Mistletoe and Red Wine (2/8)
Just a quick note to so that from now onwards, I will be posting a lot due to the Holiday Fics challenge starting and The Mentalist Big Bang posting. On some days especially, I will be posting a lot. I apologise in advance for flist clogging. Now, onto the fic...
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
It didn't take long for O'Hanlon to supply Lisbon with the details she needed to get out of that mall. Quite frankly she was relieved. There were only so many Christmas carols and songs you could hear before the supposed season of goodwill without being driven slowly, but surely insane. If she heard Jingle Bells one more time within the next twenty-four hours, she knew she couldn't be held accountable for her own actions. If it was two weeks into December, then she would have found the situation more tolerable, but it wasn't.
"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…"
"Jane!"
"What?"
"Don't you even think about it," she growled back at him.
"Think about what?"
"Singing that damn song."
"What, Jingle Bells?" he asked, with mock-innocence.
"Yes!"
"But it's stuck in my head!" he answered back, as if it were some kind of justification.
"Something else will be stuck in it too, if you're not careful," she threatened, though they both knew she didn't really mean it.
"I think someone needs a coffee."
"Oh really?"
"Yes, really," he answered back. "We can't have you taking this back to the Stevens family home. They'll be getting enough bad news as it is."
"Fine," she acquiesced, less reluctantly than she would care to admit to. "But only if you're paying."
She allowed Jane to take her by the arm and drag her to the nearest Starbucks. Cho and Rigsby had already disappeared towards security, to have a look at the videotapes of the incident. Lisbon quietly hoped that the pair of them wouldn't notice herself and Jane taking a break when she had instructed them to work quickly and efficiently. After all, it did appear to be horrendously hypocritical. It didn't make good business practice either; she couldn't have one rule for herself, as the boss, and another for her subordinates. So, her team had made it clear repeatedly that they were pleased to have her back, but that didn't mean she had the right to abuse her authority either.
Still, she refused to relax until they were safely ensconced around a table at the back of the café. Jane knew that she wanted to get on with work in reality, but he was also more than aware of the fact she did need to calm down. That was why he had persuaded her to take five minutes for herself and she had given up so easily. It just made sense. Sometimes, she did push herself harder than she needed to and forgot about her own welfare, but that wasn't entirely her fault. Lisbon was desperately trying to impress the new management, show Wainwright that she didn't need his expertise. She had been in the business for far longer than he had and therefore, she was somewhat skeptical about anything he had to say. However, she also knew it wasn't just Wainwright keeping his beady eyes on her, but the rest of the management too. She was never meant to return to her position in the CBI after Timothy Carter had been gunned down by Jane. She had always meant to be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb. The one who had to give up everything just to make it appear that there had been some repercussions. Instead, she was stuck with the lingering resentments and the heavy skepticism about whether or not she was actually capable of doing her job effectively.
Jane was quick to bring her back her coffee - black, with one sugar. Just how she usually took it in the morning. Then again, she knew that she shouldn't expect anything less; Jane's attention to detail was second to none. It was also something she found herself resentful about on occasion. Yes, hers had improved, but that didn't mean she couldn't wish she was better. After all, it was a matter of principle. She hated the fact that time and time again he showed her up. They had closed cases before he arrived and when he eventually left, they would continue to do so after. Or, at least, she hoped that was the case. Briefly, she glanced in Jane's mug and as she expected, it was some weird tea blend. He never drank coffee; in fact it was probably impossible to even encourage him to try it.
"Ah, lovely," he remarked with a smile. "Shame they don't do a Christmas tea blend, don't you think?"
"Would there be a demand?" she asked dubiously.
"Well I just suggested it, so I'd say yes."
"Yeah, but you probably drink twice the amount of tea that everyone else in Sacramento does put together."
"I sincerely doubt that."
"I don't."
She sipped quickly at her coffee, glad to finally have some caffeine entering into her system. Sometimes, she did wonder if she had a bit of a caffeine problem, it was a drug, after all. However, as far as she was concerned, it was essentially harmless and it did mean she could do her job better. Besides, she was already beginning to feel a little calmer and more awake, despite still being able to hear the Christmas songs in the distance. Still, they couldn't stay in place for long. Relaxing like this wouldn't solve the case and it wouldn't bring about justice for poor Amie Stevens' family. They sat in a companionable silence, doing little more than drinking. Lisbon was somewhat surprised that Jane hadn't chosen to grill her about her supposed dislike for the holiday season and she was glad of it. Really, he should have known by now that it was something she didn't mind in small - very small - doses.
"I'm just getting a cookie to go. Do you want one?"
Automatically, she opened her mouth to retort, but instead closed it just as quickly and shook her head. There was no point in trying to argue with Jane about getting a move on. Instead, he would probably have suggested that she needed to eat in order to keep up her energy levels. That if she didn't, she'd be more likely to collapse and therefore, of no use to anybody. Still, she had to be a little concerned about Jane, or at least, more so than usual. It seemed like he couldn't settle for some reason, that he always had to be on the move. Then again, it wasn't an entirely unusual state for him to be in, but at the same time, it didn't happen all that often either. As he handed his money over to the cashier, she downed the rest of her drink.
"Someone seems a little over stimulated," Lisbon said lightly when he returned, "you didn't eat all your Halloween candy in one go this morning, did you?"
"Eh, Halloween was ages ago; why would you think a thing like that?"
"Knowing you, you were probably saving it for a rainy day."
"An interesting theory, but I can see at least one problem with that."
"What?"
"It isn't raining," Jane answered, stating the obvious.
"I meant it figuratively."
"I know."
She rolled her eyes as she climbed into the driver's seat. This was always the part of the job Lisbon hated the most, telling the family. Until that fateful knock on the door, everything was fine for them, a normal day. And then, they are morally obliged to barge in and shatter their world into pieces. It's a feeling she understood all too well. She can remember, clear as day, the moment when two police officers turned up on the doorstep with somber expressions to say her mother had died in a fatal collision. She also appreciated the idea of knowing that the case was in good hands, that something was being done about it, and could only hope that the victims could see things in the same way.
Then again, this morning had been a wake up call. She'd become complacent about the general public's acceptance of the CBI of late. Ever since her recovery and her and Jane's reinstatement with the Serious Crimes Unit, things had been going surprisingly well. They hadn't come across anybody like O'Hanlon before. The Red John case had been highly televised, naturally, and it was still on everybody's lips. Lisbon knew that she should have expected that sooner or later, they would come across someone who would disagree with the jury's decision on that fateful day. In a way, she almost considered it a shame that it hadn't happened sooner, then she wouldn't have been quite so oblivious, heading into the mall.
"Why does gingerbread always taste so much nicer at this time of year?"
"I don't know, Jane," she answered, in a somewhat insufferable tone. "Why do you think that is?"
"Maybe it has something to do with Santa and his elves?"
"I seriously doubt that."
"Oh please, you have to believe there's some magic in the world."
"I do," she retorted, not bothering to look at him as she drove sedately. "I just don't believe it can be found in mass-marketing and commercialism."
"That makes you sound obscenely boring and cynical."
"What's new there then?" she quipped.
"Touché," Jane admitted and took another bite. "Except, my dear, you're not as boring as you think you are. You just need to lighten up a little."
"Oh really?"
"Yes. And I'm sure Annie would appreciate it more."
Lisbon balked slightly at the mention of her niece. She hadn't told Jane that she had an impending visit from Tommy's daughter. Then again, she herself hadn't known about it until three am this morning, so she'd barely had time to tell anybody else, never mind Jane. Then again, he spent so much time reading and psychoanalyzing people, even those he'd known for years, that it didn't come as much of a surprise. He must have noticed her heightened lack of sleep or her mentally planning which shops to take Annie to on Saturday. Or something like that, anyway.
"What time does she arrive?"
"Not til tomorrow night."
"Ah," he answered, with a satisfied smile. "Looking forward to seeing her again?"
With a noncommittal shrug, Lisbon parked up outside the Stevens residence. It hadn't taken them long at all to get there; a mere ten minutes or so. Mentally, she made a note of that. It suggested that Amie generally walked to work; there was no point in using public transport or a car. There could be something in that; maybe her killer had targeted her on the way to or from work? After all, a young woman, walking around in that kind of an outfit was always going to draw unwanted attention.
"It'll be fine," Jane said, touching her lightly on the arm. "Really."
"But what a time of year to lose a daughter," she whispered.
"Your mom died around this time of year didn't she?"
"Kid slipped on a patch of ice, couldn't regain control of the car," she muttered quietly, surprising herself as she did so. "It couldn't be helped."
"Yes, it could. He could have avoided alcohol before driving in dangerous conditions."
She didn't answer him and instead, knocked on the door. Her mom's death was ancient history and Lisbon wished that Jane hadn't made that connection. Though they had briefly touched upon her family history previously, she had never gone into such depths with Jane before. And yet, this time around, it felt right to do so. They had been through so much together of late, that there was no point in her even attempting to hide secrets from him now. Jane would just find out about them sooner or later.
It wasn't long until a petite woman with a short, blonde bob answered the door. In her arms was a small, squirming baby boy, dressed in a blue romper suit. The woman looked at them searchingly, trying to figure out who they were. Lisbon let out a quiet sigh; this was it. This was the moment when another family's hopes and dreams were going to be destroyed.
"Can I help you?"
"Agent Teresa Lisbon and this is Patrick Jane," Lisbon said and flashed her badge as she did so. "Can we come in for a word?"
"What's he done?"
"I'd prefer to speak in private, if that's-"
"If that brat has done something wrong, I'd prefer it if you told me right here and now."
"Your daughter has been found murdered," Jane said, noticing the look in Mrs. Stevens' eyes. "Can we come in now?"
TBC…
To Part Three
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
It didn't take long for O'Hanlon to supply Lisbon with the details she needed to get out of that mall. Quite frankly she was relieved. There were only so many Christmas carols and songs you could hear before the supposed season of goodwill without being driven slowly, but surely insane. If she heard Jingle Bells one more time within the next twenty-four hours, she knew she couldn't be held accountable for her own actions. If it was two weeks into December, then she would have found the situation more tolerable, but it wasn't.
"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…"
"Jane!"
"What?"
"Don't you even think about it," she growled back at him.
"Think about what?"
"Singing that damn song."
"What, Jingle Bells?" he asked, with mock-innocence.
"Yes!"
"But it's stuck in my head!" he answered back, as if it were some kind of justification.
"Something else will be stuck in it too, if you're not careful," she threatened, though they both knew she didn't really mean it.
"I think someone needs a coffee."
"Oh really?"
"Yes, really," he answered back. "We can't have you taking this back to the Stevens family home. They'll be getting enough bad news as it is."
"Fine," she acquiesced, less reluctantly than she would care to admit to. "But only if you're paying."
She allowed Jane to take her by the arm and drag her to the nearest Starbucks. Cho and Rigsby had already disappeared towards security, to have a look at the videotapes of the incident. Lisbon quietly hoped that the pair of them wouldn't notice herself and Jane taking a break when she had instructed them to work quickly and efficiently. After all, it did appear to be horrendously hypocritical. It didn't make good business practice either; she couldn't have one rule for herself, as the boss, and another for her subordinates. So, her team had made it clear repeatedly that they were pleased to have her back, but that didn't mean she had the right to abuse her authority either.
Still, she refused to relax until they were safely ensconced around a table at the back of the café. Jane knew that she wanted to get on with work in reality, but he was also more than aware of the fact she did need to calm down. That was why he had persuaded her to take five minutes for herself and she had given up so easily. It just made sense. Sometimes, she did push herself harder than she needed to and forgot about her own welfare, but that wasn't entirely her fault. Lisbon was desperately trying to impress the new management, show Wainwright that she didn't need his expertise. She had been in the business for far longer than he had and therefore, she was somewhat skeptical about anything he had to say. However, she also knew it wasn't just Wainwright keeping his beady eyes on her, but the rest of the management too. She was never meant to return to her position in the CBI after Timothy Carter had been gunned down by Jane. She had always meant to be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb. The one who had to give up everything just to make it appear that there had been some repercussions. Instead, she was stuck with the lingering resentments and the heavy skepticism about whether or not she was actually capable of doing her job effectively.
Jane was quick to bring her back her coffee - black, with one sugar. Just how she usually took it in the morning. Then again, she knew that she shouldn't expect anything less; Jane's attention to detail was second to none. It was also something she found herself resentful about on occasion. Yes, hers had improved, but that didn't mean she couldn't wish she was better. After all, it was a matter of principle. She hated the fact that time and time again he showed her up. They had closed cases before he arrived and when he eventually left, they would continue to do so after. Or, at least, she hoped that was the case. Briefly, she glanced in Jane's mug and as she expected, it was some weird tea blend. He never drank coffee; in fact it was probably impossible to even encourage him to try it.
"Ah, lovely," he remarked with a smile. "Shame they don't do a Christmas tea blend, don't you think?"
"Would there be a demand?" she asked dubiously.
"Well I just suggested it, so I'd say yes."
"Yeah, but you probably drink twice the amount of tea that everyone else in Sacramento does put together."
"I sincerely doubt that."
"I don't."
She sipped quickly at her coffee, glad to finally have some caffeine entering into her system. Sometimes, she did wonder if she had a bit of a caffeine problem, it was a drug, after all. However, as far as she was concerned, it was essentially harmless and it did mean she could do her job better. Besides, she was already beginning to feel a little calmer and more awake, despite still being able to hear the Christmas songs in the distance. Still, they couldn't stay in place for long. Relaxing like this wouldn't solve the case and it wouldn't bring about justice for poor Amie Stevens' family. They sat in a companionable silence, doing little more than drinking. Lisbon was somewhat surprised that Jane hadn't chosen to grill her about her supposed dislike for the holiday season and she was glad of it. Really, he should have known by now that it was something she didn't mind in small - very small - doses.
"I'm just getting a cookie to go. Do you want one?"
Automatically, she opened her mouth to retort, but instead closed it just as quickly and shook her head. There was no point in trying to argue with Jane about getting a move on. Instead, he would probably have suggested that she needed to eat in order to keep up her energy levels. That if she didn't, she'd be more likely to collapse and therefore, of no use to anybody. Still, she had to be a little concerned about Jane, or at least, more so than usual. It seemed like he couldn't settle for some reason, that he always had to be on the move. Then again, it wasn't an entirely unusual state for him to be in, but at the same time, it didn't happen all that often either. As he handed his money over to the cashier, she downed the rest of her drink.
"Someone seems a little over stimulated," Lisbon said lightly when he returned, "you didn't eat all your Halloween candy in one go this morning, did you?"
"Eh, Halloween was ages ago; why would you think a thing like that?"
"Knowing you, you were probably saving it for a rainy day."
"An interesting theory, but I can see at least one problem with that."
"What?"
"It isn't raining," Jane answered, stating the obvious.
"I meant it figuratively."
"I know."
She rolled her eyes as she climbed into the driver's seat. This was always the part of the job Lisbon hated the most, telling the family. Until that fateful knock on the door, everything was fine for them, a normal day. And then, they are morally obliged to barge in and shatter their world into pieces. It's a feeling she understood all too well. She can remember, clear as day, the moment when two police officers turned up on the doorstep with somber expressions to say her mother had died in a fatal collision. She also appreciated the idea of knowing that the case was in good hands, that something was being done about it, and could only hope that the victims could see things in the same way.
Then again, this morning had been a wake up call. She'd become complacent about the general public's acceptance of the CBI of late. Ever since her recovery and her and Jane's reinstatement with the Serious Crimes Unit, things had been going surprisingly well. They hadn't come across anybody like O'Hanlon before. The Red John case had been highly televised, naturally, and it was still on everybody's lips. Lisbon knew that she should have expected that sooner or later, they would come across someone who would disagree with the jury's decision on that fateful day. In a way, she almost considered it a shame that it hadn't happened sooner, then she wouldn't have been quite so oblivious, heading into the mall.
"Why does gingerbread always taste so much nicer at this time of year?"
"I don't know, Jane," she answered, in a somewhat insufferable tone. "Why do you think that is?"
"Maybe it has something to do with Santa and his elves?"
"I seriously doubt that."
"Oh please, you have to believe there's some magic in the world."
"I do," she retorted, not bothering to look at him as she drove sedately. "I just don't believe it can be found in mass-marketing and commercialism."
"That makes you sound obscenely boring and cynical."
"What's new there then?" she quipped.
"Touché," Jane admitted and took another bite. "Except, my dear, you're not as boring as you think you are. You just need to lighten up a little."
"Oh really?"
"Yes. And I'm sure Annie would appreciate it more."
Lisbon balked slightly at the mention of her niece. She hadn't told Jane that she had an impending visit from Tommy's daughter. Then again, she herself hadn't known about it until three am this morning, so she'd barely had time to tell anybody else, never mind Jane. Then again, he spent so much time reading and psychoanalyzing people, even those he'd known for years, that it didn't come as much of a surprise. He must have noticed her heightened lack of sleep or her mentally planning which shops to take Annie to on Saturday. Or something like that, anyway.
"What time does she arrive?"
"Not til tomorrow night."
"Ah," he answered, with a satisfied smile. "Looking forward to seeing her again?"
With a noncommittal shrug, Lisbon parked up outside the Stevens residence. It hadn't taken them long at all to get there; a mere ten minutes or so. Mentally, she made a note of that. It suggested that Amie generally walked to work; there was no point in using public transport or a car. There could be something in that; maybe her killer had targeted her on the way to or from work? After all, a young woman, walking around in that kind of an outfit was always going to draw unwanted attention.
"It'll be fine," Jane said, touching her lightly on the arm. "Really."
"But what a time of year to lose a daughter," she whispered.
"Your mom died around this time of year didn't she?"
"Kid slipped on a patch of ice, couldn't regain control of the car," she muttered quietly, surprising herself as she did so. "It couldn't be helped."
"Yes, it could. He could have avoided alcohol before driving in dangerous conditions."
She didn't answer him and instead, knocked on the door. Her mom's death was ancient history and Lisbon wished that Jane hadn't made that connection. Though they had briefly touched upon her family history previously, she had never gone into such depths with Jane before. And yet, this time around, it felt right to do so. They had been through so much together of late, that there was no point in her even attempting to hide secrets from him now. Jane would just find out about them sooner or later.
It wasn't long until a petite woman with a short, blonde bob answered the door. In her arms was a small, squirming baby boy, dressed in a blue romper suit. The woman looked at them searchingly, trying to figure out who they were. Lisbon let out a quiet sigh; this was it. This was the moment when another family's hopes and dreams were going to be destroyed.
"Can I help you?"
"Agent Teresa Lisbon and this is Patrick Jane," Lisbon said and flashed her badge as she did so. "Can we come in for a word?"
"What's he done?"
"I'd prefer to speak in private, if that's-"
"If that brat has done something wrong, I'd prefer it if you told me right here and now."
"Your daughter has been found murdered," Jane said, noticing the look in Mrs. Stevens' eyes. "Can we come in now?"
TBC…
To Part Three