Chapter Text
The CBI building was buzzing. There was a whir of excitement as the days drizzled down to the holiday period, the festive spirit contagious and uplifting. The otherwise brown, brick and barren halls adorned with tinsel and baubles, a commanding tree complete with twinkling lights and presents at the base, stationed outside the elevator to their floor.
Rigsby clumsily battled a gaudy Christmas decoration with a box under his arm, tasked with getting the breakroom and the cleared area of the bullpen ready for the Christmas party that night. Cho watched him across the room judgementally with bafflement, disapproving of his chosen method of execution, as he sat and finished the last of the paperwork from the case they just closed. Grace, the human embodiment of the Christmas spirit, a distinct pep in her step, as she sourced the scotch tape needed to help Rigsby with their mission.
"You coming tonight, boss?" Grace asked Lisbon cheerily, rifling around her desk drawers.
"I have to. Minelli's orders. Company morale and all that."
"Well you needn't sound so morose about it," Jane butted into their conversation from his old leather couch. "It is a party after all. They're supposed to be fun"
Socialising with the entire office was never really her speed. She'd much rather be home alone with a pint of ice-cream and a good old movie.
"Well I'm glad you're going, boss," Van Pelt said with a smile. "It will be nice to unwind, spend a bit of time outside together of case hours"
"What about you?" Lisbon punched at Jane with a flick of her chin. "You going?"
"Where else do I have to be?" he answered without lifting his eyes from his book.
"Cho and Rigsby are coming as well. It should be a fun night," Grace said with a smile as she flounced off with a skip.
"Can't wait," Lisbon said dryly, her sheer lack of enthusiasm eliciting a subtle smirk from Jane as he turned another page of his book.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The day turned into night and the office was transformed. Lisbon snuck her way back into the office about an hour after she was supposed to be there. The harmony of Christmas tunes accompanied the whir of jovial chatter, a juxtaposition to the normal macabre tedium of their floor. She sauntered her way in at the back of the bullpen trying not to bring any attention to herself, only to be affronted by one Patrick Jane, sipping the last dregs from a cocktail glass, perched in his usual spot on his leather couch, apathetically watching the circulating crowd before him. Still dressed in his three-piece suit, the only hint of Christmas to his outfit was a holiday-themed pocket square in his breast pocket, which upon further inspection was merely a napkin.
"Nice of you to finally show up," he jaunted at her as she flopped next to him on the couch.
"What do you mean? I've been here the whole time."
He laughed. "You're a terrible liar. But your secret's safe with me."
"Thanks," she laughed with him. "What have I missed so far?"
"Not much. Minelli's drunk already. Cho makes a killer mojito, I do highly recommend"
"I'll have to try one"
"You do indeed," he concurred. "Tommy from security has been staking out the mistletoe sprig like a lion watching a herd of antelope. Be careful, he's caught out two unsuspecting victims already."
"Noted. Thanks for the tip"
"Although that mistletoe's proving to be quite the hit tonight," he observed, nodding in its direction, underneath it, Suzie from the top floor planting a cheeky fleeting smack on the lips of Carl.
"Oh wow," Lisbon punctuated in surprise.
"Go get yourself some of that party sub before it disappears. And shall I go grab us a couple of cocktails from Cho?" he suggested, twerking his empty cocktail glass in her direction. "I need a refill."
"Now that sounds like a plan of yours I can actually get on board without too much skeptical analysis," she said with a grin, springing to her feet.
"It's a Christmas miracle," he grinned back.
She zig-zagged through the bodies of her merry colleagues finding the table with the assorted array of catering. She filled a plate and returned to Jane on the couch. The sub was average, but her stomach growled for it. She suddenly remembered she hadn't really eaten that day. It was probably advisable that she lined her stomach with something before sinking too many of Cho's infamous cocktails and unwittingly becoming Tommy's next victim.
She sat and ate and sipped with Jane, making crude observations about their colleagues and poking each other to stitches. Her antisocial personality enjoyed the people-watching infinitely more than people-intermingling. That and there was something so relaxed and familiar about having a laugh with Jane.
The mistletoe proved to be a hit once more with two other colleagues from upstairs, sharing a quick peck and cheeky laugh, only to pull each other in once more for a slightly more amorous round 2.
"Ahh, look at the fools," Jane kidded with a smile. "When was the last time you had a big ole snog?" he shot at her out of nowhere
"Excuse me?" his question surprising and perturbing, eliciting a reaction of sheer disgust.
"A snog. A pash. A proper canoodle. A spit-swapping game of tonsil hockey. Sucked face. Indulged in the lips of a man," he elaborated, shamelessly feeding off of her less-than-impressed reaction as he rambled away. "Or a woman, if that's more your speed," he added as a final predation.
"You're ridiculous, undignified, and inappropriate"
"Oh come on, Lisbon. You're a woman, there's no shame in admitting you have needs too."
"And it's not something I'm discussing with you. Period."
"The liquor is flowing, there's a sprig dangling from the ceiling specifically put in place to justify the lowering of inhibitions and just general bad choices. And no one will think twice of it in the morning. A good-looking lass like yourself, you could have your pick of the bunch."
She gave him the best exasperated and unimpressed look she could muster.
"I'm sure Ron is a very good kisser," he nodded in the direction of their moustached colleague, perched upon a desk, drinking alone. "Gentlemanly. Generous. Ample tongue," he enunciated each word pointedly.
"Ugh, hush," she admonished.
"Isn't there anyone here you'd want a free pass at making out with? Anyone you've caught yourself thinking about inappropriately?"
Yeah. You. Her mind involuntarily leaping immediately to places she strictly forbade it to go before she could stop it. Shit. She desperately tried to avoid his eyes as he attentively stared at her fishing for answers and she scolded her rebellious, betraying brain.
"Nope," she denied, her voice an octave higher than usual.
"So there is, but you're embarrassed to admit it… I'm sensing some shame there. Is it a married man? Or someone completely off-bounds for another reason? No?"
She raised her eyebrows at him and remained silent, forcing her mind elsewhere so his nuisance mentalist probes couldn't take hold of her inner brain.
"You're getting a lot better at blocking me out, and I don't like it."
"Good. What can I say? I've been working on my poker face."
"Hmmm," he grumbled.
"And you're one to talk, why aren't you under there yourself, raking in all the ladies."
"Now why would I want to do that?"
"Oh come on, Jane. You're a man, there's no shame in admitting you have needs," she needled his own words back at him, her voice a pitch higher and ripe with sarcasm.
He laughed. "Yeah okay, I deserved that."
She smiled shamelessly. It was always satisfying to put Jane in his place.
"Care for a wager?" he asked with a wave of enthusiasm.
"With you? No. You've taken enough of my money."
"And made you a lot of money if I remember correctly"
"Exactly. And precisely why I won't bet against you"
"Mmm, fine. You are as wise as you are good-looking. Just flat out predictions then."
"Predictions from the psychic, what a wild Christmas," she mused back, ignoring his second stab at blatant flattery in the hopes it would make her blush less.
"No such thing as psychics," he repeated his mantra. "Just observant."
"Okay, shoot. What have you got?"
"Tommy's going to get slapped by the end of the night"
"An obvious one, an amateur could've made that prediction"
"Not impressed? Hmmm, okay," he grinned at her, his brain ticking to pull out the big guns. "Rigsby and Van Pelt will get hot and heavy, and unless you throw a bucket of cold water on them, they're going to be breaking a certain regulation tonight"
"Ugh, no! Really? You think? Van Pelt has more sense than that."
"I wish I could agree with you"
She watched the red-haired beauty across the room cradle her drink, politely making conversation with Ron and Carl despite obvious disinterest, her eyes frequently darting in the direction of Rigsby helping Cho with making drinks
"Damn," Lisbon whispered under her breath.
"Minelli, he's going to corner you into a waltz or a jig of some description," Jane continued
"Not if I hide well enough"
"Good luck with that"
They laughed together.
"And lastly, you'll get your Christmas wish before the night is through"
"And what might that be?"
"I don't know, you tell me," he smiled. "But there seems to be a festive kind of magic in the air tonight.
"That's ridiculous. I don't have a Christmas wish, I don't have anything of the sort." She strained her brain. She honestly didn't have anything that could remotely be considered a 'Christmas wish.' She bore a mild cynicism for the season. It was just another month of the year, albeit one in which she had to deal with a lot more of these social situations. "You're getting rusty in your lack of practice, my charlatan friend."
Jane rested his hand on his chin, pulling a pensive expression. "I guess we'll have to wait and see," he said cagily. "But I'm glad to hear you consider me a friend."
She hadn't put much consideration into her choice of words. Her banter apparently proving more touching to the lone wolf consultant than she intended. But she was glad.
At that point her social avoidance strategy had reached its expiration, Cho extracting her from the couch to come and join them in a debate with Rigsby and the narcotics team. She gave Jane a look of dread as Cho ferried her away.
The narcotics team were a stubborn bunch, with a more pronounced hint of arrogance once lubricated with liquor. Not that she had anything much nicer to say about the two men in her own team, as they engaged in a solid debate about complete and utter nonsense.
It wasn't long before a loud crack and gasp punctuated the jolly Christmas tunes. Everyone's heads whipped around to poor Tommy, still standing under the mistletoe, nursing his cheek. The acrimonious Tamsin Wade from the gang unit bore holes in him through a hateful glare, steam almost flowing from her ears, shaking her hand in satisfaction. Lisbon caught Jane's line of sight from across the room and gave him a knowing nod. He returned an 'I told you so' shrug, looking cockily impressed with himself.
She managed to escape the conversation and pour herself another drink of cherry cola. With a fleeting thought, she poured a second one, and retired back to Jane's couch, handing him the second red cup as she sat.
"Thanks," he said as he accepted it, "so who won that argument?"
"Neither. It was like a bunch of cavemen arguing over a dead antelope. That was a blow to CBI intelligence and dignity as a whole."
"Testosterone is a wonderful thing."
"How have you managed to keep to yourself all the way over here?"
"Pretty simple really. People are either scared of me, or have a great dislike for me. Not that it would be overly difficult to change that perspective, but it allows me to keep my peace as I see fit."
She gave an approving nod and frown. He worked in odd ways, but he made an awful lot of sense sometimes.
"You got that bucket of cold water handy?" he asked nodding in the direction of a crowd that had formed, a chorus of sing-songy "oooooo's" echoing from the cluster. Jane chuckled with amusement.
She gave Jane one last despondent look and sprung to her feet, curiously joining the gaggle that had formed. In the center it, a jumble of roaming arms and red hair, underneath the ominous hanging green sprig. Rigsby and Van Pelt amorously conjoined at the mouth with a thirsty passion that made Lisbon think they may have forgotten they had an audience.
"All right, break it up!" she exclaimed, to a smattering of "boo's" from the liquored crowd that had gathered, including a forlornly jealous Tommy.
"HEY!" she yelled again, as they seemingly hadn't heard her the first time.
They released, lips swollen and cheeks a-blush. A similar colour to Lisbon's cheeks but for an entirely different reason. The duo, although separated at the mouth, remained conjoined at the eyes, in a lustful, salacious gaze, locked and longing.
Lisbon looked from one of her agents to the other, with a contemptible look of disgust.
"All right. Both of you. My office. Now," she ordered in her most boss-like voice, a tone of annoyance blatant.
Jane looked on through the blinds from a distance. Lisbon pacing her office, Rigsby and Van Pelt seated on other sides of the room, looking into their hands as Lisbon continued her animated tirade with gusto. He chuckled to himself. They looked like a couple of teens in the principal's office. He admired Lisbon's futile perspicacity, knowing that her shrewd lecturing was only a means of delaying the inevitable.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The night and the songs continued. Foolish Christmas party games were played, much to everyone's hilarity and delight, including Cho and Rigsby schooling everyone in a game of Christmas charades.
A red-faced Minelli clearly enjoying the tomfoolery muchly, dancing enthusiastically with dear Edith, an older lady from the records department. The sheer joy in both their eyes brought a smile to Lisbon's face.
Rigsby and Van Pelt kept a cautious distance, exchanging intermittent blushing looks. Rigsby taking over Cho's role as mixologist to keep himself out of trouble. But truth be told, not much could ruin his night, the goofy grin yet to leave his face.
She looked over at Jane, as she often found her eyes wandering, searching him out. He had migrated from his couch and joined cautiously in the festivities. For someone so charismatic and used to spotlight, she found it odd he wasn't naturally taking the center of attention. She laughed out loud when Edith abandoned Minelli, finding herself a younger dance partner in Jane, not ashamed to get a little bit handsy, making Jane's eyes grow to the size of dinner plates. Jane entertaining the older lady like a gentleman.
Although she shouldn't have laughed so soon.
"Lisbon!" a voice snapping her attention, as a sweaty palm grabbed her hand.
A well-liquored Minelli tugged her toward the space people were dancing before she could rationally object. He spun and twirled her, and cha-cha-ed away to Rocking Around The Christmas Tree, proving to be quite agile for an older man. She exchanged looks with Jane, still confined to Edith's libidinous grasp, giving him a knowing eye roll as another one of his self-proclaimed predictions came to life.
As the clock chipped closer to 11pm, Lisbon thought she'd paid her mandated social dues sufficiently, and looked to make an exit from the party. Despite it all, it wasn't a bad evening. So many smiles, so much laughter. Everyone just seemed to be having a good time and enjoying themselves, which was some what of a rarity in their line of work. She hesitantly admitted to herself that she had surprisingly enjoyed the night too.
"Well 3 out of 4 ain't bad," Lisbon said to Jane cheerily, as he went to pass on her jacket.
"What do you mean?"
"Well 3 out of 4 of your predictions materialised…"
"Ah yes. Your Christmas wish. Well, the night is not yet over Lisbon"
"Uh, it is for me. I'm going home."
He chuckled. "Yeah, me too. Let me walk you to your car."
He held out her jacket as she slid both arms in, shrugging it up to her shoulders.
They ambled through the concrete parking lot under the building. It was mostly deserted. A smattering of cars of those who either committed to not drinking themselves silly or had come to terms with leaving their cars there and taking a taxi home. Random fluorescent lights flickered intermittently with the cold chill of the December night's air.
"Lisbon," Jane stopped abruptly, as they almost reached her car. He put an arm out in front of her, blocking her way as he braced himself against a pillar, an unusual expression upon his face.
"Jane, what is it?"
He locked eyes with her. His ocean eyes hypnotic as he stared into hers intently. Questioningly searching, reading her features like the suspenseful part of a novel. She was close enough to count the flecks in his eyes.
Their proximity suddenly struck her. His face barely a foot away from hers, her body between him and the pillar he was now leaning on. She looked up at him just as questioningly as her mouth went dry.
"I just wanted to confirm my suspicions," he finally said.
"And what might that be?" she managed in barely a whisper.
"I think you already know," he mirrored her whisper, his face breaking into a soft grin as his eyes darted upwards, encouraging hers to follow.
A sprig of mistletoe hanging from the parking garage ceiling.
She gulped. Not knowing whether to argue, or defensively banter, or give in to carnal gluttony. After all, it justified the lowered inhibitions and just general bad choices. And no one would think twice of it in the morning.
"You put that there, didn't you?" she whispered breathily. She bit her bottom lip, unable to tear her eyes away from him.
"I don't make the mistletoe rules Lisbon. And you're not one that makes a habit of breaking rules."
He took a step toward her. Or maybe it was she who took a step toward him. Her heart pounded.
"I could tell exactly where your mind jumped to earlier," he said softly, in almost a growl
"I don't know what you're talking about," she squeaked.
"The place you strictly forbid it from going. The desires you repress."
She licked her lips to moisten them in an unwitting admission. She felt her cheeks burn. His face drifted closer and closer to hers, his eyes boring into hers filled with a needy, yearning desire she had never seen before.
"If I'm wrong, just say the word"
Oh but he wasn't wrong. But it didn't mean this was right. No fraternising within the unit, she had just given that lecture earlier. Not that she felt anything for Jane except a shallow lust in appreciation of his looks. Oh and the inherent need to protect him… and to prevent him from drowning in his own sorrow… and perhaps the way her heart thumped and her spine tingled from the way he was looking at her now.
"So unless you stop me," his voice just a husky whisper now as the distance between them grew smaller again, "I'm going to kiss you now."
He paused a half an inch away, their noses gently touching, his shaky breath upon her lips, giving her the chance to react, pull away, anything. But she stayed, frozen in anticipation, her own lips covering the distance, grazing his barely. Her breath hitched. She closed her eyes and his lips met hers.
It was slow, at first. Gentle. A soft caress as they came to terms with crossing the line. His lips a little rough, hers soft with the sweet taste of cherry cola, the sensation of their embrace emanating throughout their bodies. She parted her lips gently, coiling her hands around the back of his neck, pulling him in and tiptoeing in the need to be closer.
And then they threw all caution to the wind.
She opened her mouth further to allow him in deeper. One hand still bracing himself against the pillar, the other snaked around her waist, his hand on the small of her back as he pulled her body into be flushed with his. The attraction, the forbidden, the illicit exhilaration. Hungrily exploring each other in a new light, his tongue enveloping hers as he released an involuntary low carnal growl. A whimper of a moan her only achievable response as she fully lost herself in him and that moment.
And then just like that, it was over. Her cheeks a rosy red, her lips slightly pulsating… not unlike Van Pelt's were before. They exchanged an awkwardly shy giggle. He raked a hand through his blonde curls, momentarily lost for words just as much as she was.
"Uh…" she attempted to begin, with not much to follow.
He smiled. "Merry Christmas, Lisbon"
She smiled bashfully and nodded in return. "Merry Christmas, Jane"
He gave her shoulders a caring squeeze and about faced into winter's night, hands stuffed in his pockets. Irrationally, she could sense he was smiling, even with his back turned. The same foolish radiant beam that she had stretched across her own face.
And just like Jane had called it. Her Christmas wish came true.