A/N: Don't you just love December? There's a holiday at the end of every week, it seems.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Sadly. I'm still wishing, though. Would be a great Christmas miracle.
'We ran out of patience'
"I hate it when they do that," Van Pelt murmured.
The three of them were standing in the middle of the bullpen, arms crossed against their chests and their gazes fixed on their boss' office.
Words were flying from one end of the little room to the other. Jane was casually, though they all knew he was angry on the inside, sitting on Lisbon's couch, one leg over the other. Lisbon, on the other hand, looked angry on the outside, walking to and from Jane.
"What are they even fighting about?" Rigsby asked. Van Pelt shrugged.
"Nothing, probably. I heard them fighting yesterday about Jane eating Lisbon's sandwich."
"Is this the boss' fault or Jane's?"
"Both," Cho replied dryly.
Van Pelt sighed. "I want the old Jane and Lisbon back. Not the ones that would fight over literally everything."
"I sense a plan."
Van Pelt smiled, almost devilish, and nodded. "Okay, here's the idea..."
-YulianaHenderson-
"I just don't get your problem, you know that? It's just a sandwich! I thought we sorted that out yesterday!"
"We did. You're the one bringing it up."
"So?"
"What, 'so'? You're blaming me for starting a conversation that you started!"
Jane groaned, and Lisbon pinched the bridge of her nose. She stood and walked over to the little office kitchen, more than aware that Jane was following her.
Jane leant against the counter as he watched Lisbon pour coffee in her cup. They were silent for five minutes, and Jane was actually glad.
He hated fighting with Lisbon. She was the one person he cared the most about, and he hated that there was so much tension between them, because he didn't want there to be any tension. He wanted to banter with her, wanted to make her laugh so he could see that perfect smile of hers.
It was all his fault of course. He knew that. Lisbon may deny that it was his fault, but it was obvious. There was already hurt in her eyes even before he had broken her heart and betrayed her trust by leaving for six months, before sleeping with Lorelei and deceiving Lisbon.
He sighed, and crossed his arms.
That was when he saw it. A mistletoe was hanging in the middle of the kitchen, and if his ears weren't fooling him, he heard a soft chuckle coming from the bullpen.
He smiled a faint smile, but then, things clicked. And that made his smile falter.
It had been the team that had hung the thing there. It was the team that wanted him and Lisbon to make up. He realized in that moment that he and Lisbon weren't the only one hurting from these fights – it was the team as well. Because where the parents were fighting, the kids were too. He knew that from experience.
He sighed, and came to stand underneath the mistletoe. Lisbon sighed too, and turned around. When her eyes caught Jane's face, she averted her eyes instantly.
"Teresa," Jane whispered, and she shook her head.
"Do not call me Teresa."
"Why not?"
Lisbon swallowed, and looked anywhere but at him.
"Because it hurts," she whispered, and it felt as though she'd given him a slap in the face with her flat hand. He recognized the pain of his heart clenching, and thought it was almost real instead of just emotional pain. It just hurt too much.
She was about to turn on her heels and exit the kitchen, when Jane grabbed her elbow forcefully, which almost made her spill her coffee.
"Jane!"
"Don't do that, Teresa! Don't run away from the pain. I'm sorry I hurt you, okay. I really am. And I want to make it up to you."
"How?"
He took her cup from her, not reacting when she protested once again, and ushered her to the place he wanted her to be – under the mistletoe and in his arms.
She didn't face him though, but chose to look at his chest, as if that was much more interesting.
Jane fought the urge to slap himself. He put two fingers under her chin, making her look up, and just when their eyes were about to cross, she looked above him.
She immediately shook her head, and wanted to push away from him but he was quicker. He pulled her against him and linked their lips.
She didn't fight him, but didn't respond instantly either. It wasn't until he gently placed one hand in her neck and the other on the small of her back that she reacted. And how.
Before they knew it, the kiss was heated and passionate after years of staying away from each other, of denying that anything was happening between them and of keeping feelings contained. Jane pushed Lisbon into the direction of the fridge, never leaving her lips, and his heart almost exploded as he heard a small whimper coming from Lisbon – or maybe it was his, he wasn't sure.
They didn't stop until they heard a groan that was definitely not one of theirs.
They pulled away, looking at each other for a few seconds, both their cheeks flushed. Looking to the side after finally having the courage to tear their eyes away, they saw the team standing there.
Van Pelt was smiling brightly, her hands folded together under her chin. It almost looked as though she was crying.
Cho's arms were crossed, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
Rigsby had obviously been the one groaning. He reached into his jacket pocket and gave Cho something.
"But in my offense, it didn't look as if they would kiss. I mean, they were arguing seconds before."
"Right. Twenty bucks."
"This is twenty bucks."
"No it's not."
Rigsby groaned, and gave Cho something else. He then pointedly walked back to his desk, and Cho followed.
Van Pelt lingered around a few seconds more, looking proudly at her plan that had clearly worked out, before nodding . "You're welcome," she said, and left for her desk too.
When Jane looked back at Lisbon, she was looking him straight in the eye, her pair of emerald eyes now not so emerald anymore. Instead, they were dark with lust, and Jane took in a shuddering breath. She grabbed his hand and led the way to the stairs of his attic.
Jane knew what she was planning on doing, and frankly, he didn't have either the strength or the will to stop her. He too needed to get it out of his system as soon as possible, and since everybody in the office already thought they were doing it, why not make it official?
As soon as they were inside, they were on each other, only now kissing slower and more tender. She pulled him with her to the make-shift bed, sat down and made him stand between her legs.
"Merry Christmas, Jane," she whispered, and linked their lips again.
Yes, have a Merry Christmas indeed, Teresa Lisbon. Now, you're really getting it.
A/N: I hadn't intended this story to be so... suggestive, but it just happened and there's nothing that I will do about it. Any problems with it? I don't care.
Leave a review though, I would love to hear your thoughts!