For good

Jane was awakened by a dull, metallic pounding. He shivered a little. It had gotten cold in the elevator. A long day lay behind them. They had both dozed off, and at some point Teresa's head had sunk onto his shoulder. He closed his eyes once more to breathe in the scent of her hair. They smelled like maritime accords with a heart note of Himalayan peony and orchid. He suppressed the urge to kiss her on the forehead. A tempting as well as nonsensical thought. At the latest when they left the elevator and reality caught up with them again, he would regret it. Teresa murmured to herself and snuggled up to him. No, he would not put his arm around her, although he was sure she would allow it. He waited motionless not to do anything rash. Reality and dream blurred, probably because he was dehydrated and dead tired. "Because we got pretty close earlier." Teresa had said a few hours ago. He knew how it was actually meant, but her words couldn't have better described the magic that was between them. He sighed. What if he just gave in to his emotions? Now, at this moment, it felt so right.

"Hey, Teresa," he whispered, nudging her gently with his shoulder, "wake up." She parried his words with a gruff growl.

"Come on. I think the others are tampering with the elevator doors right now."

Against his reserve, he stroked her cheek and was rewarded with a smile. Sleepy eyes looked at him. Patrick's breath caught and a vacuum formed in his head. He saw only those beautiful eyes that magnetically attracted him. He couldn't stop his hand from gently brushing a strand of hair from her face and his arm from wrapping around her shoulders to pull her close. Teresa swallowed. Her mind was still in a daze, just following her instincts that sought this man's closeness. But where was he leading her? Were they just putting their friendship at risk? For a fleeting pleasure? She longed so much for a kiss. Just a kiss, what was the big deal? No one would ever know about it. Her secret would never leave this tiny room. She closed her eyes and felt his warmth.

"Are you all right?" he whispered, "do you want me to stop?"

Without a word, she took his hand and intertwined her fingers in his. He moved a little closer and brushed her lips feather lightly. Then he paused for a moment. Was she having doubts? Uncertain, he backed away a little. They could still pull the ripcord, at least that's what his sanity told him. "If you cross that line, nothing will ever be the same again," his inner voice warned him. Finally, Teresa's look made him capitulate. Patrick closed his eyes and time seemed to stand still as she returned his kiss. Finally, his heart could take over. His heart that he had carefully kept under lock and key for so long to protect it. Teresa got to know Patrick from a side whose existence had remained hidden from her until kissed her so lovingly and tenderly, as if he were afraid to destroy something incredibly precious.

#

"Go Cho, we're almost there, the doors are starting to give way." Cho and Rigsby each worked with a crowbar, using all their body weight. The gap was widening, they placed the irons higher and leaned against it again.

"Come on now we should be able to do it with our hands!"

Now one pulled on the right door, the other on the left until the gap was large enough for an adult to fit through. The elevator had come to a stop right between two floors.

"We made it! Are you okay?" shouted Rigsby into the elevator's interior. Cho shone his flashlight into the darkness.

Teresa and Patrick pulled apart, startled, and put their hands over their eyes.

"Cho! Turn off that damn light, it's blinding," Teresa shouted, slowly getting to her feet. She stepped forward and looked up. "Come on Jane, we're finally free." He, too, had righted himself and was immediately helping her up.

"So, what have you been doing all this time?" asked Rigsby, grinning. The team, reunited, sat together over a cup of a sideways glance at Teresa, Patrick explained, "We solved the case. At least it felt right in the room. With a sideways glance at Teresa, Patrick explained, "We solved the case. At least it felt right in the Elevator. What do you think Lisbon?" Or what do you think Lisbon?" Although she immediately understood his innuendo, and probably no one else but her, a subtle blush appeared on her cheeks.

"I'm not sure where this is going yet. I think we should all go home and think about it some more."

"About what, exactly?" interjected Cho with a furrowed brow.

"We should just do what our boss says," Van Pelt quickly changed the subject, "or what do you think Wayne?"

"I don't have anything to add to that. Are you going to stay here, Jane? Or do you have something else planned for today?" he grinned at him.

"Where would I go, anyway? To my empty house? No, that's too sad for me at Christmas."

"We'll wait for the test results for now and go from there," Teresa interjected frantically.

"Right," Cho replied with a motionless expression, "I wish you all a Merry Christmas."

One by one, they left the CBI and Jane retreated to the garret. Tired, he stared at the ceiling.

It ended as expected. If he continued to hold on to his feelings for Teresa, it would only get more complicated. Just an hour ago they had kissed and now everything was back to normal. The magic remained in the tiny space between two floors. Their real lives didn't match. Lisbon would throw herself headlong into work and perhaps continue to hold on to Jake. The Red John case demanded his full attention. Maybe it was better that way. His future was uncertain anyway, and this way he could at least move on without having to be considerate of anyone. He sighed and closed his eyes.

#

The vibrating of his cell phone pulled him out of a restless sleep.

"Hello?" he called out, half asleep.

"Merry Christmas, Patrick. I've prepared a little present for you," he heard a high-pitched male voice at his ear.

All of a sudden he was wide awake and confused thoughts were running through his head. He tried to keep calm.

"What do you want from me? I don't want a gift from you."

"Why so rude? Red John's gifts aren't something you just turn down. Especially since it turned out so nice this time."

"What did you do?"

"The woman you kissed was already enchanting in the daytime, but, at night, in her sleep, she looks even more enchanting."

Before Red John ended the conversation, Patrick heard his catty laugh followed by the incoming tone of a text message:

—

It is not over yet.

You are still my favorite playmate.

Merry Christmas

—

Panicked, Jane left the attic and ran to his car. Without regard for a single traffic rule, he raced to Teresa's house. "Please don't, please don't," he muttered to himself mantra-like. Finally arriving, he rushed headlong out of the car and banged frantically on her front door, which she opened sleepily after a while. Relieved, he pushed her back into the house and searched every room, but nowhere could he find evidence of a nocturnal visitor.

Finally he stood in front of her, grabbed her by the shoulders and looked at her with eyes widened in fear.

"What in God's name is going on, Jane?" she looked back in fright.

"Red John. He called me and I thought he did something to you ..." he gasped.

"I'm fine, please calm down."

"But if not you, then who?"

All at once he realized who he might have meant.

"Come on, Teresa, get dressed quickly, we have to leave right away."

A short time later, they drove up to the widow's estate. To be on the safe side, Lisbon had called for backup. It was already dawn. At first glance, they noticed nothing unusual. The lavish exterior decorations flashed and glowed in every Christmas color imaginable. They got out and approached the front door. It was wide open.

"I'll take it from here, you best remain outside the house," Lisbon ordered, drawing her gun.

"At least wait until the reinforcements arrive!"

"No, by then it may be too late."

She disappeared into the house. One eternity later, she stepped outside, distraught and vomiting.

"Don't go in there," she tried to stop Jane. Her words, however, were lost in the retching.

The warning wouldn't have gotten through anyway. As if in a trance, Jane was drawn inside. Slowly he inched his way along the wall until he felt a light switch under his fingers. The sound of a music box led him to the master bedroom on the second floor. Upon entering, he recognized the melody of „The Sound of Silence".

The mother and her two children were artfully draped on the bed. Fairy lights set the scene for the morbid still life. The mother had both eyeballs peeled out. They dangled from her earlobes like Christmas balls. On the victim's head was a red cap, like the one Santa usually wore. From the wall, the face painted in blood taunted him, this time with "Merry Christmas" written in capital letters underneath. Jane struggled with a panic attack. He was so preoccupied with himself that he almost missed one of the children opening his eyes.

Hectically, Jane snatched it off the bed and ran downstairs. "Here, take him! I have to get back in right away!" he shouted, handing the little boy to the surprised Teresa. She was coordinating the reinforcements that had just arrived.

"Get an ambulance quick!" she instructed one of the men. Only shortly thereafter, Jane returned with a little girl, dressed like his murdered daughter, but only appearing to be asleep. Teresa took the child in her arms like fragile porcelain so Patrick could catch his breath.

"She's alive!" she stated with relief, and now carefully handed the girl over to a helper as well.

Jane, meanwhile, was desperately trying to understand what had happened. He moved away a little and turned his back on all the cruelty. No one should see how he was in reality.

"Patrick? Is there anything I can do for you?" Teresa had followed him and hesitantly put her hand on his back. She got no response. "The kids are fine. They're safe," she added quietly.

"What does it matter?" he replied without turning around, "They've already lost their father. And from now on, they will wake up every Christmas morning remembering that their mother also died the night before. Red John has destroyed the magic of Christmas once and for all."

Teresa fought back tears and wished herself back in the elevator. There she would have been allowed to hug him, but here she knew he would never let her.

"Patrick, let's go," she pleaded in a brittle voice.

"I'm going. You stay. We made a mistake yesterday that must never be repeated."

"Patrick ..."

He stared at the soil, as he vanished. One look in her beautiful emeralds would have broken his heart for good.

—

And even though the ending of this story didn't fit the classic Christmas cliché, what I wrote was hopefully captivating. Life doesn't always have the great happy endings. As I wrote, I thought of all the people who have lost one or more loved ones in recent weeks and months. I sincerely hope that we are heading for a new and better year.

Nevertheless, I wish you a peaceful and harmonious Christmas and a good start into the coming year.

Be mindful of yourself and your loved ones and stay healthy, because health is a fragile commodity.

Best regards, Mary