-1Title: Silver Bells and Red Ribbon

Rating: T

Genre: Humor/Mystery/Drama/Romance?
Characters: Our buddies Patrick Jane, Kendall Cho, Theresa Lisbon and Grace Van Pelt along with Corin showing up in between and well, she's splattered in there.
Warnings: Nothing really to be concerned with. If you followed my first fic for the show - The Scarlet Thread, there is a gap between that story and this one. There's stuff in the middle that will fill it in later. ( This chapter isn't as long either.)

Summary: Patrick is tested again with yet another weird case involving something he doesn't believe in. We might be saying sometime later - Yes Patrick, there IS a Santa Clause!

Author's Note: Thanks so much to Ellipsis9 who came up with the first Mentalist Christmas fic that I can think of. Kudos to you! And it was so clever too! Thanks for inspiring me to write one. I hope all you other writers join us! So fun! XD

Disclaimer - I own no original characters or storylines for The Mentalist. The characters of Corin and the other miscellaneous personalities that may or may not appear in this story are the only ones I can claim as mine. This storyline is mine as well.

Silver Bells and Red Ribbons - By LionQueen

Chapter One - The Man in the Red Hat

"That is one sad, pathetic little tree Charlie Brown."

Rigsby hadn't been at his desk long. He was hunched over, typing out a report and grumbling to himself. He hated tedious, meaningless, tasks preferring to be out in the street somewhere knocking down doors and kicking ass.

His fingers stopped abruptly over the keyboard as he flicked a slow brewing glare upwards. Sure the tree wasn't the most luscious he'd ever seen, but it was his and it was on his desk, so what did it matter to Jane?

Patrick was hovering over him, sizing up the sparse scrap of pine that Rigsby had placed there about ten minutes ago. It stood about a foot and a half tall and bent over a little at the top.

"Yea, well, it's my desk." Rigsby growled. "And it's my tree. And what do you care anyway …You don't even like Christmas, right? I mean, how can you, you're an atheist who can't even bring himself to believe in Santa Claus."

"That was not bad." Jane nodded, with a seemingly pleased expression. "The delivery was a little awkward, but, effective all the same. I'm impressed."

"Where'd you dig that thing up, anyway?" Cho dropped in. He'd been amusing himself on the sidelines at his own desk, having made the same observation as Patrick, but hadn't vocalized it until now. He was crossing the floor, headed off to fill his empty mug with a fresh brew of java, and decided to take a jab himself … It was fun and kept him entertained.

"Probably from the same place you got that cologne." Patrick noted, covering his nose with his hand. "Cho, no offense man, but …You stink."

"What?" Cho blinked, taking a whiff into his shoulder.

He'd turned his head around when Lisbon passed him, as if asking her opinion. And she gave it quickly. "Yea …Ahm …He's right. You might wanna rethink wearing that... Whatever it is."

Cho flicked his eyes across the office and then strode off towards the bathroom.

Van Pelt tried hard not to make a face when she passed Cho, but it was difficult. She was coming back from the break room with a slice of fruitcake in her hand.

"Holy crap, you eat that?" Patrick jeered, eyeballing the cake as if it were going to ooze from her hand like the blob and attach itself to him. He dramatically shivered while delivering the comment.

"Yes." She answered curtly, all but turning her nose in the air. "I love fruitcake … And this one is homemade."

"Ooo…." Rigsby crooned. "The homemade ones are really good."

A glowing smile of satisfaction spread across her face. "And it's even better with eggnog."

"The festive version, of course? Having a bit of the sauce is permitted then, right?"

She'd drawn her eyebrows down into her classic Van Pelt scowl when Rigsby leapt to her rescue. "Hey man, what's your problem today? Why do ya gotta be such a Grinch?"

"Or Scrooge." Van pelt chided, with a pout.

'Yes, well, whatever. Back to this tree of yours."

"Yea, what?" This time Rigsby was sitting up straight, head tilted to the side, and his tone was a bit more agitated than it had been.

"What about his tree?" Van Pelt stuck a finger out and lifted one of the sagging branches.

"I think it's cute."

Jane noticed the pink that flushed over Rigsby's face and just couldn't resist. "She said she thinks it's cute, not you …Rudolph."

"Yea, yea …" Lisbon broke the flow after hanging up the phone. "Okay children, play nice. We got a call, let's go."

"Yes Ma'am." Rigsby replied, sliding out from the desk. He was joined by Cho, who'd only just returned from the restroom.

Cho tried to give him a subtle glance. "Well?"

Rigsby took a whiff and shook his head. "It's gonna be a long ride."

Lisbon had continued her pace through the door, unaware of Rigsby, who'd already fallen in line behind her. Assuming Lisbon was holding the door open, Rigsby had his head turned to the side and when he looked straight again he stepped nose first into the glass. Lisbon flipped around when she'd heard the smack.

There was Wayne holding his nose in his hands.

"Oh, are you alright? You shouldn't have been so close behind me."

'Uh yea …" Wayne responded agitatedly. "Yea, just fine. Don't worry about me."

Van Pelt, however, was right on it. She muttered something and then she'd flown back towards the break room, returning two or three minutes later with a small hand towel wrapped around a bag of ice. "Let me see? Well, there's a little swelling but it's not broken. Here, just keep this on your nose while we're on the way."

"Nice goin Chuck!" Patrick smirked at Rigsby, as Van Pelt passed him. He raised a finger in the air, with a jovial twinkle in his eye. "So, if you're Charlie Brown, Lisbon is Lucy, and Cho is Pig Pen, does that make Van Pelt the Little Red Headed Girl?"

Wayne blushed again, checking to see if Grace had actually heard the discourse. Then Cho slapped a hand over Jane's shoulder. "Guess that makes you Peppermint Patty."

Jane rolled his eyes, as they caught up with Lisbon and Van Pelt. "Please … Look at the hair …. I am so Woodstock!"

"Maybe," Lisbon teased, stepping out into the parking lot. "But you act like Snoopy."

"Hmmm. I've been called worse you know."

"Snoopy? You think that's an insult?" Rigsby balked, jumping into the backseat.

"Not unless you don't like Beagles." Cho slid in the middle, Van Pelt on the other side.

Cho flicked glances between the other four who were tilting their heads towards him and then the windows went down.

Lisbon briefed them, on the way, that the call was about the murder of a forty-two year old man. The man, Alvin Howard, who most people called Howie, was discovered, just a few hours prior to the CBI's arrival, draped over the Santa Sleigh - which was a temporary fixture as a part of his elaborate Christmas display.

"That's um …That's definitely elaborate." Jane agreed when they parked on the side of the street.

It was garish actually. But fabulous if you were into that sort of thing. The house was fairly large, but the yard was far more expansive in comparison. There was certainly room for an outlandish display, and that is exactly what was spread upon it.

A sizeable, red welcome sign hung over a wooden post next to the driveway. Among the decorations were sticks of red and white candy canes stringed along the lengthy path leading to the front door. On either side were a variety of entertaining contraptions.

There was a functioning, miniature Ferris Wheel primed for thrilling a few bright-eyed tots at a time and a matching carousel to handle the ones who were waiting to ride the Ferris wheel. A booth was erected closer to the house that looked as if, when running properly, it served a limited fare of food and refreshments.

Jane was wandering the yard, playing with the ornaments hanging off of the trees when he eventually focused his attention to the sleigh. "Hey Rigsby, looks like they're gonna need a Rudolph .. And since you're the only one with a red nose."

"Oh right, ha! Very funny." Rigsby answered, and then subconsciously drew a hand over his face.

"That's not funny!" Van Pelt scolded. "It's disrespectful, cracking jokes over a dead person like that!"

"Why?" Patrick countered. "It's not like we're making jokes about the dead guy. Besides, how's he gonna know anyway? He's dead!"

And Howie was dead. He was sprawled out across the interior of the sleigh like shish kabob. He'd been run through the middle with one of the candy canes, but Jane suspected that this was not the way he died,.

"Looks maybe he got in a fight with someone." Cho asserted, examining the body up close. "It went sour and the assailant ran off, leaving him to bleed to death."

"Ummhmm…He was impaled with a candy cane in the gut, not rendered helpless, why didn't he just get up and call for help? "

"Maybe he hit his head when he fell over the sleigh." Lisbon offered. "What are you getting at?"

"Hmm … I'll get back to you on that." And then he started to walk slowly away from the body, pacing himself methodically over the ground.

"Wait, where are you going?" Lisbon called after, leaving the body behind.

"You think the assailant fled."

"Yes, of course … I don't see anyone else here .. Do you?"

"Actually, yes I do." He took a couple of steps more and then pointed.

"What the hell?" She stared, jaw dropped at the second body lying face down under the shrub. "We've got a double homicide on our hands?"

"Nope." Jane disagreed. "Just one."

He moved closer, and then tapped the man's boot with his shoe. "Mornin sunshine."

There was a groan and then the body rolled over, revealing an older man's face on the other side. He squinted small blue eyes, and then ran a fat palm over his white beard.

"Hello." Lisbon smiled, stepping out to give him a hand up. That's when she noticed the blood caked on his jean overalls.

He stretched out a hand, but then took it back once he realized that they, too, were stained red. "I'm sorry dear." He managed and then rose on his own.

Lisbon flashed Jane a look as they were joined by Rigsby and Van Pelt.

"What's your name?"

"It's Nicholas, but you can call me Chris if you like. Most people do."

"He looks like Santa Claus." Van Pelt commented, then expressed a look that said - Did I just say that out loud?

"Oh, well that's who I am, dear." He confirmed.

Lisbon tried to hold back a giggle, while Jane rolled his eyes and groaned under his breath.

"Here we go."

Jane reached out a hand and gave the man's beard a good tug.

"Stop it." Van Pelt murmured, stomping on Jane's foot.

Chris laughed with a round-mouthed chuckle. "Oh, it's real."

"Santa Claus." Lisbon echoed flatly.

" Christopher Cringle, Saint Nicholas, among other names." He responded. 'But, yes child

"… I am Santa Claus."