December, 25th - Christmas Day

The first thing invading her dreams had been the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Smiling merrily, she snuggled deeper into her pillows and blankets when her mind told her that her breakfast was taken care of. She dozed back into sleep, though she didn't really enter the land of dreams again, but drifted away to the sounds of clattering dishes and cooking water that were to be heard softly in the distance.

"Hey, sleepyhead," a gentle voice, filled with light amusement, woke her some time later, "don't you want to get up today? It's Christmas." After yawning and stretching thoroughly, Lisbon cracked one eye open, only to find Jane sitting on her mattress, looking at her with a smile on his lips and a fond expression in his eyes, and holding a cup of coffee.

"You're a saint," Lisbon mumbled happily, sat up and took the cup from him. Carefully, she took a few sips of the hot liquid.

"Some people would disagree," he grinned, what caused her to smile, too. He was right; there weren't many people out there who would agree with her, but then, those people didn't know him. She wasn't claiming to know him either, but she had a good idea of his quirks and his way of thinking - and his heart. Because in his heart, he was a wonderful, compassionate man, even though he mostly tried to hide it.

"So, what are we going to do today?"

"What's normally done on this day. Gifts in the morning, a nice lunch at noon, some fooling around, and a Christmas dinner in the evening. I checked what you've brought. I think we'll have the best Christmas dinner in California."

"I hope so, it took me a good while in a terribly crowded supermarket to find all these things." She took another sip of her coffee, and a less happy expression settled on her face. "You were hopefully joking about the gifts, weren't you? Because I've none," she admitted sheepishly and looked at him apologizing.

"Actually, I wasn't joking. But don't worry, my best Christmas present - and my first in years by the way - is that you're here and that you remind me how wonderful Christmas can be. Besides, you've brought all the food. I'll take that as gift." He grinned winningly, then turned to pick something up that was lying beside him on the ground, shielded from her eyes by his body. Smoothing the small ribbon atop the little box, he turned back and presented it to Lisbon. "And since I didn't have that perfect idea with celebrating Christmas together and all, I can only offer this little thing. Merry Christmas, Teresa," he explained and placed the gift in her hand.

Looking at her consultant a bit shocked and slightly embarrassed, she carefully pulled the ribbon away and opened the box. And the first thing her mind offered her as a reaction to what she saw was a loud gasp.

Open-mouthed she stared at the stud earrings, neatly placed in black velvet. They were small, and would be almost unnoticeable when covered by her hair, but she liked that. Plain und simple, and yet beautiful; just as she preferred it. They were silver and held one stone of a rich dark green color. She didn't dare to guess.

"You didn't want the jewelry I had bought during the Vegas case, but I meant what I said back then - emeralds do look lovely to your eyes. I understand that the huge and heavy jewelry isn't your style, so I hoped you'd maybe like these," he answered her unasked question.

"I... I can't...," she stuttered, completely taken aback. This was not a 10 or 20 Dollar gift they might have given the other as a Secret Santa. This was expensive. And very personal.

"Yes, you can. Let it be... a promise." His voice had been so low that Lisbon had almost missed his words. She shivered involuntarily when she understood the meaning of them.

"Thank you," she breathed and in a hasty movement, she kissed his cheek, before pulling back, almost shyly avoiding his eyes. They sat there for a few minutes, Jane dealing with the tingling sensation on his cheek while Lisbon fiddled with her gift and tried to calm herself, before she announced, "Well then, I guess I should get up now; I might not have a real gift - one wrapped up - but at least I have a little surprise for you waiting in my car." Patrick, who already stood, offered her his hand to help her up, which she thankfully took.

"And that would be?" he asked curiously, skillfully covering up the bit of awkwardness and nervousness.

"Wouldn't be a surprise if I told you," she called out when she headed for the bathroom. She quickly changed and refreshed herself a bit before she joined him in the kitchen to drink the rest of her coffee and eat a toasted bagel he had prepared; then she left the house.

"Be back in a minute!" she informed him before she was through the door, not hearing his offer of help.

He was busy preparing a few things for their lunch when he heard her coming back inside. Curiosity took the better of him, and he peeked around the corner - only to immediately rush to Lisbon's side, who was carrying a fir of about her own size under one arm, and a brown box under the other.

"Why didn't you say anything? You can't possible carry this alone!" he reprimanded her and took the tree from her. "Where do you want it?"

"Living room, next to the fireplace. And I didn't say anything because I wanted to surprise you with this. I wanted to have everything ready before you see it."

"Then let's make a deal; I help you putting this thing up and then don't come back until you say you're ready. There's enough for me to do in the kitchen anyways."

"Okay," Lisbon agreed when he put the fir down on its foot Teresa had already adjusted before bringing the tree inside. As soon as it stood in the right place, exactly where she wanted it, Jane left, saying that he would pretend he hadn't seen anything, and that he would wait for her to call for him.

---

Lisbon turned up in the kitchen when he was peeling the potatoes, and she looked at him guiltily, apologizing that she hadn't been helping him with the meal. He only told her that it would be for her to take care of their dinner then, and she decided that she could very well begin with the preparations now, so that there wouldn't be too much to do in the evening.

"So, are you ready then?" Jane asked casually while he gave her another carrot to slice.

"Not completely, there's one thing I still need to do. But first we finish the preparations here." He didn't answer, but only watched while she chopped the vegetable. She had just shoved the vegetable pieces from her wooden platter into the bowl, when he announced:

"Good, then do whatever you have to do, 'cause for now everything's finished."

"Alright, then...," Teresa began, suddenly a bit nervous, "Um, it's Christmas... and... give me a few minutes. And don't you dare go into the living room!" He didn't have the time to react before she was gone; he only heard the bathroom door being opened and closed again.

When she reappeared about ten minutes later, he had to remind himself to breathe. She had changed from pants and blouse to a knee-length black dress with a square neckline, lined with dark green spangles. Her hair was open, only the outer front strands were held back with a small barrette at the back of her head - so he saw that she was also wearing the earrings he had given her.

"You look...," he searched for a word that would suit the picture, but had to realize that there wasn't any, so he simply went with, "beautiful." His gaze roamed and admired her body, and Lisbon blushed slightly when he didn't stop even after what seemed like half an eternity to her. Only when he chuckled, she finally moved to his side.

"What is it?" she asked curiously when she saw the amused twinkle in his eyes, and followed his look down to her feet. And also laughed - she was still wearing her slippers, the ones with the face of a deer, complete with small plush antlers. "They're more comfortable than heels," she shrugged and Jane felt the strong desire to pull her into a hug, but withstood that desire for now.

"I guess it's time for me to change, too," the blond man at her side said, but was instantly stopped by her hand on his arm.

"No, Patrick, please. It's nice to see you wearing something other than your suit," Lisbon told him, referring to his dark blue cashmere sweater he was wearing over his shirt instead of his vest and jacket. He looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then nodded slowly.

They ate in comfortable silence, not feeling the need to talk this time, but nevertheless also not having the impression of any kind of awkwardness. Teresa was glad that it didn't matter whether they were babbling away about everything that came to their minds, like they had done the day before, or they were just occasionally smiling at each other, but other than that were completely lost in their own musings and memories.

It was almost routine when they filled the dishwasher after they'd finished eating. Only this time, they didn't return to their seats in the kitchen; this time, Lisbon took Jane's hand and led him to the living room, made him wait a moment around the corner so he wouldn't be able to look inside, went and turned on the lights on the tree, and then called him inside.

His eyes, full of emotions, made every effort she had with all the planning and organizing worth it.

"That's..." For the second time this day, he felt at a loss for words. "Thank you. That means a lot to me," he continued after a couple of minutes simply staring at the Christmas tree, wonderfully decorated in tones of red and gold, and glittering in its own light that came from the small electrical candles, attached to the branches. There was even a star on top, and for only a moment, he wondered how she had managed to put it up there.

Teresa didn't answer; she simply smiled, walked over to him and took his hand in hers. Together they stood for long while simply watching the twinkling the decorations gave with every tiny change of light, and listening to Christmas songs playing on Lisbon's notebook.

---

In the evening and after their dinner, they settled onto Lisbon's sleeping square, leaning back against a variety of boxes they had covered with blankets and stuffed with pillows, thus resembling a sofa. The fire in the chimney was lit once more, as were the lamps on the Christmas tree, and a peaceful warmth filled the room and wrapped the friends and colleagues up inside.

They had been talking again about everything and anything, except for the less happy topics, and savored the taste of a fine red wine Jane had found in his basement. Now and then, their talk ebbed a bit, when both got lost in their own thoughts for a while, but soon they returned to their conversation.

There was another pause, and Lisbon's mind wandered to dangerous territory without her realizing it before it was too late. "Tell me something about your family," she suddenly asked, if not blurted out, and her eyes widened in shock at her own words. She hadn't meant to say that. They had been skillfully avoiding those topics, but now she had brought it up. Scolding herself inwardly, she looked up, with a hint of fear in her features - but, to her surprise, Jane didn't look angry or irritated at her, but only thoughtful.

"Okay. But I want to know about yours, too."

Teresa had to stop her mouth from dropping open. That was an interesting deal, and sounded only fair to her.

"The first Christmas with our daughter, about nine months old then, was the best in my whole life. The tree was standing exactly where it stands now," he nodded into their small Christmas tree's direction, "and my wife and I hadn't been able to resist - we had to spoil our little one. So there were loads of presents. When they were all unpacked, she sat in the middle of bunches of wrapping paper and ribbons, only her head and her arms still visible, and cuddled a stuffed animal; I think my wife and I never found out what exactly it was, but it looked like a mixture of dog, cat and bear. It was very soft and almost as big as our daughter; she laughed and squealed happily the whole time while we were watching her and taking photos."

Lost in the memory, Jane was talking and smiling contentedly, which Lisbon noticed with some surprise. Only when he finished his story and came back to the here and now, sadness settled on his features. It was more the movement of his lips she understood, than the actual words, because his voice was even too low to be called a whisper. Yet she didn't need to hear it; she knew what he was saying: "I miss them." It matched her own feelings about her family, and how much she wished they were still there, all of them. She loved her brothers, but she missed her mother; she even missed her father, despite all his faults during his last years, and despite him leaving her and her brothers alone in the end. They were her parents, after all, and she loved them, still loved them, both of them.

"We had a tradition - at Boxing Day's afternoon, we went out, my whole family, and we took a long walk. When there was snow, we took a sleigh with us, and we built a snowman, or we made a snowball fight. My dad and I against my brothers, and my mum would be the referee. We never managed more than ten minutes of this, because even this short time had us already laughing so hardly that we were just rolling on the ground. When we came home, my mum would make a huge pot of cacao, and we would sit in the kitchen, drinking the hot and sweet beverage, and talking and joking. I hadn't known anything else for 12 years of my life; it was a part of Christmas, like it simply had to be like this. When my mum died shortly before Christmas..." Lisbon trailed off and bit her lip to hold back the tears. She felt Jane pull her closer, silently offering her comfort when he kissed her hair.

"When I was a child, my mum told me a story," she silently went on, swallowing her tears, "It was shortly after the death of my grandma who I had loved dearly. My mum said, when someone dies, this person becomes an angel. And our thoughts will become little angels, too, accompanying the angel the beloved one is now. Angels don't have to fly alone; it's our memory that keeps them company. But we need to have happy, joyful memories - because the little angels are like our memories. The sad ones will become sad angels, as does every tear we shed, while the happy memories and every laugh sends out happy angels. That's why we should stop crying and think of the good times. So our beloved one will fly in the company of angels that will make him or her laugh. "

Jane looked at her, her words playing over and over in his head. Smart as he was, his mind didn't get the meaning of what she was saying. Did he have the right to be happy? Or was it rather his responsibility to send his wife and daughter happy angels to be with them?

Lisbon seemed to read his thoughts. Silently, she added, "Our families deserve the laughter. Yours, mine. And we both do, too. Think of the good times, but don't think of them yearningly and wistfully." She laid her hands over his and squeezed them lightly, giving back some of the strength he offered her with his embrace.

He didn't answer, but only pulled her even a bit closer to him, making her lean back against his chest. He knew she was right; he had known that for years. His wife for sure would want him to live on, and not to mourn and only wait for his chance for revenge. But he simply didn't have the strength to fight against those inner demons telling him to suffer from loss and guilt and to seek vengeance.

But then, there was the other side. That, since he had started working with Lisbon's team, a lot had changed; he had changed. His priorities. He knew it was a start, and he was proud of it, in some way. All he needed to do was to work on it.

When Jane felt his boss relax against him, he looked down, only to see her eyes closed.

"Teresa?"

"Mh?" was all he got as an answer when she pressed herself closer to him. A quick glance at the clock beside her camp told him that it was already quarter past one, and he decided that they could as well go to bed now; there would be enough time for further talk the next day.

Carefully, he laid her down, removed her deer slippers, smiling once more at the sight of these shoes that were so unlike Lisbon, the one he knew from work. He covered her with the blankets as he had done it the night before, and took the barrette from her hair. Gently he caressed her face for a moment, before he got up. The moment he stepped away from her little camp, she stirred and opened her eyes.

"Sleep, it's late already," he whispered softly, but she sat up anyways, and looked down.

"No, I have to get out of that dress first," she said and rose. She saw how he wanted to turn and leave, but held him back before he could take only one step. "Do you... mind waiting a moment?"

"No, sure." So assured, she hurried to the bathroom, changed and brushed her teeth, deciding against a shower as she was too tired and didn't want to let Patrick wait.

She returned to the living room to find him standing at the window, watching the dark sea. Coming up behind him, she took his hand to turn him around, and when he complied with her silent request, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He hesitated only for the blink of an eye, then he, too, encircled her with his arms, pressing her small form close to him.

"Thank you," she murmured, her head resting against his chest as she listened to his heartbeat.

"No, thank you," he replied, kissing her hair, before slowly releasing her. He walked her over to her 'bed' and helped her once more with the blankets. Also once more there was this moment of silently looking at each other; and again Patrick broke the moment. But when he got up this time, Teresa didn't let him walk away.

"Stay with me?" she offered, smiling gently at him, and held out her hand. He looked uncertain, not sure whether this would be a good idea, given the undeniable attraction and tension between them. But then, he knew that nothing would happen; they both wouldn't take, wouldn't want to take this step as long as demons of the past were chasing them; especially him.

So he took off his shoes, socks, and sweater, and joined Lisbon on the mattress. She pushed over a pillow when he slipped beneath the blanket, and he laid down on his side, facing her.

"Sleep well," Teresa whispered and took his hand, entwined her fingers with his and placed their joined hands between their heads. Then she closed her eyes.

"And you," Patrick whispered back, mustering her features. She looked so peaceful. A small smile lay on her lips, and the emeralds sparkled in the moonlight shining into the room, even though they were covered by the silky blanket of her dark hair.

For a few minutes, he watched her, saw her relax and fall into a peaceful slumber. Then he took a deep breath and also closed his eyes, the warmth of the small hand in his like the straw of hope he needed to hold onto.

He didn't ask for much. He didn't ask for his family to return, for holding his wife and daughter in his arms again. He didn't ask for absolution. He didn't ask for someone to take away his guilt, because he knew it was a burden he would have to live with.

What he wanted was, if only, a hand to hold.

Knowing that, whatever happened, there was someone he could rely one, someone who trusted him. Someone who liked him and even more, although this someone knew who he really was.

And he knew now that he had found someone like this.

And just for a moment, he was filled with a, though believed to be long since lost, yet familiar, feeling of happiness and peace.

FIN

... and Merry Christmas to you all!

With this story, I'm going to say Goodbye for now to The Mentalist. In near future, I might not or only occasionally write Ment fics (one shots), as I've started a bigger project. I've three ideas, three stories almost completely formed in my mind, and I intend to make fics of at least about 80.000 to 100.000 words of them - so that will keep me busy. :)

Thanks to all those who have been reading and reviewing my stories in the past half year! :)