A/N: Woot! My first Mentalist fic! This was written for the Secret Santa exchange over on Jello-Forever—a present for gracevanpelt. I hope you like it! (Hope the Teflon part makes sense and isn't too cheesy.) Thanks bunches to Tromana for being my wonderful beta!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own The Mentalist. Or the adorable Simon Baker. Still waiting for that life-size cardboard cutout….:D

Teresa Lisbon never judged the beginning of the Christmas season by conventional methods. It was never the Black Friday sales or the seemingly never-ending lineup of Christmas songs that seemed to start playing whenever the weather started to turn cooler that alerted her to the fact that it was supposedly the "most wonderful time" of the year. No, her team's silly traditions were what marked the beginning of the season for her. Year after year, Cho would replace his usual mystery with a well-worn copy of Dickens' A Christmas Carol (Jane had wryly commented last year that it was because Cho had such a stoic, harsh demeanor that even Scrooge would envy it) and Rigsby would begin working out even harder to make up for the fifteen pounds he'd inevitably gain during the winter festivities. Van Pelt's arrival on the team two years ago had made Rigsby work out much harder; whether it was because of the scrumptious goodies that the redhead brought or something else, Lisbon had not quite figured out yet. And of course Jane could be found scampering about with something silly and a devilish grin on his face; this year's trick seemed to be mistletoe, with which he was always cleverly trying to catch Rigsby and Van Pelt.

Van Pelt's arrival had also started a new tradition for the team: a substantial Christmas dinner with everyone in attendance. Van Pelt had said that since her new team felt like "family", she wanted them to celebrate the holidays together too. No one had minded; Lisbon actually felt that it was a good idea. Strengthening team morale, and all that; not to mention the hysterics certainly to come when Jane arrived. Armed with Christmas bows of all sizes, he had been trying to attach one to a dozing Minelli's head during last year's dinner.

This year, however, proved to be bittersweet. Minelli was leaving, but had been invited, of course; but Bosco's murder had placed a dampened spirit on the team, although Lisbon tried very hard not to show how much the loss of her old friend had affected her. She had always regarded him as an older brother, thankful to him for showing her the ropes and for treating her with respect when she'd been a rookie cop. Lisbon had kindly invited Bosco's widow and children to the holiday gathering, but wasn't much surprised when Mandy had quietly turned down the offer. At least then she wouldn't fall prey to one of Jane's inevitable faux pas.

Lisbon had thought as much while preparing the Christmas ham. She was getting ready to place it in the Teflon pan and stick it in the oven when Jane, drinking peppermint tea, had accosted her. "Jane!" she'd exclaimed after almost dropping the meat. Jane, of course, was amused by Lisbon's clumsiness and her ensuing blush when he helped her place the offending piece of pork back in the pan. "You know what, Jane?" Lisbon mused, trying to turn his focus away from what had just happened. He didn't answer, just raised his eyebrows. She went on: "You're a lot like this Teflon pan."

"How? We're both useful?" asked a grinning Jane. Really, his smile was too much, almost conceited.

"No. You're both slippery and nothing seems to stick to either of you."

"Really? Pray tell me how, Lisbon. I'm all ears."

"All show and ego is more like it," Lisbon grumbled.

"What's that?" Jane queried. Lisbon could just see that irritating grin plastered on his face.

"Well, you have an irritating tendency to be able to slither out of any situation, especially when some foolish person tries to place responsibility on you. Or how about when you've completely abandoned all sense of protocol and done something brazen, perilously close to a crime? Like that prison incident! I tell you, Jane, sometimes I think I should have let Bosco place you in maximum security."

Jane didn't seem to be chastened one bit, to Lisbon's obvious annoyance. Actually, he seemed to be delighted with her picture of him. It didn't help matters that he was standing a little too close for comfort. Trying to ignore his irritatingly intoxicating smile, she pressed on.

"And to make matters worse, nothing ever seems to stick to you! Especially when I specifically tell you not to do something. You nod and smile or whatever, then once I've got my back turned, you scamper off to commit whatever small crime I forbade you to do! Do we just need to brand you with my instructions? Would that keep them from going in one ear and out the other?"

"You can brand me anytime, with whatever you like," he said suggestively. She almost suspected him to wiggle his eyebrows, but then the double entendre caught up with her and she blushed, strawberry red.

That amused him even more. He smiled at the petite woman, who, if not for her discomposure due to his words, would be charging at him, a miniature bull with piercing green eyes. But for now, her face reminded him of something else.

"You know, Lisbon, you make a very convincing strawberry. Which reminds me…" he trailed off while rummaging in his pocket. A surprised Lisbon watched as he pulled out a clear plastic tub filled with strawberries. He made a great show of presenting the fruit. His showmanship streak was obviously still active.

"Strawberries, Jane?" a bemused Lisbon asked. "This is Christmas. Why strawberries?"

"Oh, come on, woman," growled Jane, obviously tired of all the question attacks by Lisbon. "Don't be a Grinch. Strawberries are festive. They're red and green. See? They go right with the décor." He pointed to the ripe, plump, red fruit and the velvety fringe of green leaves at the top. "Plus," he added, "They're much more edible than mistletoe, and twice as satisfying." He popped the strawberry in his mouth and exaggerated his delight.

"You're impossible, Jane," Lisbon commented, amused but trying to hide it. Of course, the perceptive man picked up on the smile that threatened to light up her face.

"Would you say I was impossible if I said I had chocolate for dipping?"

Of course, the man always had to hit her on her weak spot. She sighed, defeated for now. Somehow, Cho's annual gift of a box of chocolates didn't seem quite so tempting at the moment. At least not when her incorrigible, childlike, irresponsible, highly amusing, usually thoughtful (when it counted)…colleague? Friend?...was holding a gallon tub of melted chocolate before her, his face lit with a million-watt smile.

But she seriously debated changing her mind when the said impish Patrick Jane placed a strawberry decadently dipped in creamy milk chocolate in her rounded mouth.

"JANE!"

Later that evening, after all the food had been eaten (courtesy of Rigsby, who had devoured a plate of Van Pelt's reindeer cookies on top of everything else), small gifts had been exchanged. Lisbon had threatened to throw Jane in the oven and roast him for the next day's supper—he'd make an excellent roast beast—after she'd opened a Spice Girls Greatest Hits CD. The dishes were done, thanks to Cho—who was amusingly topped by reindeer antlers, courtesy of Jane—the tired but happy team began leaving.

Jane was, of course, the last out. He complimented her on her cooking and on how comfy her couch was for taking a semi-snooze, but then his face grew serious as he slowly closed the gap between them. He fumbled in his pocket once more and drew out a stray strawberry, pinched the green fronds at the top, and held it over his and Lisbon's heads. Lisbon didn't have much time to react or even to process his movements before he leaned in and placed a small kiss on her cheek, right next to her mouth.

"Merry Christmas, Teresa."

I hope you enjoyed this! Please review—I'd really love to know what you all think about my first Mentalist fic! Merry Christmas!

Frogster