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...).

Thanks to everyone who left a review or put me on fav and7or alerts. Even if I'd like to receive more reviews, good or bad ones it doesn't matter, you still make my day!

By the way: of all the chapters I've written so far, this is porbably the one that's more distant from the original Dickens plot, with less Ghost scenes, and a (slightly) different version of the Christmas Present ghost... I still hope you'll like it, also because it's (not so) slowly going to culminate into the final chapter, (six? seven? I still don't know!) Anyway, good reading. and, If you never read the original Christmas carol, do it, you'll not regret it!

ACT FOUR OR THE SECOND SPIRIT

Awaking in the middle of a prodigiously tough snore, and sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, Jane realizes that the church's bells is signaling the hour of 3 in the morning. He has slept an agitated sleep as he has been through during the last few years of his still young life, but, deep down, he knows the truth. Some force he can't understand has awakened him in the nick of time, right on time for his meeting for the second ghost, like his own father has foreseen.

He paces the room, nervous, and soon Jane finds himself in front of the window, the same that the Ghost of the past Christmas has cast aside. He looks around, he looks under his bed like a scared child would do, he keeps pacing his own room, for the first time scared of something he knows isn't from this plane of existence; his only desire is to be able to not being taken by surprise by the second messenger.

He is ready for the next, strange appearances, and that nothing between a baby and rhinoceros could astonish him very much, but he is really ready? No, he knows it, deep down in his heart he knows it, and like he knows he isn't sure if he'll ever be ready to accept what he truly feels for his savior, Teresa Lisbon. He knows that the Ghost of the past showed him few moments of his past filled by regret (the way he had, that previous year, neglected Lisbon's company, well aware of the sufferance he was causing her), rage (the way his own father forced him to abandon his fellow humans) sufferance (his first Christmas alone, after losing Angie and Charlotte)and guilty because he had spent just a brief time alongside the family he had built for himself, even if he could have done more, much more, if only he had wanted it…

As the bell ring the time of three, he mentally prepares himself to face the second guest of the night, but Jane is taken by surprise not by the spirit itself, but by the lack of appearance.

Nothing, and no one, appears in front of him.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes pass, and still nothing. He just keeps staying awake in his bed, unsure of he really should wait for some kind of apparition. Maybe he never met his father's specter, or the Ghost of the past Christmas.

Then, under the door, he sees it, a bright light, as it was day, coming from the corridor outside the bedroom. the light is hot, and so bright, that he wonders if the sun just set and he didn't noticed it, or if maybe there's a fire into the house. Ha collect all his courage and, slowly, Patrick opens the door, just a bit, a mere crack. And it's in that moment that he hears it, a strange voice, ordering him to move on, to leave the room and join it.

He can't help but obey, because, even if he has never obeyed to any form of authority his whole life, this is something beyond his compression. He HAS to follow the entity's orders, leaving his own room to find himself into… Into his own room again, the same, but, yet, completely different, the same but like it had gone through some kind of surprising transformation: the walls and ceiling are so hung with living green and bright gleaming berries, that it looks like the wall of the secret garden; the crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflect back the light, as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there, and on the centre of the room, something that seems an endless table, with turkeys, geese, sausages, pies, puddings, chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam, and, sitting at the table, facing Jane, stands in all his glory a merry giant (who somehow reminds Jane of Rigsby), busy eating with such a happiness with one hand only, while the other one holds a horn that, lie the first specter's crown, enlightened Jane and his surroundings.

"Come here, man, and join me! Don't you wish to know me better?" he exclaims, leaving the food on the table, with happiness and joviality, and, again, Jane can't help but follow the orders, and, timidly, he joins his "guest" at the table, still somehow scared of meeting the Ghost's gaze, as kind and gentle as it looks. "Mr. Jane, I'm the Ghost of Christmas Present, and I'd rather prefer if you could look at me in the eyes." he says, still gently, and again Jane follows his instructions, meeting his gaze for the first time, with a reverence he has never reserved for another human being; his "guest" is clothed in one simple green robe bordered with white fur, and it hangs so loosely on the figure, that his breast are bare, like his feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment and on his head he wears only a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles, on his long, free, dark brown curls. There's something odd about this specter, Jane can say it, because, even if he knows of what the Christmas specters are able, everything about this giant screams "free", from his genial face to his sparkling eye, from his open hand to his cheery voice, from his unconstrained demeanor to his joyful air.

Actually, he isn't sure if he is dealing with a giant or some twisted mix between the Greek god Bacco and Santa Klaus…

"It looks like you've never seen someone like me before, Mr. Jane!" He exclaims patting Jane on the shoulders with a rigorous laughter.

"I'm afraid I'll have to admit that you're not exactly what I was thinking I was going to meet, whatever it was" he admits, then, as the Ghost roses, he does as well, facing him, but not with force, but on surrounding. "Spirit, conduct me where you have to. I've been told there was a lesson I needed to learn, and I think I'm finally going there. If you wish to teach me anything, please, let me profit of it."

"Good, Mr. Jane. Then, all you have to do is touching my robe" Jane only nods, holding the piece of clothing fast and with all his strength, and as he does so, everything disappear, from the "decorations" the Ghost brought to the room itself, to the night itself. Suddenly, they find themselves in the city streets on Christmas morning, with people busy greeting friends and families and strangers as well, a joyful melody filling the air, as children run everywhere playing with artificial snow, like it could make more real the fact that Christmas has come. The weather is magnificent, as magnificent as winter in California may be, not too cold, and neither too hot, the perfect temperature, and if nothing, it makes everything more perfect, happier, and the bells are singing, all together in the whole city, a concert that fills people's hearts when they gather to reach chapels and churches, flocking through the streets in their best clothes and the happiest smiles, lover embraced and family holding hands.

And then, people who are running the last minute errands and families busy in the kitchen, preparing lunch, no bad words, no anger. The only thing Jane sees, he realizes with tears he no longer tries to hide, is love. He sees the love of parents for their children and vice-versa (a love he hopes, one day, he'll see again on his own, first hand), the love of enamored people (the kind of love he wish he'll be able to share, one day, with Lisbon), and he sees the kind of love he ahs for the team, the love you reserve for the ones that are family without being your blood, your everything without asking for it.

"Let's go, there's something we shall see, my friend" the Ghost says again patting Jane on the shoulders, and in an instant, they are in front first, and then inside, a place the mortal knows too well, even if only once he sat foot there, because even if his body can't be there, his mind and soul agonize to spend the rest of his existence between the walls. Oh, if only he could be there! He'd never ask to leave, if only things were different, and shadows and fears weren't filling his poor, lost and broken soul!

"Teresa…" he whispers with devotion is his voice, getting closer and closer to the only object of his desire. He almost skims over her face, almost runs his finger through her long, dark, naturally curly hair, as he looks at her, busy trying to remedy to a little mess she just did in the kitchen while cooking potatoes, and she looks…

As much as he has always found Teresa Lisbon adorable, nothing can be compared to this, to domestic Lisbon. He knows that the woman he saw years prior into her kitchen, while trying to defend her honor and her honesty from the machinations of an evil man, were just a shade of what she truly was. He knew that Teresa Lisbon may wish to be in control on the job, but was quite the opposite when around people she trusts, and looking at her, dressed with simple sneakers, jeans, a white shirt and a Christmas-themed sweater, with a Christmas themed apron, all dirty, he can't help but find her… he doesn't know if cute is the right way to describe the person you'd wish to spend the rest of your life with, but she is, and his only though is that he'd like to see that same house filled with children with blonde curls and green eyes, or dark curls and blue eyes, and Teresa the same as now…

Even if he has long known his heart belonged to her, he is somehow scared when he admits that it's not only her that he craves, but building a future, a family, a legacy to the world, together.

"Ehy Tess, Jimmy and Carol are here!" a dark haired, green eyed younger man screams as he enters in the kitchen. Jane would like to admit he knows who he is, but he just knows only Lisbon's brothers' names- James (Jimmy), Thomas (Tommy, the youngest, and the most problematic one, but rumors say they have make peace. He should be the one in the kitchen with Teresa) and Andrew. He knows as well that every one of them has already a family of their own (Tommy, who is ten years younger than Lisbon, has just become a dad for the first time, even if he and Melody aren't married yet) and, not for the first time, he finds himself desiring to be there with her, sharing this festivity, this time of year, a part of her life, of their lives.

"Tess!" a woman in her middle thirties, light brown hair, practically runs into the kitchen, jumping on Teresa, embracing her with tears, followed by two young girl, twins, but not equal, of more or less four.

They giggle as they embrace Teresa's legs, and she giggles in return, and it's the most beautiful sound Jane has ever heard in his life.

"Ehy sis, I hope you forgot to turn the mobile off, because there's no way we are going to allow you to run again after your boyfriend!" the man he assumes being James embraces her as well, while Carol is still holding Teresa, and she, in return for the remark he knows is about him, hits her brother on the arm, playfully.

"Patrick Jane isn't my boyfriend, for the last time!"

"Well, you surely spend a lot of time talking about this guy with us… are you sure you're not hiding something, sis? It's not like you have some secret news you have to share with us, right?" Tommy says, making fun of her, while, from the other part of the door, children can be heard playing and adults are busy chatting and finishing arranging the table.

"Ah! I knew it! You've been secretly dating him and now you've decided to elope!" Claire says happily clapping her hands together and jumping, while Teresa's eyes turned as bigger as never before, her face pale like a piece of paper.

"No! I'm not dating Jane! We are not… we are not like that!"

"Sure, that's why you had invited him over for lunch, because you don't like him that way. That's the reason I invited Melody two years ago to our annual Lisbon Christmas Celebration, because we weren't that way…" Tommy says with evident sarcasm while trying with a spoon some of the food that's ready to be soon served, adorning the kitchen table in its entire splendor.

Jane can't help but smile looking at HIS LISBON blushing, a clear sign that, even if they are not dating, and probably never will, her feeling for him run deeper than what she cares to admit.

"Well, you know what? If our dear Mr. Jane would be here, I'd give him a piece of my mind!" another woman, he assumes Andrew's wife, join the conversation, looking mad, with her crossed arms on her merely noticeable baby bump. She should be Sally, and, from what he hears, and the story he has overheard, she is extremely protective of Teresa, even if she is younger than the dark haired cop "He always make Tessie mad, or sad, or both. And last year, because of him, she couldn't make it for Christmas in Chicago! If he was here, I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I hope he'd have a good appetite for it!"

"C'mon Sally, it is Christmas" Teresa reminds her with a pointing finger but a bright smile, so different from the woman he is sued to work with "Besides, you should give the children a good example."

"Good example? Teresa, dear, you should tell him about being a good example! The man is a pain and an asshole, he thinks he is better than all of us, you know he is, Teresa, nobody knows it better than you do, poor soul!"

"Sally, Christmas…" it is Teresa's mild answer, given still smiling, like a good mother than reprimands her children.

"Well, I don't care what you say, from what you say, that's what he is, and I'll never drink to his health. I bet the man is a Grinch."

Jane suffers internally a bit, realizing that the mere mention of his name has cast a shadow upon such a fest, but it is with great happiness that he can see that, just few minutes later, all the joy and the happiness are back, they are ten times merrier than before, and, once gathered around the table in the dining room, that all talk about everything: Andrew talks about his work as a lawyer, and Sally about her father's last wedding; Tommy talks about how he is playing into a band into his free time, while Carol talks about the incoming new Lisbon; Jimmy shares his work-related stories (it comes out he is a detective, back home in Chicago) while Melody spends almost the entire time blushing and avoiding talking, still unsure about how she feels in this family, scared to not being worth them. Even the four children, between three to six years old, share stories from school and friends and life as well.

And there's music, after lunch, with Tommy playing Christmas song on his beloved guitar, with Melody (Oh, what truth behind her name!) singing along with him with an angelic voice.

They have everything they could ask for. They may be far from rich, but they are happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and content, and when they fade in the light of the specter, they couldn't look happier.

He should have said yes, Jane realizes. He should have said yes to Lisbon, he should have accepted everything she had to offer, not only the day together, but her, the whole person she is. He could be hers, and she could be his, if only they could find the courage to say the words out loud and stop hiding behind lies and secrets, behind mask that they don't know any longer how to remove.

Much they see, and far they go, and many homes they visit, but always with a happy end. The Spirit stand beside sick beds, and they are cheerful; on foreign lands, and they are close at home; by struggling men, and they are patient in their greater hope; by poverty, and it is rich. In almshouse, hospital, and jail, in misery's every refuge, where vain man in his little brief authority has not made fast the door and barred the Spirit out, he leave his blessing, and teach Jane his precepts. It is a long night, if it was only a night, but Jane his doubts of this, because the Christmas Holidays appear to be condensed into the space of time they pass together.

Somewhere, a bell signals that it's four o' clock, and as they left his place, back they are, his room as it was before the spirit come to visit him, while the Ghost himself…

"You are…older than when we met, Spirit" Jane asks tentatively looking at the Ghost, no more frightened by him, noticing, not for the first time in the night, how his features, his eyes turned darker, how his long hair are now white, the deep lines on his face "Tell me, Spirit, have your brothers and sister the same short life-spam as you?"

The ghost turns to look at Jane, amused, with the same liberty and joy in his old eyes than when he was younger, and the Mentalist can't help but think again about the fact that this "man" in front of him could, indeed, be Santa Klaus. "I'm the spirit of the Present, Mr. Jane. I see the light every day on midnight as an infant, and I die an old man every day at midnight."

"Spirit?" Jane asks, this time, indeed, scared, but not of the spirit himself, that hasn't bothered him in his voyage, but made his day, showing him how loved the woman who possesses his hearth is, but by what he sees, hidden under the Ghost's robe "Spirit, may I ask you what it is that I'm seeing under your robe? It looks like a foot, but it can't be yours…."

"Oh, those ones…" the ghost scrolls his shoulders with nonchalance, lifting his robe so that Jane could see two children (a boy and a girl), embraced to his legs, wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable, greenish, like they were sick, meager, ragged, scowling, wolfish, but, somehow, prostrating as well, like they could know want humility may be. "Mr. Jane, allow me to introduce to the world's worst children: the boy is Ignorance, while the Girl, you already met in your life and know how to handle, is Want. But, my friend, it's with her brother you have to be careful, because sometimes being ignorant doesn't merely not knowing things, but not admitting them, it means not admitting what other people may need. A mistake you mortals do too often…"

Saying so, with a smile, the Giant vanishes, and Jane looks around himself for the last ghost, his room vibrating. Lifting his eyes to the ceiling, he sees it, a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist towards him….