Okay, this was going to be much more angsty than it actually is. It's written a little differently than the other stories, divided into sections, but I think it's easy enough to follow. Also, there's a little nod to something VinnieK mentioned in her last review that I should do, the whole mistletoe scene. Sadly, it's not as in-your-face as you might like, but I thought I'd throw that in. : )
***
December, 2007
Jane hated Christmas.
He wasn't Scrooge or anything, but the holiday had changed for him. When he was a little boy, he would wake up his entire house at six-thirty on Christmas morning, still wearing his footie pajamas, and make them go downstairs to open their presents. When he was an adult, his little girl would wake up him and his wife at six-thirty, to go downstairs and open their presents. His wife had been big on Christmas—she would make pancakes from scratch on Christmas morning, and insisted on buying their daughter an inordinate amount of gifts, and the two of them would watch in satisfaction as she opened up each present with glowing eyes.
But that part of his life was gone now. He listened appreciatively as others talked about their Christmases; he smiled at little kids he saw waiting in line to see Santa. But it wasn't for him, the whole Christmas season, not anymore.
December 18th, 2007
They were between cases, it was a week before Christmas, and the Serious Crimes Unit was slowing down. Jane was sitting on Cho's desk in the middle of the afternoon, pestering him as he scribbled out the paperwork that he hated.
"Hey, Cho, did you know that by the time they die, the average person will have spent a full two weeks waiting for traffic lights to change?"
Cho didn't look up. "Not now, Jane."
Jane's eyes lit up, he stayed where he was. "I'm serious. And by the time you die, you'll probably have spent a good six years checking boxes on that paperwork."
Cho leveled him with a stare, stony-faced, giving away nothing. "So, what, is Lisbon getting boring?"
Jane laughed. "Why would you ask that?"
"Why aren't you sitting on her desk?" Cho raised his eyebrows ironically. "I hate to break it to you, but I'm not your type. I somehow suspect that I lack that whole wavy-haired, green-eyed, fiery tempered thing that you seem to like so much."
It took him a second to realize Cho was teasing him, and he grinned. "Touche." Then leaned back further on Cho's desk. "What are you doing for Christmas?"
Cho frowned, set down his pen. "Nothing exciting."
"Ah. Family dinner."
"How do you do that?" Cho was different from the boss. Whenever Jane read him, which was considerably more often these days, he wasn't annoyed by it. He found it amusing. Cho didn't have big things that he didn't want Jane to uncover; in that way, he was utterly unlike Lisbon.
"It's all over your face, man."
Cho laughed. "I'm going to go there, right? And they're all going to ask me why I'm not married yet. Every year I get closer to thirty, they go on about how I need to find a nice girl and bring her home."
A voice from behind surprised the two of them. "So why don't you? You're a good guy. You should see people, Cho." It was Lisbon, with a rare smile on her face, an unusual extra cheer in her voice. Jane noted it for later.
"I see people."
Lisbon tilted her head to the side, not believing him. Jane came to his aid.
"No, Cho sees people. Not seriously, he's terrified of commitment. But sometimes when he gets lonely, he goes out to bars and connects with other lonely women. Drinks with them, and wakes up at their apartment the next morning. Occasionally. Every few months or so, I'd say."
"Seriously. How the hell do you do that?" Cho gave an embarrassed laugh, looked guiltily at Lisbon. "And in front of the boss? Not cool."
Lisbon sat on Cho's desk too, next to Jane. "Well then, tell them you see people."
Jane shook his head. "Cho can hardly tell his parents that the only people he sees are random bar women that he doesn't take on actual dates."
"Exactly. That's why--" Cho stopped. Jane caught it, pointed at him.
"Come on, there's no self censorship between friends. Give it up."
Cho laughed. "I was just thinking of last year. My Grandmother asked me if I was gay."
Lisbon's eyes got wide, she jumped off the desk, suddenly laughing. Jane thought that he had never seen her look like that, and by the way Cho stared at her, he most likely hadn't either. "And what did you say?"
"What was there to say? I said I wasn't. I don't think I was very convincing." At the two judging looks he was getting from the other two, he pouted, leaned back. "Listen. Why don't you have a seventy-five year old woman ask you about your sex life, see how you answer?"
They all laughed.
December 20th, 2007
He snatched up Lisbon's hand suddenly, laid a quick kiss on her knuckles. He didn't release the hand as fast as she would have liked, but held it in his. She had to snatched hers away, eventually, looking around the squad room to see if anyone saw.
"What the hell, Jane?"
"Bored," he said, in that flippant tone he knew she hated.
"What the hell, Jane?" she repeated.
"I was just curious." he said.
"Jane..." she said warningly. Her face was faintly pink, her eyes were flashing. She was unexpectedly flustered, and he ate it up.
"Mistletoe," he said, gesturing with his head upward. "Feel lucky it was just your hand. I could do it over, if you like."
"Counting my blessings," she said, and was gone.
When he looked after her, she was grinning a little, thinking she was alone, thinking she was unreadable. But there was that little amused smile on her face that made him smile, too—that she more likely than not didn't realize was there. It was soft, it was sweet, gone in the next second.
He thought back on it later, as the day went on.
December 25th, 2007
It wasn't the Christmases he used to have with his family, but it also wasn't like the previous three he'd had. He wasn't eating wholesome family dinner with his wife and daughter, but he wasn't crying into a bottle of Jack Daniels, either.
It was something like improvement.
He'd treated himself to a nice, expensive dinner, by himself, eaten Calimari, sampled good wine. He'd gone to a movie earlier in the day, relaxed in the front row with his feet up, popped M&M's into his mouth. He went to the office to find it surprisingly open, laid down on his couch, closed his eyes. His bosses office was dark. He'd found out she had gone to Portland to visit an aunt. Cho's desk was empty.
His cell phone beeped, and he opened it to find a message from Cho.
She just asked me what my lover's name was. My LOVER. Please kill me.
He laughed. In Cho's way, it was thoughtful. It was saying, I know you're by yourself right now, but you have company. It was nice. Jane typed back.
So play along. Say his name is Eduardo. I think that has a nice ring to it.
He closed his phone, and lay back.
It beeped again.
This time, it was a message from Lisbon. It was a picture of a stubby Christmas tree with white lights on it. The message below it read simply, Merry Christmas, Jane.
He thought about it. It had been a normal day, not much special about it. No real ceremony, no tree, no family gathering. It was a typical weekend day, but not a bad one, not a horrible day.
He thought it was the best he could hope for.
***
Next Chapter: "Jane was a father."