A/N: I wish I had the time to reply personally to all of your reviews, but right now, it's either use any free time to write, or use that time to respond. Hopefully I've chosen what you the readers would want, but I want you to know that I read and appreciate and am inspired by every last one. Thanks so much!

Chapter 8: You Can't Fight Fate

Lisbon and Charlotte shared a hospital room next to Jane's, though the Secret Service agents had suggested they would be more comfortable in a hotel room. The president's daughter adamantly refused, so Charlotte's things were brought from Air Force One, and the hospital gave Lisbon a toothbrush and soap. Neither of them had wanted to leave Jane, even though he was out of danger.

When he awoke to the smell of antiseptic and the distant odor of hospital cafeteria food, Jane sighed and turned his face to the bleak light shining through the blinds. Christmas morning in the hospital wasn't exactly the way he had planned to spend it. He had hoped to awaken with Lisbon in a nice big bed somewhere, then, after a visit to his troops at Travis Air Force Base, he'd wanted to spend the day with Lisbon and Charlotte. He thought of Lisbon's gift, a long, thin parcel at the bottom of his suitcase.

He didn't know what she'd think of it. If she'd even consider accepting it. Maybe it was too soon in their relationship. Maybe she didn't think it was worth all the hell she would have to go through to be his girlfriend.

Girlfriend?

Jane felt his color heighten. The word made him feel like a teenager, but then, that's exactly the way she made him feel.

His door creaked open a crack, and Charlotte peaked inside.

"Dad?" she whispered.

He turned his head back toward the door with a grin.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he said. She smiled in return and came to his bed to kiss him.

Her eyes narrowed as she searched his face with concern. "How are you feeling?"

"Just a headache. I'm sorry I spoiled everyone's night."

"I blame myself. I knew you sucked at ice skating."

"I didn't have to go, you know."

"Yeah, you just wanted to impress Teresa. I get it."

He couldn't deny it, so they both just grinned.

"I heard the doctor say you could leave the hospital today," she told him.

"Oh, nothing would have stopped me from that. Not even Walter. The minute I get my walking papers, we're out of here."

Charlotte's smile turned suddenly mysterious. "You can't leave yet. Not until you see the present I brought you."

"Aw," said Jane. "The mysterious present you've been swindling the Vice President her hard-earned money to buy."

"Yes! Now wait here," she said. And Jane rolled his eyes.

Lisbon passed Charlotte on the way out of his room, and Jane's eyes softened at the sight of her.

"Good morning," she said quietly, moving to stand by his bed. "You look much better today. Some color back in your cheeks."

"Thank you. I am feeling much better. Anxious to get out of here." His heart gave a little thump, and his voice lowered seductively. "I missed not being with you last night. This bed seemed very small and…lonely."

"Jane." Her blush said she had felt the same way. He pulled on her hand.

"Come here. I know there's no mistletoe, but I'd love a Christmas kiss."

"Just a quick one," she cautioned, "Charlotte will be back—"

She lost her breath along with her train of thought as he pulled her down halfway on top of him, finding her lips and passionately prying them open with his tongue. She inhaled sharply, then relaxed against him, one hand resting on his chest to feel the excited pounding beneath his hospital gown.

"Ahem," came a deep, masculine voice from the doorway.

Lisbon struggled awkwardly to stand upright, while Jane's eyes flew to the door in annoyance. But then he saw who had interrupted, his face blossomed into a welcome smile. "Pete!"

The big man ambled over to the bed, his giant paws coming out to rest on Jane's shoulders affectionately.

"You don't look too worse for wear," he said gravely, though his eyes were bright with amusement. "But that doesn't mean I'm gonna kiss ya," he said, winking at Lisbon.

"I imagine your pride's hurting a little more than your head," said another familiar voice. Pete's wife, Samantha. Her husband had blocked her tiny frame from sight.

"And Sam? What the hell are you two doing here?" he asked in delight.

Samantha joined her husband and bent to kiss Jane's cheek. "How ya doin', Mr. President?"

Jane grinned. "You can call me Your Highness."

Sam smacked him playfully on the arm. "In your dreams, Boy Wonder."

Charlotte strolled in now, a smug smile on her face as she beheld the reaction to her gift.

"Merry Christmas, Dad!"

His eyes widened in realization. "They are your gift?"

"Yes! Surprised?"

"Well… yeah. Pleasantly so. What gives, kid?"

"I wanted to have family with us for Christmas, so I've been saving my allowance and babysitting money to pay for their plane tickets. Uncle Walter helped me arrange everything. And even though you spoiled it all by this crazy last-minute trip to California, turns out, they were only an hour's drive away."

The pair weren't exactly family, but the closest they had since Angela's death. Charlotte knew her father sometimes got lonely, and she'd wanted to cheer him at Christmas time with people who really knew him, and not the presidential persona everyone saw on TV. Sam and Pete still traveled with the carnival, but were on winter layover at Stoney Ridge, a carnival camping area. She hadn't been able to find her Uncle Danny, but last time her dad had seen him, they hadn't exactly been on the best of terms, so maybe it was just as well.

"Charlotte," Jane said, trying his best not to tear up. "This is…amazing. Thank you, sweetheart." He held out a hand to her and she took it, then bent to kiss his cheek.

"I got you pretty good, didn't I?" she whispered.

He chuckled. "I'll get you back, kid, you just wait."

"Apple don't fall too far from the tree in the Jane family," commented Pete in admiration. He put his giant arm around the diminutive girl, squeezing her to his side.

"I guess not," said Jane proudly. His eyes flickered over to Lisbon. "Oh, I'm sorry. Have you met Teresa?"

Lisbon nodded. "Yes, in the hall."

"As if your becoming the king of America wasn't enough," said Sam, "you had to go and start dating a cop. Oh, how the mighty hath fallen," she teased.

"Not so far that I forgot where I came from," said Jane, looking at his old friends affectionately. He was so proud of his daughter's thoughtfulness. It was truly one of the best presents he'd ever received. "I'm really glad you both are here. And we'll get those airline tickets changed so you can fly out and slum with me in the White House soon."

"Sam here wouldn't miss it," said Pete. "She was secretly hoping she'd get to stay in the Lincoln Bedroom."

"You're not afraid of ghosts?" Jane asked slyly.

"Patrick Jane, you know damn well I don't believe in that superstitious crap. My mother did the old gypsy voodoo routine, not me, remember?"

"Yes," said Jane fondly, "she taught me everything I knew about showmanship."

Lisbon was looking from Jane to his friends in surprise. "You mean…all that lore about you traveling with the carnival—that was really true?"

"Damn right it was true," said Pete. "What, did you think it was made up to make him look more…mysterious?" He waggled his bushy eyebrows.

Lisbon shrugged. "I don't know what I thought. Sometimes this stuff gets…exaggerated for the sake of an election. You know, George Washington and the cherry tree. Lincoln and the log cabin…"

"After my mother passed," said Sam, "Patrick and his dad started his Boy Wonder act. He knew all and saw all, or so said the signs. He was pretty convincing. I sometimes wondered if he really was gifted with the second sight, like Mama was."

"Nonsense," said Jane.

"Well, I've watched you on the news, Paddy," said Pete. "You work those world leaders like they're showbiz marks. They agree to all your terms before they even know what hit 'em. They say later that they were totally won over by your charm. Ha. We know better, though, don't we?"

"Keep that down, will ya?" said Jane, glancing toward the door. "You know what happens if they catch a glimpse behind the curtain."

They all chuckled.

They spoke a while longer about old times, until Jane's doctor shone a penlight into his eyes and told him he could be released.

"I wouldn't advise any more adventures on the ice anytime soon, Mr. President."

"Don't worry, Doc. I'm cured of that particular disease." He looked over at Lisbon and grinned.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They stayed in the penthouse suite of the Citizen Hotel, with beautiful downtown views of Sacramento. The press was camped out downstairs, and the police informed them that Lisbon's apartment was similarly surrounded. Jane insisted she stay with them. The entire floor was cleared save their rooms, and Jane paid for the relocation of the displaced patrons out of his own pocket.

It was Christmas, after all.

A private dining room was made available, and all of them, including Jim and Daniel of the Secret Service, would have a traditional Christmas dinner later that night, magically arranged on short notice, apparently by Mashburn and his secretary, long distance.

Jane had spoken to his Chief of Staff that morning. It hadn't been pretty. After a briefing on affairs of state and the world, Mashburn took things to a more personal level.

"Patrick, you're killing me here. The pundits on the news channels are going nuts with this mess. Dammit, they think you've gone off the deep end. You need to get it together with this girl and get the hell back to DC where you belong. First, however, visit those soldiers and try to find some way to recover politically from this fiasco."

"I know, I know. Everything would have gone perfectly if not for my mishap on the ice. Nobody recognized me, Walter. Nobody. It was incredible. I felt so free…"

"Yeah, yeah, I can imagine. Well, on the bright side, we're gaining support from social media. Word got out you visited the hospital as Santa without a film crew, and women age eighteen to eighty think it's so romantic you went all the way to California to surprise Agent Lisbon at Christmas."

"All true."

"That's the way we need to spin it then. I expect you back here tomorrow. Tonight would be even better."

"I need one more night with her, Walter," he said simply, though his tone was heavy with meaning.

Walter sighed. "Like I can stop you. But after your sneaking out to her hotel last weekend, then your disastrous turn as Dorothy Hamill, we need to have a serious talk about your security—"

"I've never done anything like this before, Walter. She's worth it. She's worth it all."

Jane could imagine him back in his office at DC (though he should have been here with him in California, visiting his parents) running a frustrated hand through his dark hair. "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow. And for the love of God, keep your ass out of trouble, at least until I'm around to fix things."

Jane grinned. "Scout's honor."

"Bullshit if you were ever a Boy Scout—"

"Good-bye Walter."

He ended the conversation with a push of a button, then he looked up to see Lisbon, who had come from Charlotte's adjoining room. He swallowed. How long had she been standing there?"

"I'm worth all this pain and trouble, am I?" she asked, walking toward him into the sitting area with the magnificent view of the Capitol building.

He was sitting in a leather, high-backed arm chair, his head resting gingerly against the smooth leather. He was tired, and his head still pounded, but he knew what the right answer was.

"Yes," he told her. "It was all worth it. Just to see you smile at me again. Just to kiss you."

He patted his legs invitingly, his smile very naughty. "Now, come sit on Santa's knee and tell me what you want for Christmas."

She looked skeptically at him, given his sudden change of mood, and she had a feeling he was trying not to scare her away with talk of serious things. She complied with his request, though she wasn't ready to end the conversation. Her bottom settled onto his lap and she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He kissed her immediately, passionately, and she became lost in him for countless minutes, as she felt his desire for her growing beneath her.

"We need to talk," she said, turning her head to escape his incredible mouth. He merely kissed her neck instead, his hot breath making her shiver.

"No," he said. "No more talking. Just for a little while."

His hands cupped her breasts, feeling her pebbled nipples with his thumbs.

"We can't, Jane. Charlotte is in the next room. She's getting ready to go to the Air Force Base…"

"You're going too, right?" He kissed just above the v of her work blouse, her cleavage smelling clean: Ivory soap from the hospital.

She shook her head. "No. This should be the two of you. I think I've had my fair share of the spotlight for the time being."

He raised his head to look at her, the faint freckles on her nose and cheeks more charmingly prominent without her usual makeup.

"I'm going to try to sneak over to the Rigsby's, maybe borrow some things from Grace to wear since I don't want to go back to my apartment. All the stores are closed today, in case you hadn't realized. They were expecting me for dinner, anyway."

He nodded. "As you wish, of course. Just take one of my agents with you for security please." Then a thought occurred to him. "You're coming back, aren't you?"

She wanted to say no, to stick to her guns about this situation being too impossible, too hard on her emotionally. She'd always striven to be that strong woman who didn't allow a man to influence her logical decision-making.

"Yes," she said, instead.

His answering smile was completely worth it, she thought illogically. For the first time since she could remember, she chose not to be that strong woman at all.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Rigsbys inundated her with questions the moment she arrived at their house in the unmarked sedan, emerging cautiously from the back seat. She'd hidden beneath a blanket to insure her escape from the parking garage of the hotel, and was hopeful they hadn't been followed. She didn't want the Rigsbys to be caught up in her whirlwind of craziness and lack of privacy. The driver would stay in the driveway until she was ready to return to the hotel.

"I've tried not to watch the news today," she told them, sitting on their couch and inhaling the delicious aroma of roasting turkey. She had apologized profusely for having to miss dinner, but they understood that a presidential invitation trumped a Rigsby turkey dinner. Cho was there too, with his mother, who seemed a bit star struck by Lisbon's presence. Well, someone had obviously been watching the TV.

"Probably a good thing," said Cho.

"Oh, hush," said Van Pelt. "I think it's incredibly sweet and romantic. Like a fairy tale. Like Pretty Woman."

Rigsby sniffed. "Yeah, if you like people watching your every move, paparazzi staking out your house."

"Which I don't," agreed Lisbon.

"But he's the president," said Van Pelt dreamily.

Lisbon couldn't help but smile. "Yes. There's that."

"Are you going to marry him?" asked Mrs. Cho, suddenly finding her voice.

"Ma," said Cho, embarrassed, though you couldn't tell it by his face.

Lisbon blushed. "I think it's a little too soon to talk about marriage, ma'am."

The old woman looked meaningfully at her handsome, single son. "It's never too soon to talk about marriage, though sometimes it becomes too late."

Cho shook his head imperceptibly, and Rigsby tried not to laugh.

They asked Lisbon all about the president, what he was like, what his daughter was like. She answered in the politest terms possible, but as she rose to return to the hotel, Van Pelt asked her to join her in the kitchen.

"Boss, I don't mean to pry, but…I can tell you really like this man."

Lisbon thought about cutting her off, telling her it was none of her business, but she found suddenly she needed someone to talk to about all this. Grace seemed to be the only woman she was remotely close to.

"I do like him," Lisbon admitted. "But it's just an impossible situation."

"Difficult, maybe, but not impossible. And he won't be president forever; you'll be able to have a more normal life with him in a few years, if that's what you want."

"I don't know," she said, her eyes downcast.

"Well, you have to decide if he's worth waiting for, worth putting up with all the media crap that you'll have to—"

"Worth giving up my job?" Lisbon asked softly. "I honestly don't know. Everything is happening so fast."

"Well then take your time. What's the hurry?"

"It's not me, it's him. He's…pursuing me, and I don't know how to put him off."

Van Pelt chuckled. "You really don't want to put him off though, do you?"

Lisbon sighed, then smiled sheepishly. "No, I suppose not." Then suddenly, Lisbon was tired of being coy, and the truth of how she felt began flowing from her lips as from a wellspring. "Oh, God, Grace, he is so wonderful, so beautiful, so perfect. He is everything I could ever hope to find in a man. I don't want to let him go."

Van Pelt smiled gently at her boss, touched beyond measure that this woman she admired so much would confide in her. She reached out a hand and touched the smaller woman's arm.

"Then don't," said Grace. "It really is as simple as that. The other stuff isn't important. Sure, it will be inconvenient and annoying, but I know from personal experience that it's painful and stupid to fight fate. I gave up on Rigsby for a time, and you know how lousy my rebound guys turned out to be, how much I put Wayne and I through for no good reason—mainly because I was choosing my job over him. Don't make the same mistake I did, Boss. Don't waste time that you will later regret."

Impulsively, Van Pelt enveloped Lisbon in a warm hug, and, much to her surprise, her boss hugged her tightly back.

"Thank you," Lisbon whispered.

Van Pelt closed her eyes and patted her boss's slim back. "Thank me later, when you're the First Lady."

Lisbon laughed, and it felt good. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves."

"You can't fight fate," said Van Pelt wisely, but she was smiling as she said it.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It had been a long day, and Jane was tired. His head ached, but it was worth the success of the visit to the soldiers, and the dinner he had with his friends and family. Lisbon had sat beside him, and he felt the rightness of it clear to his soul. Occasionally, his hand would rest on her knee beneath the table, but she didn't slap him away, or move her leg. Instead, she would smile at him in such a way that he felt his heart squeeze with emotion.

Sam and Pete had left for home, despite the lure of a luxury hotel suite. Their old silver Airstream was good enough for them, Pete had proclaimed. They promised to visit him in Washington before carnival season started again.

Charlotte took her new computer tablet and her small pile of gift cards to her room for some online shopping, leaving Jane and Lisbon alone. Well, there were still Jim and Daniel, who escorted them back to the top floor in the elevator. They took their places discreetly near the Marines that were guarding the president's penthouse door.

"Good night, sir, ma'am," the agents told them.

"Good night boys," Jane replied, and entered his suite behind a blushing Lisbon.

"You need to sit down and rest," Lisbon told him. "You're looking pale again."

"I will, believe me. First, however, there's the matter of your Christmas present."

"No, please. I wasn't expecting you, wasn't expecting any of this. I don't have a gift for you."

"I don't need anything from you but your company. That's gift enough for me."

She shook her head. "I hope you didn't get me anything too extravagant."

"Don't worry," he said, bending to kiss her lips. "As much as I wanted to cover you with diamonds and emeralds, I didn't. Not this time, anyway. Besides, I knew you would refuse anything that expensive."

Jane went to the suite's walk-in closet, saw that his suitcase had been unpacked for him, the manila envelope he'd been searching for placed neatly on a shelf atop his folded underwear.

He grinned and retrieved it, but his pulse was racing in anticipation.

Would she accept this?

He emerged from the closet and walked over to where she was sitting on his bed.

He put the envelope in her hand with a flourish, settling beside her atop the thick down comforter.

"For you," he said.

She looked at the envelope, then into his eyes in confusion.

"What's this?"

"Well, only one way to find out, isn't there? Open it."

She turned the envelope over, opened the metal brad that sealed it, and pulled out a small sheaf of papers.

It was an application to Quantico, the FBI training facility forty miles away from DC.

"Come and play in my backyard, Agent Lisbon," he said softly.

A/N: So what should poor Lisbon do, eh? Thanks for reading. More soon!