A/N: So, here it is, the last chapter. Most of you know I'm not one for long, drawn-out things. This final chapter has some fluffy elements, but also some serious ones. It doesn't resolve all the problems their new relationship must endure, but I hope you are satisfied with this ending nonetheless.

Chapter 8: Geneva Conventions

As Jane walked Lisbon to her car, he was surprised at how awkward it was not. As a matter of fact, he felt just as relaxed in her presence as he had for years, and he knew it was more a testament to their easy friendship than to the magnificent sex they'd just had. Well, maybe that was part of it, he mused. He stood before her near her SUV, and both of them remembered a similar scene in a different parking lot just a few days before. He would have kissed her now, but he wasn't sure if Lisbon was ready to go public yet, and he figured Charlie had had enough excitement for one evening. He settled on an invitation instead.

"So…as magical as Mrs. Corman's fudge is, our recent…exertions have left me rather famished. Would you like to go grab a bite somewhere?"

It was too dim to see if she was blushing, but he knew she likely was. "Are you asking me out on a date?" she teased. "Because I think we've established that you really don't have to go to all that trouble now."

He grinned. "I told you once I wouldn't try to seduce you over a meal; I never said anything about the floor of an elevator. You know I never do things the conventional way, Lisbon. So…what say you?"

He had a moment of panic when he thought she would refuse him, as she stood there in the cool evening, contemplating his question. "I am hungry, but I also feel a little dirty from rolling around on the floor." His grin widened at the shared memory, as well as at her unintentional innuendo. She ignored his reaction. "How about just picking up some takeout and eating it at my place? That's about all that's gonna be open on Christmas Eve anyway."

"Something quick and cheap, eh?"

"Yes," she said, then her eyes grew mischievous. "Like my men."

He let out a surprised laugh. "Hey," he protested. "I'm not cheap."

She smiled but made no comment on that score. "Let me get a head start and I'll meet you at my place. You bring the burgers."

"Yes, Boss." He gave her a mock salute, and his teeth flashed in the darkness. He'd show her who really was boss a little later. "I'll see you in a bit," he told her, infusing as much sensual promise in those six little words as he could. He was rewarded with two swift blinks.

He felt her eyes on him as he walked away to his own car, and then she pulled out of her space and breezed past him on her way home. He waved her off, his heart squeezing to almost painful levels as he watched her leave, missing her terribly already. He shook his head at life's capriciousness.

Jane stopped short as he noticed something unusual about his car. For one thing, the driver's side window was encircled with familiar red garland, a garish attempt to decorate the little Citroen for the holiday. He knew at once the only person who could possibly think of such a thing, and his prediction was confirmed when he saw a red envelope held down by a windshield wiper. He retrieved his mail and got into his car, opening it in the glow of his ceiling light. The jolly red elf himself greeted him on the cover of the Christmas card, and he didn't notice, as the sender had, the resemblance of Santa's sparkling blue eyes to those of a certain CBI consultant. He opened the card, and beneath the traditional holiday wishes was a message written in Van Pelt's flowery hand:

Merry Christmas, Jane!

(You can thank me later.)

Love,

Grace

Jane instantly realized what had happened. He and Lisbon had been set up. It was one of the oldest tricks in the Book of Matchmaking—get the couple trapped alone together. He chuckled, having forgotten what it felt like to be duped by a master. He wondered if she'd had help in her little experiment, and came to the likely conclusion that at the very least, Rigsby had been in on it, if not Cho as well, through some major arm-twisting. Jane wasn't surprised they'd sensed the sexual tension between him and Lisbon over the past few days; they were good detectives after all, and it probably didn't even take a good detective to know something was simmering with their boss and consultant. He was sure they'd felt that if Lisbon wasn't happy, no one would be happy. How well he knew that particular law of nature. He'd certainly be thanking Grace later for her efforts, as she'd predicted he would. Maybe he'd send her flowers.

He tossed the card in the glove compartment for safekeeping, then, as an afterthought, he got out of the car again and removed the garland so it wouldn't blow off on the drive. You never know when you might need a bit of red garland, he thought in amusement. Jane started the Citroen, then pulled out of the parking lot, waving to George in the guardhouse as he drove by. Before heading to Lisbon's favorite burger joint, he had one little stop to make.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon got out of the shower and stood before her open closet, anticipation running hot in her veins at the thought of Jane's impending arrival. Coupled with that, of course, was the excitement of reliving their intimate moments in the elevator. She shivered in remembered passion, along with some other emotion that she wasn't quite ready to name. It was enough for now that she was looking forward to seeing him again, touching him, kissing those sensual lips of his. So, what to wear? A sexy negligee (of which she had but one) black, silky and only worn once? Her usual round-the-house outfit of sleep pants and tanktop? Jeans and a t-shirt? She didn't think she was being too presumptuous when she assumed Jane would be sleeping (or not sleeping) in her bed that night, but she didn't want to appear desperate about it.

She compromised with jeans and a close-fitting black tank. She quickly blew out her hair, touched up her light make-up and reapplied a little perfume to her pulse points, thinking with a smile that her pulse was already getting quite a workout lately. She'd just finished up when the doorbell rang and she took a deep breath, peaking out the peephole at a smiling Patrick Jane. She opened the door with a flutter in the region of her heart, unfamiliar with finally acknowledging her long-held attraction to him. It would take some getting used to. But when that smile was directed at her, she thought that maybe it wouldn't be as difficult as she'd thought.

She noticed he must have quickly showered himself, for his hair was slightly damp, and his clothes were fresh and more casual than she was used to seeing on him. He looked sexy in a soft-looking blue cashmere sweater, a white t-shirt peeking beneath the v-neck, and khaki trousers. In one hand he held a white paper sack that smelled suspiciously of French fries, and in the other, a bright red gift bag. But she laughed aloud at the yard of red, shimmering garland wrapped rakishly about his neck like a scarf.

"Don't tell me you're going to start singing Christmas carols," she said in mock horror.

"Not even if you begged me," Jane said dryly. His blue eyes scanned her face and figure, a new appreciation glimmering there, unimpeded by the professional distance he'd maintained the past seven years. He felt lighter in heart than he had in a decade, and it had everything to do with the petite CBI agent who had been right under his nose all along. He'd been blinded by years of mourning and rage and desire for vengeance. Seeing her now, after having felt her warm, yielding body beneath his, suddenly crystallized his vision, and it was like he was seeing her for the first time. He felt the ever-present darkness of bitterness fading into the past, replaced by the bright glow of affection and tenderness.

Lisbon noticed a subtle change come over him, softening his features as he regarded her, still standing in her doorway. Her heart lurched and picked up speed, and so, to cover her onset of nerves, she stepped aside to allow him entry. Jane walked to her small kitchen, placing his packages on the table before turning back to Lisbon and pulling her purposefully into his arms. His mouth covered hers, and she tasted mint and the hot tang of passion. Her hands slid up his firm arms and up to his shoulders, the fabric of his sweater as soft as she imagined. Her fingers slipped into his damp curls, pulling him down to fasten her lips more tightly to his.

The sound of her growling stomach interrupted them. Lisbon flushed in embarrassment as Jane pulled away with a soft laugh. "Okay, I can take a hint." He gave her one last gentle kiss on the forehead.

She moved out of his arms and went to the cabinet for two plates, two glasses, and a couple of diet sodas from the refrigerator. They sat at the table and Jane pulled out two foil-wrapped burgers and a large bag of fries. He watched in pleasure as her eyes closed in delight as she took her first bite. He wondered why he'd never noticed before how much joy she took in eating—whenever she did eat.

"I had them hold the onions," he commented, waggling his eyebrows wickedly.

"You don't like onions anyway," she reminded him, after finishing chewing her first bite. "You left mine off for your own selfish reasons."

He shrugged and grinned. "Guilty as charged." Jane took his own first bite, and they looked at each other around their cheeseburgers, pausing to feed each other the occasional French fry. It was amazing how easy this was for both of them. Aside from feeding one another, it was very similar to countless other meals they'd shared together. The banter was witty and unforced, despite the recent strain on their friendship. Underlying all was a new awareness, a renewed appreciation for what they'd taken for granted in their years of simply working together.

Lisbon nodded toward the gift bag still on the table beside them. "What's that?" she asked, fishing.

"One should never ask such things at Christmastime, Lisbon."

She glowered at him. "I assume it must be something for me, otherwise, why would you have brought it to my apartment?"

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow," he maintained, chewing his last bite of burger.

"When I was a little girl, we'd get to open one present on Christmas Eve. I choose yours." She wiped her hands on her napkin and reached for the bag. He staid her hand, catching her off guard with his serious expression.

"Please keep in mind that I bought one of the gifts earlier today, before we…well, I'm hoping you'll fully appreciate my intention and not kick my ass."

She was now even more intrigued, and yet his warning made her look at the bag with much trepidation. "You sure you want to give it to me then?" she asked. He paused, obviously considering it.

"No," he said after a moment's hesitation. "I suppose I'll take my chances."

She reached into the bag and pulled out a book, frowning immediately at the cover. She looked up at him. "You're kidding me, right? Hypnotherapy for Dummies? Just when I think you've gotten on my last nerve—seriously, you deserve a good ass-kicking for this."

"Now wait, Lisbon. Let me explain."

"Oh, this ought to be good."

"No need for sarcasm. I told you there were good intentions behind it. I figured if you learned yourself to hypnotize others, or at least how it's done, you won't be as intimidated or angered by what I do anymore."

"I'm not intimidated by you in the least, Patrick Jane. I happen to think hypnosis without permission is unethical, and, at the very least, inadmissible in court. You already know how I feel about this."

"Would you at least look through it, maybe give it a chance? I'll help you master it. You could even practice on me."

Now that sounded interesting. "You mean, you'd let me make you quack like a duck or spontaneously sing Abba songs? Or, I know—I'd get you to obey my every command…"

He grinned. "Sure, but you know what they say about absolute power... I was thinking more along the lines of practical applications on the job."

"I think that last suggestion would be extremely practical." She sighed in defeat at his pleading eyes. "Okay, I'll think about it, but I still want your oath to never again hypnotize me without my consent, or as God is my witness-"

He raised his right hand. "I swear," he said solemnly.

"Okay, I'll read it. Just out of morbid curiosity, mind you."

He smiled. "Fair enough. There's something else in there. I bought it a couple weeks ago. I know you don't wear much jewelry, but I couldn't resist…"

She reached in and pulled out a small, red velvet box and opened the hinged lid. It was a charm bracelet, made of white gold, obviously very expensive. She removed it from its velvet nest and held it up, laughing at the whimsy of the four charms dangling from the loosely braided chain.

"Oh, my God! Where in the world did you find little handcuffs? Oh, and a Glock? Is that a badge? And a…a chocolate bar?" She laughed. "The detail is amazing. Jane. I'm very impressed." She blinked at him, her eyes sparkling with humorous gratitude, and he obliged by leaning over the table and kissing her waiting lips. He sat back in his chair and took her wrist, fastening the bracelet there and holding up her hand to see the full effect.

"Lovely. I found this quaint little shop on the coast. It was hard to narrow the charms down to four-they had so many to choose from-but I wanted to leave room to add more…on other special occasions." His words implied there would be more days like this, more opportunities for gifts given and received. Lisbon felt warm all over.

"Thank you. I love it. And the book was very thoughtful, I guess, although I still have mixed emotions about it."

"Completely understandable. But tell me, Lisbon. Do you forgive me, for hypnotizing you?"

"Yes," she said levelly. "But don't think that you can seduce me into overlooking all your antics, particularly when they involve me."

"I don't," he said sincerely. He was surprised to realize he meant it this time. "But can I at least try?" he asked, looking absurdly hopeful.

"I guess you could try." They both smiled softly at each other, Jane taking her braceleted hand in his.

"Oh, I have something for you," she exclaimed, rising to her feet. "I had planned on giving it to you earlier today, but I thought I shouldn't be rewarding your bad behavior."

His expression at that was rueful, but he knew she was right. Still, he was curious about what she'd gotten him. They usually gave presents to each other at Christmas, but they were mostly practical and impersonal things—gloves, stationary, challenging puzzles, best-selling mystery novels. Even though things had obviously changed between them, she'd been angry with him a good deal of the time lately, so he truly didn't expect to receive much more than a lump of coal from her this year. And so it was with complete surprise that he watched her re-emerge from her bedroom carrying a package almost as big as she was. He rose to help her, but she assured him it wasn't heavy, and she took the colorfully wrapped box and set it on the coffee table.

Jane joined her in the living room, his face taking on a childish excitement at his gift that was oddly touching to Lisbon. It was moments like these that she understood just how disconnected he must feel without a real family, especially around the holidays. She was happy to have put that glimmer back in his eyes, and she felt her own water a little at how touched he appeared.

"I was shopping for my nieces, and I saw this. It just screamed Jane."

"May I open it?" he asked, with barely restrained eagerness.

She laughed. "Of course. I hope you like it, that you don't think it's too…immature."

He raised an eyebrow at that, then tore into the package with gusto.

"Oh, Lisbon," he said in awe. "This is so…cool." He picked up the box and began looking at the pictures on the outside. It was a model of a carnival, complete with a Ferris wheel and other rides, tiny hot dog stands, ticket counters, and even a little fun house. Miniature people would populate the small world, along with the animals in a lifelike petting zoo, chief among these a familiar-looking elephant.

"You really like it? You'll put it together, paint it?"

He grinned. "Only if you'll help me."

"I thought it would give you something to do up in the attic besides brood." He set down his gift and took her into his arms.

"Somehow, I don't think I'll be brooding much anymore, not if you're up there with me, anyway."

"I want to be," she whispered, understanding the deeper meaning behind his words. "Ever since you kissed me last week in your apartment, I've found, much to my surprise"—here, her lips quirked with humor—" that I want to be with you. I know it's a risk. We're both a little messed up in our own ways, and I'm not sure if either of us is in a good place to start something right now. I know it might sound crazy, but I think this thing between us could work, if we don't try too hard to screw it up."

Jane smiled, his heart picking up speed at her simple honesty. "We could just be setting ourselves up for disaster," he warned, for once the cautious one. He directed them to the couch, knowing this conversation had turned decidedly away from a lighter vein. "And there's another matter, one that I should send you running in the other direction, Teresa." He held up his left hand, where his silver wedding band still rested where Angela had placed it twenty years before. "I think messed up is too polite a phrase to describe what I am, sweetheart. But there's no denying I want this—want you. I just wonder if by starting something with you I'm being too selfish. You deserve a man who can totally devote himself to your happiness. I don't know if I can ever be that man for you. As long as my family's murderer is out there, I'm going to be obsessive where Red John is concerned. I honestly don't see that changing. Tell me, Lisbon, can you really live with that?"

She already knew all of this about him. "I've been living with this from you for seven years, Jane. I know who you are, what drives you. And you seem to forget that it also drives me. I've been on this case almost as long as you have. He's responsible for killing someone I cared about too—it's personal for me, not just because of that, but because I know what he did to you—is constantly doing to you. I feel just as obsessive about getting the bastard—I just express it differently, feel the need to be the reasonable voice when he strikes and you start acting crazy."

He nodded in understanding of his own failings, but he was also seeing things from her perspective for a change. He was blinded and a little on the crazy side whenever Red John reared his bloody head, but while he was off recklessly tracking down dangerous leads, bugging CBI agents, or generally disregarding the law to feed his single-minded obsession, it occurred to him now that he felt he could do these things because he knew in the back of his mind that Agent Lisbon and the rest of the team would always have his back. Oh, he might be a big talker, might say he didn't need them or that laws didn't matter, but she made him feel like he could do whatever he needed to do, no matter where the chips fell.

"You're right, Lisbon. And we might disagree about what to do with Red John when we find him, but I know you've always been there for me, supporting me even when I claimed I didn't want it. I'm grateful for that, more than you'll ever know." He leaned over and kissed her, thanking her in a way he'd never been able to before. It felt really good—too good, which was what had started this conversation in the first place. He sat back again, but kept the connection to her by holding her small, capable hand in his.

"But that doesn't answer my question, Teresa. Do we go on with this—this, whatever this is—and to hell with the fallout?"

She looked deeply into his eyes, knowing that she'd already made up her mind a week ago. His words had only made her more determined to try to make this work. They needed each other, both personally and professionally. He'd reassured her that it wouldn't ruin their friendship, and she truly wanted to believe that. It came down to whether these new feelings between them were worth pursuing. To her, the answer was simple.

"Yes. A relationship will take work, though, Jane. Work, honesty, forgiveness, understanding. I'm willing to try if you are."

"I can't promise I'm going to change completely," he said. "I'll do my best, but you know I'm going to screw up sometimes. No matter what, Lisbon, I don't want to lose you—that's what scares the hell out of me the most."

"You haven't lost me yet," she whispered, reaching up to smooth a lock of blonde hair back from his forehead. Her hand slid down to rest on his cheek, and the affection Jane saw in her eyes was almost his undoing. He was unused to feeling the touch of another, even one as casual as her almost motherly gesture. Then her unconscious blink warned him what was coming. Lisbon leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, the forehead, the sore nose (which made him grin), and finally, the lips. He welcomed her soft touch hungrily, deepening the kiss before either of them had the chance to think about it.

"Where's the damn bed," he murmured between warm, wet kisses, "and I better not have to take an elevator to get there."

He felt her smile against his mouth, then, taking his hand, she kissed him once more before leading him to her bedroom, which fortunately was on the ground floor.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I don't think I thanked you properly for your Christmas gift," Jane said, much later. They were curled together beneath Lisbon's practical cotton sheets, their third encounter of the evening having been, in Jane's not-so-humble opinion, the best yet. He had taken his time, his former skill in the bedroom seeming to all come back to him, and he felt the usual sense of pride he normally felt when he did something well. If Lisbon's cries of ecstasy were any indication, he'd done very well indeed. Like riding a bicycle, concurred the man and his expansive ego.

"Oh, I think I've been well and truly thanked," she said dryly. He kissed the sable head beneath his chin, then grinned as the red garland she now wore around her bare neck scratched against his naked chest.
"And you, my dear, are the most beautiful bit of holiday decorating I've ever done." At his words, she reached up to touch the gaudy tinsel, feeling herself flushing in response; it had been an interesting addition to their lovemaking.

"I never thought Christmas garland could be used as an instrument of sensual torture," she replied. "I should inform the UN or something, maybe see about modifying the Geneva Conventions."

He chuckled, his hands meeting hers over the red garland. He rolled her onto her back so he could see her face, and she blinked up at him, green eyes overflowing with happiness, and—dare he name it?—an emotion too stunning to even contemplate, especially since he was certain it was reflected in his own eyes. His face grew serious, and just before he leaned down to fulfill her unspoken wishes, he lightly tapped her upper arm, covering the quick pat with a caress. With that, he'd broken the spell.

Jane was confident by now that he knew precisely when Teresa Lisbon wanted to be kissed. He lowered his head to kiss her again, just to check his theory.

THE END

A/N: I so hope you enjoyed this fic. I'll be taking a break from writing any more new fics for this fandom until the new season starts, but I hope to see you here again for a tag for the first episode, "Scarlet Ribbons." While we're all waiting, I encourage you to check out a wonderful fic I just read by Rothelena, called "Safe House." Do a search for it—it's the best post- finale fic I've read, I think. Be warned, however, that the sex scene in this one-shot is very hardcore "M" (but even that is done well!). Don't let that scare you away from this beautifully written story.

Thanks for reading and for your continued support of my writing. You guys are amazing!