Oh, yes, the damn disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real...meanwhile, I just "write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed bu the light of reason..." (No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...).

ACT ONE OR DIFFERENT VIEWS ON THE CHRISTMAS TOPIC

"Okay, people, I'm leaving, and since I don't plan on seeing you until New Year's Eve, Happy Christmas to you all!" As she leaves her office radiant, putting on her black leather jacket, Lisbon turns to look at all her team-mates, cheerfully. She has never been exactly one for mixing office and private life, but Christmas comes only once a year, and it's the only time of the year she behaves like any other normal human being, also because she has always liked the festivity – it was the only time of the year when her family behaved like any other family, and they celebrated life instead of sufferance.

So, yes, she loves Christmas, unlike someone else in the office, someone who's currently moaning his discomfort at the thought of the celebration on his couch. "Merry Christmas here, merry Christmas there… I don't see why the world is supposed to be merry; I don't see why we are supposed to be merry! Everybody's poorer and our job is to deal with murderers!"

"Murderers that we often catch, Jane, allowing people to get closure. Besides, don't you think that, considering that we have to deal with death every day we could need a break once in a while? That's what Christmas is, after all." Teresa tries her best to be positive, to make him change idea, even if she is well aware of the subtext of his words. They deal with murders every day, and even if they often catch them, the one who plagues their minds, the mind of every one of them, the one who destroyed Jane's life, is still at large.

"Bullshit" he just murmurs, hoping that she'll not hear him. Teresa Lisbon and Christmas are like the same side of the same coin, she IS the Christmas spirit made flesh; it's only when he sees her indignant expression he realizes she did hear him, and stops her before she could even think about starting her defense of the festivity "Please, Lisbon, the world is full of fools. Be merry you say? At Christmas you only find yourself poorer, and you get to work extra hours because there's an escalation of homicides and suicides, and in few days time, you are a year older and nothing changed in your life!" she makes a face, not sure how to see this. Of course, with the New Year approaching, they're not any closer to catching Red John, but there's also a more personal meaning, at least for Lisbon. With New Year approaching, she'll be a year older, and nothing has changed in her life. She's still not having a family of her own, she sis till single, no husband, boyfriend or kids, just few friends, and too much responsibility.

And my unrequited feelings for Patrick Jane are still here. Another year passed, and I haven't been able to move on past my love for him, even if I know that he doesn't love me back, even if I know that there's nothing I can do to change his mind about his quest for revenge, even if I like to think otherwise…

"You know, I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were the same, and not another race, someone… lesser. So, yes Jane, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good, ergo, Merry Christmas, Mr. Jane!"

Jane emits a sound that seems like a grunt, as he leaves his spot on the couch and Joins Lisbon where she stands in front of him, with hands on her hips, he claps his hands, making fun of her, and, even if he is the one saying that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, it's with the voice full of sarcasm that he talks. "My compliments, Lisbon, you managed to convince me that Christmas is the happiest time of the year and everyone has reasons to be merry. I wonder why you never thought about a political carrier, really, you'll be the first female president if you just try, I'm sure of it!"

"C'mon Jane, don't be mean and just come to dinner to me tomorrow. Come to celebrate with me and my brothers. Apparently, James doesn't believe you're the pain I told them you are, and they want to see it for real. Please?"

"Mmmmm, let me think about it…no! – and saying so, he leaves in direction of the stairs, with Lisbon just standing still and sad where they just spoke – Good evening, Lisbon!"

"Jane, c'mon, I'm not asking you to change your mind about Christmas, just, for once, could you try to behave like we are actually friends? It's all I'm asking you!" She shouts at his back, while he is already moving. "Besides, I know you are going to spend Christmas on your own!"

"As I said, Lisboan, good evening, see you in few days!" And with that, he leaves, and even if he doesn't see her tears, it doesn't mean he isn't aware of the fact that she is crying, because of him, like often, like always.

But they are not friends, they've never been. She has been a mean to an end, at the beginning, but the more he stayed at her side (and the more she stayed at his side), the more things changed.

Teresa Lisbon isn't his friend. Teresa Lisbon isn't a mean to an end. Teresa Lisbon is the only reason he still wakes up in the morning, the only reason he still breathes, he hasn't committed suicide yet, she is the light in his darkness – and he knows that his feelings for her are reciprocated. He has known she was in love with him long before he admitted his own feelings for the petite brunette (at least, to himself).

But it doesn't matter. Loving him would be the end of her, it would eventually kill her, and he can't stand the thought of having to deal with the loss of another beloved one because of few hours of happiness and pleasure. For her own sake, she'll never have to learn of how much she means for him, of how much he loves her.