A/N: This story is finally starting to wind down. Which is good for me, because I'm thinking about another one. And also, because it's been a long time coming. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Don't worry, there's at least two (probably more like three-four) to go.

Chapter 14

xxx

The next evening, Lisbon was curled up on her couch, eating takeout with one hand, reading Jane's letter with the other.

She'd had a lovely week off, but she was looking forward to finding her routine again. At least she was trying to. She hoped Jane's letter would help with that process.

x

Modesto, California,

Dear Teresa,

I hope my letter finds you home, safe and sound, (and if possible relaxed) after a wonderful Christmas. I'm sure that the subset of the Lisbon family had a wonderful time together. I can just picture the three of you crowded around a tree, opening presents. Closely followed by you and your brother squabbling over who was in charge of making which part of the dinner. While Annie tried very hard not to laugh. I doubt she succeeded. I hope you punished her by making her peel potatoes.

You'll be pleased to know, Teresa, that even yours truly wasn't alone for Christmas. Your choice of Stockton as a city to mail my present to was rather inspired dear, due to its proximity to Modesto. And who do you think was in Modesto this Christmas, dear? Pete and Sam. So I had people to have Christmas dinner with. I provided the pumpkin pie. Store-bought of course, but still good. I doubt my holiday meal was as enjoyable as yours though. I was subject to several disapproving looks, whereas, chez Lisbon I'm sure you would have been the one giving them if any were needed. Well, you or Annie. She seems quite judgemental of late. Probably a teenager thing.

But I've gotten ahead of myself in my Christmas tale. Because before dinner, in my hotel room that morning there was something under my tree. At least, that's where it would have been if I had a tree. It was under my metaphorical tree, because you sent me a present. Before I sent you yours I was vaguely concerned that you'd be scolding me in your next letter for spending too much money on you, or spoiling you, or some such nonsense. Then I picked up your box from the Stockton post office.

The elderly woman who brought it out from the back teased me about it. She seemed to think I must have been rather a good boy this year. You and I know different though, don't we?

It's like you decided to compensate for the fact that you knew no one else would send me presents by buying them all yourself. You didn't have to do that Teresa. You really didn't. But thank you. I'm particularly impressed that you took the time to wrap all of the individual gifts inside the one big box. They made rather a cheerful pile in the corner of my motel room. When I put them next to the television with the Christmas tree channel on, it seemed almost festive. Even if, as I said, you went a little overboard. (I'd scold, but I don't think I'm in any position to do so, given the size of my own box to you.)

You'll deny it anyway of course, so now there's nothing left for me to do but thank you. The guidebook of 1001 things to see in California is a perfect blend of utility and humour. I admit, I'm a bit intrigued by some of the entries. I see that you also sent me a journal, for writing down my thoughts and trying to sort through them (your words written on the first page). It's a thoughtful gift, Teresa. I'll certainly give it a try, though I can't guarantee success. The third package contained a fleece blanket, in case my car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and it's a cold night. As an added side benefit, I do find it makes the hotel rooms along the way a little bit more cheerful. So thank you. It looks cozy.

Tucked under the blanket, as you know, was a box of tea. My favourite brand. I thought you were spoiling me then, Teresa, until I found the chocolates underneath and knew for sure. I suppose you thought that everyone deserved a bit of a treat on Christmas morning? I'd point out that I'm not a child, but you'd simply disagree (and you might be right). So instead I've decided to just enjoy my chocolate.

Speaking of making Christmas festive, it turned out that the lack of decoration in my motel room wasn't a problem. You'd foreseen the difficulty, and found possibly the gaudiest Santa figurine that I've ever seen in my life. Maybe I should be grateful that it didn't sing and dance. I put it next to the television, and now it's grinning at me. Ridiculous thing. A completely and utterly ridiculous gift, Teresa. I'm sure you're curled up in Sacramento with your normal-looking decorations, laughing at me. You and the foolish fellow now staring at me from across the room with his absurdly ruddy cheeks. I suppose he does add something to the day. I don't know what though... I've been calling him Joe, out of sheer contrariness.

Next in your care package (yes, I'm onto you, Teresa – I can see your intention) was soup (for I assume, if I stop somewhere and can't find a restaurant), granola bars, bottled water, a candle, and a flashlight, all of which I promise to store in my car in case I get stranded and need supplies for a day.

Tucked in the bottom, there were still a couple of boxes. I picked up the smaller one first. "Songs of the seashore?" You dare to send me a relaxation CD? After I promised so faithfully not to send you a sleep schedule, dear? You really sent me the sound of the crashing waves? In an endearing combination of genuine hope that the ridiculous tape might help me sleep mixed with a healthy dose of mockery. Well played.

Underneath it was the e-reader. At first I resented the new technology. Give me an old-fashioned book any day! Then practicality crept up on me, and I reflected on how difficult it's been driving a significant number of books around California. One or two is easy, any more... So I turned the thing on warily, only to find that you'd already loaded a bunch of the classics on it. Plus a few more modern mysteries. It seems we had similar, literary-related thoughts this Christmas.

Thank you for all of it, Teresa. And don't bother telling me that I don't have to thank you, because it was for Christmas. I'll just thank you again, for all of it. Even that ridiculous Santa Clause. (I hope you won't be hurt if I use "Songs of the Seashore" as a coaster for my tea.)

Annie mentioned that you liked your gift. I hope so. I thought you might like something to occupy your brain while on vacation. It couldn't have been easy for you to try to relax. Luckily, I'm sure there was hockey on. Nice physical sport, that. It probably provided some distraction.

I hope going back to work isn't too big a shock after your lazy week. Have a happy New Year, Teresa.

Love Jane

P.S. I thought I'd stick around here for another day (see Pete and Sam again maybe), before heading towards Turlock.

x

Lisbon was smiling by the end of Jane's letter. She glanced to her left where her massive box of books was sitting in front of her bookshelf, waiting to be unpacked. She'd do it another day; it was fine where it was for now. She was glad that Jane had found some friends to have Christmas dinner with. She had been worried that he'd be alone. And no one should be alone during the holidays.

She glanced down at her new brooch, where it was still pinned to her lapel, before reaching for her notepaper.

So Jane was going to be in Turlock, was he? Excellent. She hadn't been looking forward to making a wild stab in the dark as to where he'd be.

x

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas to you too! I'm glad to hear that you had a good day with Pete and Sam, particularly since it apparently means that there's still someone around to glare at you and scold when I'm not there. I'm sure it was all deserved.

Unfortunately I didn't think to put Annie on potato-peeling duty. Tommy did get her to help slice carrots though.

You're welcome for your presents. I'm glad you enjoyed them, but I will not be reprimanded for going overboard. Not from the king of exaggerated gestures. You're not exactly known for your subtlety, Patrick. Who was it that lured a pony into my office again... Oh, wait a minute. Yeah, that was YOU.

I admit, I had my doubts about the e-reader, but honestly, it's only practical while you're gallivanting around the entire state. You can hardly cart boxes and boxes of books around. A personal library needs a more permanent home. It just does.

And I thought that Santa was charming. It certainly made *me* laugh, and clearly that's the important thing.

As for Songs of the Seashore, don't knock it before you try it. Apparently Van Pelt's cousin Yolanda (you know, the psychic) swears by it. Something about clearing the mind.

Speaking of Van Pelt, I heard from her on Boxing Day. She called to wish me happy holidays, and (I'm pretty sure) to assure me that everything was fine back at the office. She'd had a good Christmas. From the sounds of it, Rigsby did too, if the pictures he e-mailed around of Connor in his Christmas sweater are anything to go by. (Apparently I spoiled Connor with Christmas presents too, but I don't care. He's sweet. Not that I admit to spoiling you.)

Tommy and Annie were doing well. Annie and I went shopping again; Tommy declined to accompany us. But we did go out on a family outing to the shooting range. Generally it was a week of too much food, a lot of family, and a fair bit of lounging around my brother's house with a book, since I had so many there. Thank you for that. That box was very, very sweet. Even if I am surprised that you're encouraging me with the Harlequin romance novel.

And I just love my brooch, as I'm sure you knew I would. Thank you very much Patrick.

Oh, and I did meet Dylan. He seems to be a rather average teenager. Or, maybe better than average; he seems like a nice boy. He was definitely nervous to meet me, which made me laugh a little on the inside, since the boy is nearly a foot taller than I am. He did a reasonable job hiding his nervousness though. He does seem to genuinely like Annie, which is what matters.

Anyway, I should go to bed. Have a happy new year back!

Love Teresa

x

With that, Lisbon did go to bed, grabbing a book from her box to take with her.

The next few days were a whirl of trying to get back into her usual routine. She familiarized herself with the details of the case the team had solved in her absence under Cho's capable direction. She got caught up on all of her paperwork, and her e-mail. And she heard all about everyone else's holiday plans.

Before she knew it, it was New Year's Eve.

Lisbon hadn't felt the need to make a big deal out of New Year's in, well, in years. She usually tried to do a little something. This year, she spent the evening with some women she played softball with on the weekends (when she wasn't away on a case). Her friend Diane had decided to have a low-key party at her house, nothing fancy. Just drinks, some snacks, and watching the ball drop on television, and a large group of friends (more than Lisbon had been expecting to be honest) Still, it definitely made for a good party.

After exchanging kisses on the cheek with half the people in the house, a glass of champagne, and several rounds of Happy New Year!, Lisbon excused herself quietly from the festivities. She was glad she'd gone, to be sure, but she hadn't really wanted to stay longer. Too much fuss, too much talk of resolutions, and what people wanted the New Year to bring. She hadn't been in the mood for that sort of thing.

It had been good to spend some time with friends though.

She should do more of that. Maybe that should be her New Year's resolution.

She was starting to feel a bit restless, in a way. Work was good, or as good as it could be, given that she spent her days finding killers. Work was stable. Usually that was enough, but lately, she'd been feeling like something was missing.

She hadn't felt that way over Christmas, with Tommy and Annie. Or when Annie was visiting. And she hadn't felt like that at the New Year's party, not until the very end at least, when things had gotten very coupley.

Maybe it was time to try something new in her personal life. She could join a club, or volunteer, or something. She'd find the time somehow, someway. As long as the hours were flexible, it could work.

Maybe.

She sighed, wishing she had someone to talk to about all this.

Tapping her fingers on her coffee table, Lisbon bit her lip.

Why not? Maybe writing it down would make her feel better.

x

Dear Jane,

Happy New Year! It is officially January 1st. I haven't heard from you in a few days, although I suspect that has more to do with the fact that the post offices are closed for the holiday than anything else.

I just got back from a New Year's party, actually. My friend Diane had a few people over to her house. Just a casual sort of a thing. I left not long after the ball dropped. Didn't feel the need to linger. I guess the New Year ending isn't such a big deal to me.

Still, it shouldn't go by completely unremarked either. Should it?

I hope, wherever you are, that you had a good New Year's. (And I also hope that you get this letter at some point.)

Do you think you'll make any New Year's resolutions? Do you even make New Year's resolutions? I don't think I've ever asked you that. It now seems odd to me that we've never discussed it. But we haven't, have we?

You don't seem like the type to make New Year's resolutions for some reason. I guess, in my head, I lump New Year's resolutions in with things like believing in psychics, or religion, or whatever (although I'm not sure why I'm lumping those things together now that I think about it). And you don't do any of those things. It's all part and parcel of the things that you don't believe in. (Not that I'm suggesting you necessarily should, just that you probably don't...)

Maybe it isn't the worst thing in the world to make New Year's resolutions though. Even if almost nobody keeps them beyond a week. It's not such a bad thing to want to be better, is it? To want things to change? To want something more out of life? I think I'm going to make one. I'm not sure what it is, exactly. I think I just want more. I want something that isn't just work. I want to talk to Annie and Tommy more. I feel like we've been communicating better lately, or more frequently, and I like it. I want to do more stuff like meeting people for New Year's parties. I was thinking of maybe joining a club or volunteering. Or something. I just, I want a change, maybe find some balance. I feel like I need to shake things up, if that makes sense.

Does it make sense? Or do you think it's just because it's New Year's, and I'll have forgotten about it in a week? I'm not drunk though, if you're worried about that. That's not what this is.

I don't know. You don't need to know either, by the way. I just wanted to tell someone.

Thanks for being that someone.

Hope you had a good evening.

-L

x

Lisbon sealed her envelope, consulted with her map, and decided to take a chance and send her letter to Merced. She wasn't sure where Jane had gotten to, but hopefully he wasn't travelling too quickly. For some reason, she didn't think he was.

Then she decided to get to bed.

Maybe some sleep would straighten things out.

xxx

Sleep didn't exactly give her answers, but things did seem better in the morning, just as the old saying said they would.

She started idly looking into clubs, and places to volunteer. She wasn't exactly in a rush, but it was a good idea to see what was out there. She wasn't going to decide that day, obviously (best to make sure this wasn't a random New Year's induced whim). But a little preliminary research wouldn't hurt.

The next day brought a letter from Jane.

He obviously hadn't received her New Year's letter. But he had received the one she'd sent him after Christmas.

x

Turlock, California (still)

Dear Lisbon,

No need to be defensive about that ridiculous Santa. I certainly didn't mean to disparage any of your presents. Quite the opposite. They were lovely. Well, except for Songs of the Seashore (whatever Van Pelt's estimable aunt Yolanda might say). Songs of the Seashore is absurd. Just as you intended it to be. I actually listened to it the other day. Along with the waves crashing along the rocks, the CD features this over-earnest woman urging me to cleanse my mind and listen to the rhythm of the waves, and think about the course of my life as the rocking of a boat as it travels through them, or some such nonsense.

Ah well, I needed a good laugh. Which means that I suppose I shouldn'tcompletely mock Songs of the Seashore. Because it definitely amused me, even if it didn't fulfil its intended purpose. (I suspect if fulfilled the purpose you intended, though.)

I'm glad to hear that Dylan is a nice enough young man. Although, trust me when I say this, Teresa. Your height (or lack thereof) in no way makes you less intimidating. Just ask Rigsby. Remember the first case he worked on your team? I do. The poor man was a bundle of nerves any time you gave him an order, or even just asked him a question. And he's at least a foot taller than you, if not more. He's settled in now, of course. Not that you can't still intimidate him when you want to.

Your ability to exercise your authority over those twice your size is one of your better qualities, Teresa. I've always enjoyed watching you order around the self-important local Sheriffs. It's quite entertaining.

I'm glad you enjoyed your Christmas books and brooch. That was my intention. I got a text from Annie earlier today. It seems she decided to give Holmes a try. I thought you'd like to know that.

Tomorrow's New Year 's Eve. I almost can't believe it. Another year over. I might try and find some fireworks somewhere, or something. I don't know. I hope you find some way of celebrating. By the time you get this, the New Year will have almost certainly come and gone.

I hope it treats you well,

-Patrick

x

Jane's letter made her smile. She wrote a breezy reply in the same teasing tone he'd used. She tried not to think about Jane, sitting in his car alone on New Year's watching distant fireworks. For some reason, she doubted that he'd been right in the thick of things, wherever he'd been.

Suddenly unhappy, she quickly sealed the letter and sent it to Madera. Hopefully he'd get at least one of them. Maybe he'd get both.

It was hard to say.

Then she decided to go for a walk. She suddenly needed to get out of her apartment. Maybe she'd stop by the store and get a few groceries or something. She needed to move, do something...

She needed a distraction.

Luckily for Lisbon, that distraction literally bumped into her in the bred aisle. She turned quickly after picking up a loaf of whole wheat bread, only to crash into someone turning the other way.

She'd been mid-apology, when she recognized the man she'd collided into.

His name was Geoff, and he was a friend of Diane's. Lisbon had actually met him only a few days earlier at the New Year's party. If she remembered correctly, he was an architect. And he liked dogs. She was also pretty sure he played basketball in his spare time. And come to think of it, she thought he'd said he'd just moved into the neighbourhood. Which would explain why he was at this grocery store.

Her apology slid into a self-conscious smile and a friendly greeting.

Geoff smiled back, and seeing it, Lisbon had to admit there may have been a reason she remembered several specific details about his life.

It seemed he remembered who she was too. If his, "Hello Teresa! I was hoping we'd meet again. You left the party so quickly!" was anything to go by.

Before Lisbon really knew what was happening, she'd accepted his invitation to dinner (he'd insisted it would be payment for nearly squashing his bread). Then Geoff sent her another friendly smile, and went on with his shopping.

Lisbon turned back to her own grocery needs a second later, albeit far much more cheerfully than when she'd first walked in the store.

And why not? She'd just decided that she should try and make some new friends, maybe even carve out a little bit of a personal life. Look how well that was going already!

xxx

TBC

A/N: I decided to split this chapter in two. It was insanely long. I'll put them both up tonight (or very early this morning, as it were), but seriously, the length was insanity. This wasn't intended to be a cliffhanger, so don't worry, but it probably makes a good chapter end anyway.