have one," Charlotte Anne answered.

Jane stood up. "What do you mean, I don't have one? Of course I do. . . I bought one after. . . what is that thing doing on the wall?"

"That?" Charlotte Anne asked, pointing to Red John's signature mark.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure that Lisbon and I painted it over."

"Yeah, well. . . funny story," Charlotte Anne answered, laughing slightly. "Come with me."

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"You know how you caught Red John a few months ago?" Charlotte Anne asked as they walked down a deserted street. "Well. . . you didn't actually catch him."

"What?" Jane asked. "Of course we did. . . he took Lisbon, and she called me. . . and I called the police."

"You never actually met Lisbon, or got a job at the CBI," Charlotte Anne answered. "So, naturally. . . Lisbon never got kidnapped, and you never caught Red John. So, he's still out there. . . hurting people. And besides the Red John case not getting solved there were lots of other ones that didn't get solved."

"They need me," Jane said. "Lesson learned, take me home."

TBC. . .