Mistletoe and Red Wine (6/8)
Title: Mistletoe and Red Wine
Author: tromana
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Jane/Lisbon, team
Summary: One of Santa's elves has been killed - and Jane and Lisbon are trying to teach each other the spirit of Christmas.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: Up to 4x06 Where In The World Is Carmine O'Brien
Notes: Written for frogster_15 in the Paint It Red Gift Exchange 2011 and Table I for mentalistprompt.
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five
Part Six
Lisbon was yawning when she arrived at work the next morning, with a polystyrene cup of coffee in hand. She had spent half the night straightening up her house, ready for Annabeth’s impending arrival. Sometimes, she wondered just how the hell her place managed to get so messy; she barely spent any time at home, really. After all, she never had any problems keeping her office tidy and she definitely spent way more waking hours there than in her own lounge.
She sighed. That was kind of a sad statistic, when she thought about it. Still, she headed straight to her office. Really, she needed to finish typing up her transcript of the interview with Tristan Stevens. Then, Lisbon had to consider how to locate the ex-boyfriend, Henry. And of course, throughout the entire day, she’d have to keep an eye on her watch, to make sure she was home in time to meet Annabeth.
The morning disappeared all too quickly. A meeting with Wainwright, updating him on the current case, ate the majority of her time; her young superior hadn’t seemed to have heard of time-keeping skills just yet. Then, she had to discover where the team had gotten with O’Hanlon, to discover that the answer was merely ‘not very’. His lawyer had attempted to justify his sabotage as him simply gathering together the deceased’s belongings in order to return them to the girl’s parents. In the end, they’d simply had to cut him loose and put him under surveillance. If something else popped, then maybe, they’d have a chance of working out what his role really was in the murder.
However, Van Pelt had brought up something interesting about O’Hanlon’s daughter, Georgia. After interviewing her, apparently Van Pelt had done a quick bit of research. It turned out that the girl was currently dating the victim’s ex, Henry. Naturally, that had immediately piqued both Jane’s and her own interest and therefore, they were headed towards the boy’s place, with Van Pelt in tow. After all, the youngest member of Lisbon’s team had been partially responsible for digging out the potential motive and therefore, deserved to have the opportunity to play some part in chasing him down. Of course, the fact that he had dated both girls didn’t mean that he - or Georgia - were responsible, it just meant it was something intriguing to look into.
“Jane?” Lisbon said as they pulled up in front of the O’Hanlon residence. “Jane!”
“Huh? What?”
“Do you want to put that away?”
She indicated towards the MP3 player that was clutched in his hands and the headphones firmly in his ears. When he eventually got the message, he nodded vigorously, paused whatever it was he was listening to and stared at her, with an uncharacteristically grumpy expression on his face.
“We’re here.”
“But I was listening to Nat King Cole.”
“Not The Christmas Song, I hope,” Lisbon replied, fighting against the urge to laugh.
“Yes, what else?” he answered back with a sudden, more atypical, smile.
“It’s too early!”
She was surprised when Van Pelt joined in with the chorus. Lisbon had always thought that Van Pelt was the one who was most enthusiastic about holidays and the like, so the fact she actually agreed with her took her a little off-guard. Still, at least it was only Jane who seemed to refuse to see sense and that meant Van Pelt wouldn’t be joining him in driving her slowly, but surely, insane with Christmas related nonsense.
“Oh, Van Pelt, not you too?”
“Not me, what?” she asked, oblivious.
“Never mind,” Lisbon swiftly answered, leaving Van Pelt even more bemused as they climbed out of the car. “We’ve got a job to do.”
As Jane stepped outside and stretched his back, a soccer ball came flying out of nowhere. It hit him square on the back of his head and Lisbon turned to see him stumbling a few steps. Quickly, she rushed to his side and with Van Pelt’s assistance, helped to steady him. Unsurprisingly enough, he seemed pretty dazed and confused. Then again, the last time he’d received a knock to the head, he’d briefly slipped into unconsciousness and refused to accept any medical treatment. This time, however, Lisbon was determined that she was going to put her foot down. If he needed help - which he probably would - he was going to get it.
“I’m sorry, it was my-” somebody, a man no older than twenty, said, as he rushed up to join them.
Lisbon promptly ignored the boy; she’d deal with him later. Right now, she had to worry about looking after Jane and making sure that he saw sense.
“Jane. How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Oh, pretty.”
“What are?” Lisbon said, the concern laced in her voice. Briefly, she looked at her own hand, wondering what the hell he was referring to.
“The fireflies.”
“It’s the middle of the day; there are no fireflies.”
“Are they string lights then?”
“There aren’t any string lights either,” she insisted and helped him sit back in the car. “I think you should go to the ER. Van Pelt?”
“Yes, boss?”
She handed Van Pelt the key to the CBI-issue vehicle quickly. “I want you to take him to hospital and make sure that he actually sees somebody.”
“Yes, boss.”
It was a relief when she watched Jane and Van Pelt disappear off into the distance. Usually, Jane caused a fuss about being sent to see a medic and he had been surprisingly agreeable this time around. Briefly, she surmised that it was because the soccer ball had either been significantly larger than the baseball that had hit him previously, or that it had actually succeeded in knocking some sense into him. Still, she rounded on the boy who, despite being a good seven or so inches taller than her, cowered under her glare.
“We were just playing soccer out in the yard and-”
“Are you Henry Cousins?”
“Yes,” he answered dubiously. “Why?”
“Teresa Lisbon, CBI. I need to talk to you and Georgia O’Hanlon about Amie Stevens.”
“Oh,” he answered, sounding small. “Oh. Yeah.”
The look on his face suggested that he had expected her to come knocking sooner or later. Silently, he beckoned her towards the O’Hanlon residence, where Georgia was leaning up against the door, wondering what had distracted her boyfriend for so long. The frown on the girl’s face deepened when she recognized Lisbon.
“Babe, this is Teresa-”
“I know who she is.”
“Can I have a few words with you about Amie Stevens?” Lisbon asked politely, though she was already irritated by Georgia’s obvious resentment.
“Didn’t that red-haired chick ask everything you needed yesterday? When you were busy harassing my father?”
“Obviously not,” she answered dryly.
With a shrug, Georgia let Lisbon inside and led her through to the lounge. There, she and Henry answered all of her questions as swiftly as possible before making it clear that Lisbon was no longer welcome. When she left, Lisbon frowned. She could have done with more information from the pair about their relationship and how Amie had slotted into it. She suspected that Henry had been fonder of Amie than he let on, but wouldn’t tell her any more because of Georgia’s presence. In a way, it was a shame Jane wasn’t around. He always managed to coerce information out of young adults so easily. She, however, found it rather like trying to drain blood from a stone.
When Cho picked her up, she asked him to drop her off at home. While the rest of the team were busy working the case, she had spent longer than she had anticipated with the O’Hanlon girl and her boyfriend. She was already running late when it came to greeting Annabeth and she knew that her niece would be growing impatient. In reality, she knew that she probably should have cancelled this impromptu visit, but at the same time, she felt compelled to do it. Seeing Tommy so recently meant that she did feel like she should at least try and make more time for her family. Besides, all Jane’s chatter about Christmas cheer made her realize that, despite the friction, she did need to see them at this time of year. It was the right thing to do, after all.
Of course, the last person she expected to greet her at home, along with Annabeth, was Jane. He was meant to be in hospital, being checked up for head injuries, after all.
Then again, being Jane, of course he wouldn’t follow instructions. Sometimes, she wondered how she still managed to slip up around him. She always assumed that she’d known him for long enough not to fall for his silly mind games by now.
“Teaching my niece how to pick locks now? Classy,” Lisbon remarked when Jane sprung up.
“Aunt Reese!” Annabeth said, almost squeaking as she did so. She hadn’t expected Lisbon home quite so soon.
“It’s not how it looks,” Jane protested.
“Oh really? You were both crouched over it, with a bent paperclip in hand,” she answered back, smiling a little. “I’d say it looks exactly like that.”
“Well, okay, you’re right, but in my defense,” he started and took a couple of steps towards her. “It isn’t breaking and entering. I had your key.”
“And where did you get that, I wonder?”
“From your pocket?”
Automatically, she felt in her pocket for her personal keys, knowing full well Van Pelt had the one for the van. Lisbon rolled her eyes when she realized Jane was telling the truth and she snatched them back. Opening the door, she beckoned in both Annabeth and Jane. She wasn’t angry, not really. This was the kind of parlor tricks she had expected of him. What she hadn’t expected was that Jane would see her niece before she had a chance to today. Automatically, she headed towards the kitchen and dragged out three mugs. Coffee for herself and Annabeth, tea for Jane. There was no point in even asking. She knew exactly what they’d want.
“So, this is where you’ve been this afternoon?”
Jane shrugged. “I figured you’d be too distracted to meet Annie.”
“I could have done with you, you know.”
“Meh, you had it under control.”
Lisbon raised a suspicious eyebrow and Jane ignored it. Instead, he handed her the milk and sugar, ready to make up the coffees.
“Or were you just avoiding being taken to the ER?” Lisbon asked him critically. “Because really…”
“What happened?” Annabeth piped up, excited at the concept of action. “Were guns-”
“No,” Lisbon said, cutting her off. “He got hit round the head with a soccer ball.”
Annabeth let out an undignified snort and leaned up against the counter. Lisbon watched as her niece’s eyes danced with mirth at the concept of somebody as cool as Jane doing something as idiotic as that. Then again, Annabeth barely knew Jane and didn’t realize just the amount of mayhem he generally caused around the workplace.
“I have an aversion to sports,” Jane remarked, causing Annabeth to laugh some more.
“Oh,” she eventually said, when she’d calmed down. “How come you-”
“Annie…”
“Fine, I only wanted to help,” Annabeth said, sounding dejected. “Can I borrow your laptop?”
“Go ahead.”
“Thanks.”
Quickly, she swiped her coffee and disappeared off into the lounge, leaving Jane and Lisbon alone. As he sipped at his tea, Lisbon eyed him warily. When he didn’t grimace in disgust, she was almost proud. Jane was so fussy about his tea, that it was almost a miracle whenever somebody managed to prepare it just right for him. But still, his approval of her tea-making skills was neither here nor there. What was a concern was whether or not he was okay.
“I’m fine, Lisbon. There’s no need to look so nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” she said, quickly denying it.
“Oh sure you’re not. Which is why you look like you’re convinced I’m going to faint at any given moment.”
“You received another serious head injury under my care.”
“The doctors said I’m fine.”
“Really? So if I call them…”
“You can ask Van Pelt, if you really don’t believe me.”
Lisbon sighed and placed her coffee down. Suddenly she wasn’t in the mood.
“Why are you here?”
“I told you, to see Annie. I knew it’d be a while before you could leave the O’Hanlon’s.”
“Thanks. I guess.”
He smiled as he finished his tea, albeit rather more quickly than he apparently would have liked. Lisbon continued to watch him nervously; though he insisted he’d received the all-clear and that he hadn’t had any funny turns lately, she still couldn’t be entirely sure. Besides, the brain was a strange organ. You could never be one hundred percent sure when it came to head injuries. What if the problems simply hadn’t manifested themselves yet?
“I’d better be off, thanks for the tea,” he said politely. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No you won’t” she started, as he disappeared through the door. “I have the day… off.”
TBC…
To Part Seven
Author: tromana
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Jane/Lisbon, team
Summary: One of Santa's elves has been killed - and Jane and Lisbon are trying to teach each other the spirit of Christmas.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: Up to 4x06 Where In The World Is Carmine O'Brien
Notes: Written for frogster_15 in the Paint It Red Gift Exchange 2011 and Table I for mentalistprompt.
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five
Part Six
Lisbon was yawning when she arrived at work the next morning, with a polystyrene cup of coffee in hand. She had spent half the night straightening up her house, ready for Annabeth’s impending arrival. Sometimes, she wondered just how the hell her place managed to get so messy; she barely spent any time at home, really. After all, she never had any problems keeping her office tidy and she definitely spent way more waking hours there than in her own lounge.
She sighed. That was kind of a sad statistic, when she thought about it. Still, she headed straight to her office. Really, she needed to finish typing up her transcript of the interview with Tristan Stevens. Then, Lisbon had to consider how to locate the ex-boyfriend, Henry. And of course, throughout the entire day, she’d have to keep an eye on her watch, to make sure she was home in time to meet Annabeth.
The morning disappeared all too quickly. A meeting with Wainwright, updating him on the current case, ate the majority of her time; her young superior hadn’t seemed to have heard of time-keeping skills just yet. Then, she had to discover where the team had gotten with O’Hanlon, to discover that the answer was merely ‘not very’. His lawyer had attempted to justify his sabotage as him simply gathering together the deceased’s belongings in order to return them to the girl’s parents. In the end, they’d simply had to cut him loose and put him under surveillance. If something else popped, then maybe, they’d have a chance of working out what his role really was in the murder.
However, Van Pelt had brought up something interesting about O’Hanlon’s daughter, Georgia. After interviewing her, apparently Van Pelt had done a quick bit of research. It turned out that the girl was currently dating the victim’s ex, Henry. Naturally, that had immediately piqued both Jane’s and her own interest and therefore, they were headed towards the boy’s place, with Van Pelt in tow. After all, the youngest member of Lisbon’s team had been partially responsible for digging out the potential motive and therefore, deserved to have the opportunity to play some part in chasing him down. Of course, the fact that he had dated both girls didn’t mean that he - or Georgia - were responsible, it just meant it was something intriguing to look into.
“Jane?” Lisbon said as they pulled up in front of the O’Hanlon residence. “Jane!”
“Huh? What?”
“Do you want to put that away?”
She indicated towards the MP3 player that was clutched in his hands and the headphones firmly in his ears. When he eventually got the message, he nodded vigorously, paused whatever it was he was listening to and stared at her, with an uncharacteristically grumpy expression on his face.
“We’re here.”
“But I was listening to Nat King Cole.”
“Not The Christmas Song, I hope,” Lisbon replied, fighting against the urge to laugh.
“Yes, what else?” he answered back with a sudden, more atypical, smile.
“It’s too early!”
She was surprised when Van Pelt joined in with the chorus. Lisbon had always thought that Van Pelt was the one who was most enthusiastic about holidays and the like, so the fact she actually agreed with her took her a little off-guard. Still, at least it was only Jane who seemed to refuse to see sense and that meant Van Pelt wouldn’t be joining him in driving her slowly, but surely, insane with Christmas related nonsense.
“Oh, Van Pelt, not you too?”
“Not me, what?” she asked, oblivious.
“Never mind,” Lisbon swiftly answered, leaving Van Pelt even more bemused as they climbed out of the car. “We’ve got a job to do.”
As Jane stepped outside and stretched his back, a soccer ball came flying out of nowhere. It hit him square on the back of his head and Lisbon turned to see him stumbling a few steps. Quickly, she rushed to his side and with Van Pelt’s assistance, helped to steady him. Unsurprisingly enough, he seemed pretty dazed and confused. Then again, the last time he’d received a knock to the head, he’d briefly slipped into unconsciousness and refused to accept any medical treatment. This time, however, Lisbon was determined that she was going to put her foot down. If he needed help - which he probably would - he was going to get it.
“I’m sorry, it was my-” somebody, a man no older than twenty, said, as he rushed up to join them.
Lisbon promptly ignored the boy; she’d deal with him later. Right now, she had to worry about looking after Jane and making sure that he saw sense.
“Jane. How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Oh, pretty.”
“What are?” Lisbon said, the concern laced in her voice. Briefly, she looked at her own hand, wondering what the hell he was referring to.
“The fireflies.”
“It’s the middle of the day; there are no fireflies.”
“Are they string lights then?”
“There aren’t any string lights either,” she insisted and helped him sit back in the car. “I think you should go to the ER. Van Pelt?”
“Yes, boss?”
She handed Van Pelt the key to the CBI-issue vehicle quickly. “I want you to take him to hospital and make sure that he actually sees somebody.”
“Yes, boss.”
It was a relief when she watched Jane and Van Pelt disappear off into the distance. Usually, Jane caused a fuss about being sent to see a medic and he had been surprisingly agreeable this time around. Briefly, she surmised that it was because the soccer ball had either been significantly larger than the baseball that had hit him previously, or that it had actually succeeded in knocking some sense into him. Still, she rounded on the boy who, despite being a good seven or so inches taller than her, cowered under her glare.
“We were just playing soccer out in the yard and-”
“Are you Henry Cousins?”
“Yes,” he answered dubiously. “Why?”
“Teresa Lisbon, CBI. I need to talk to you and Georgia O’Hanlon about Amie Stevens.”
“Oh,” he answered, sounding small. “Oh. Yeah.”
The look on his face suggested that he had expected her to come knocking sooner or later. Silently, he beckoned her towards the O’Hanlon residence, where Georgia was leaning up against the door, wondering what had distracted her boyfriend for so long. The frown on the girl’s face deepened when she recognized Lisbon.
“Babe, this is Teresa-”
“I know who she is.”
“Can I have a few words with you about Amie Stevens?” Lisbon asked politely, though she was already irritated by Georgia’s obvious resentment.
“Didn’t that red-haired chick ask everything you needed yesterday? When you were busy harassing my father?”
“Obviously not,” she answered dryly.
With a shrug, Georgia let Lisbon inside and led her through to the lounge. There, she and Henry answered all of her questions as swiftly as possible before making it clear that Lisbon was no longer welcome. When she left, Lisbon frowned. She could have done with more information from the pair about their relationship and how Amie had slotted into it. She suspected that Henry had been fonder of Amie than he let on, but wouldn’t tell her any more because of Georgia’s presence. In a way, it was a shame Jane wasn’t around. He always managed to coerce information out of young adults so easily. She, however, found it rather like trying to drain blood from a stone.
When Cho picked her up, she asked him to drop her off at home. While the rest of the team were busy working the case, she had spent longer than she had anticipated with the O’Hanlon girl and her boyfriend. She was already running late when it came to greeting Annabeth and she knew that her niece would be growing impatient. In reality, she knew that she probably should have cancelled this impromptu visit, but at the same time, she felt compelled to do it. Seeing Tommy so recently meant that she did feel like she should at least try and make more time for her family. Besides, all Jane’s chatter about Christmas cheer made her realize that, despite the friction, she did need to see them at this time of year. It was the right thing to do, after all.
Of course, the last person she expected to greet her at home, along with Annabeth, was Jane. He was meant to be in hospital, being checked up for head injuries, after all.
Then again, being Jane, of course he wouldn’t follow instructions. Sometimes, she wondered how she still managed to slip up around him. She always assumed that she’d known him for long enough not to fall for his silly mind games by now.
“Teaching my niece how to pick locks now? Classy,” Lisbon remarked when Jane sprung up.
“Aunt Reese!” Annabeth said, almost squeaking as she did so. She hadn’t expected Lisbon home quite so soon.
“It’s not how it looks,” Jane protested.
“Oh really? You were both crouched over it, with a bent paperclip in hand,” she answered back, smiling a little. “I’d say it looks exactly like that.”
“Well, okay, you’re right, but in my defense,” he started and took a couple of steps towards her. “It isn’t breaking and entering. I had your key.”
“And where did you get that, I wonder?”
“From your pocket?”
Automatically, she felt in her pocket for her personal keys, knowing full well Van Pelt had the one for the van. Lisbon rolled her eyes when she realized Jane was telling the truth and she snatched them back. Opening the door, she beckoned in both Annabeth and Jane. She wasn’t angry, not really. This was the kind of parlor tricks she had expected of him. What she hadn’t expected was that Jane would see her niece before she had a chance to today. Automatically, she headed towards the kitchen and dragged out three mugs. Coffee for herself and Annabeth, tea for Jane. There was no point in even asking. She knew exactly what they’d want.
“So, this is where you’ve been this afternoon?”
Jane shrugged. “I figured you’d be too distracted to meet Annie.”
“I could have done with you, you know.”
“Meh, you had it under control.”
Lisbon raised a suspicious eyebrow and Jane ignored it. Instead, he handed her the milk and sugar, ready to make up the coffees.
“Or were you just avoiding being taken to the ER?” Lisbon asked him critically. “Because really…”
“What happened?” Annabeth piped up, excited at the concept of action. “Were guns-”
“No,” Lisbon said, cutting her off. “He got hit round the head with a soccer ball.”
Annabeth let out an undignified snort and leaned up against the counter. Lisbon watched as her niece’s eyes danced with mirth at the concept of somebody as cool as Jane doing something as idiotic as that. Then again, Annabeth barely knew Jane and didn’t realize just the amount of mayhem he generally caused around the workplace.
“I have an aversion to sports,” Jane remarked, causing Annabeth to laugh some more.
“Oh,” she eventually said, when she’d calmed down. “How come you-”
“Annie…”
“Fine, I only wanted to help,” Annabeth said, sounding dejected. “Can I borrow your laptop?”
“Go ahead.”
“Thanks.”
Quickly, she swiped her coffee and disappeared off into the lounge, leaving Jane and Lisbon alone. As he sipped at his tea, Lisbon eyed him warily. When he didn’t grimace in disgust, she was almost proud. Jane was so fussy about his tea, that it was almost a miracle whenever somebody managed to prepare it just right for him. But still, his approval of her tea-making skills was neither here nor there. What was a concern was whether or not he was okay.
“I’m fine, Lisbon. There’s no need to look so nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” she said, quickly denying it.
“Oh sure you’re not. Which is why you look like you’re convinced I’m going to faint at any given moment.”
“You received another serious head injury under my care.”
“The doctors said I’m fine.”
“Really? So if I call them…”
“You can ask Van Pelt, if you really don’t believe me.”
Lisbon sighed and placed her coffee down. Suddenly she wasn’t in the mood.
“Why are you here?”
“I told you, to see Annie. I knew it’d be a while before you could leave the O’Hanlon’s.”
“Thanks. I guess.”
He smiled as he finished his tea, albeit rather more quickly than he apparently would have liked. Lisbon continued to watch him nervously; though he insisted he’d received the all-clear and that he hadn’t had any funny turns lately, she still couldn’t be entirely sure. Besides, the brain was a strange organ. You could never be one hundred percent sure when it came to head injuries. What if the problems simply hadn’t manifested themselves yet?
“I’d better be off, thanks for the tea,” he said politely. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No you won’t” she started, as he disappeared through the door. “I have the day… off.”
TBC…
To Part Seven