A Santa for Christmas

Lisbon sighed. It was after 10pm, and she was sitting in the living room, trying her best to wrap the presents in a way that didn’t look like it had been done by a troll. It wasn’t like she’d never wrapped presents before. Her daughter’s birthday had been just a couple months ago and the presents had looked lovely. So why was it this difficult now?

Grinding her teeth, she ripped her latest try off the Play Dough package and threw the wrapping paper to the side. She was losing her nerves. Eloise surely wouldn’t mind even if it had been a troll wrapping the gifts for her, she was only four, after all. But Lisbon did. She wanted the presents for her child to look like her parents cared about them. Only the wrapping paper proved unbelievably uncooperative. It was unhandy, crinkled way too easily and - had just cut her hand! 

Lisbon repressed a curse, looking at the tiny wound between her thumb and forefinger. For being barely visible, the cut burned inadequately badly. While she was still looking on, the white line first turned pink then red, as blood started to seep out. Great. It wasn’t much, but till it sealed itself off, she could forget wrapping the presents unless she wanted weird red spots all over them. 

She had just gotten up to look for a tissue, as she noticed the door to the living room open. Jane came in, holding two cups of tea, the small green one for himself and a bigger one for her. The smile on his lips widened as he noticed the chaos of discarded strips and wadded balls of wrapping paper on the table and the floor. 

“Looks like war in here.”, he said, setting the first cup on the table and brushing some paper to the side to make space for the second one. “Who’s winning?”

Lisbon had found a pack of tissues on the windowsill. Trying to get one of them out only using one hand, she turned around to him. “Huh?”

“Who’s winning? You or the wrapping paper?”

She shrugged. “The paper, I guess.” Holding up her hand for him to see the tiny cut, she kept trying to pull a tissue from the pack in her left hand. 

“You cut yourself? Wait, let me help with that.” With two steps he was at her side, taking the pack of tissues out of her hand and handing her one of them.

“Thanks”

“Is it bad?”

Absentmindedly cleaning off the blood, Lisbon gave him an irritated look. “It’s tiny. Burns, that’s all.”

“Who would’ve thought? The fierce Agent Lisbon, brought to her wits’ end by a bit of wrapping paper.”

Lisbon raised her brows, attempting a smile. “You wanna give it a try? Seeing how I can’t right now.” She nodded down at her hand.

“Sure” 

It was certainly unfair. It had probably taken Jane ten minutes to wrap the toys, but to Lisbon, standing there, waiting for the cut to stop bleeding and watching him, it seemed like it had only been a couple minutes. And the presents looked more than presentable. “How do you do that?”

“Patience”, Jane answered, leaning back on the couch and proudly looking at his work. “I always loved arts and crafts.”

“Last time you said that, you dipped a sponge into my coffee.” 

“It was there at the perfect moment. A bit of spilled coffee goes a long way to make a fake file look authentic.”

Lisbon refrained from answering and instead took another look underneath the tissue she was holding onto the cut. It looked like it had finally stopped bleeding. 

“Come here”, Jane said, tapping the couch, “I promise there’s nothing but tea in your cup. Vanilla strawberry, no sponge.”

Not looking at him, Lisbon blinked and answered: “Yeah, right. Just gonna put this into the bin.” Giving him a smile to soften her words, she held up the spotted tissue.

As said, she went to the kitchen and dropped the tissue into the bin before rinsing off the last remainder of blood from her hand. While she was at it, she felt her brows tighten again. 

Drying off the water from her hands with a towel, she heard the echo of her daughter's question in the back of her mind. "Will Santa come tonight, mommy?" It had been Lisbon's last day at work before the holidays, last morning rather, and she'd been so happy to be able to pick up Eloise from preschool afterwards. Jane hadn't been with them. He would've had the perfect answer. All she could think of had been the simple truth. “There is no Santa, sweetie”, she’d replied softly. 

But, as she’d probably learned in preschool, Eloise had answered that all her friends got their Christmas presents from Santa. She'd asked if Santa thought her a bad child.

Lisbon had protested that she thought she was wonderful. And then she’d reminded Eloise that she got presents every year. That all those presents kids got were from their families. But also that Christmas wasn't about presents in the first place. In the end, all it had led to was a bad feeling in her stomach because she’d disappointed her daughter.

Shaking her head, Lisbon hung the towel back on the hook and returned to the living room. Jane was sitting on the couch, sipping his tea, his surroundings still messy with discarded wrapping paper, waiting for her. But instead of sitting down next to him, Lisbon sighed and started tidying the place. 

She only noticed that Jane had gotten up from the couch as he reached down to take her hands in his and made her drop the wads she'd just picked up right back to the ground. "Jane, what-?"

He wasn't smiling anymore when he looked up from her hands and into her eyes. Instead, he seemed to be contemplating her. His expression worried, he caressed her hands with his thumbs. "Sit down for a minute with me, will you?", he asked gingerly, "I've watched you work all day when you should be enjoying your holidays."

Lisbon averted her eyes, then after waiting a moment she took her hands out of his. She couldn't stand the softness of his touch. It had caused her eyes to burn, and she was blinking, trying to make the sensation go away. "This room needs tidying", she grumbled.

"Teresa." She heard him sigh as she bent down to pick up the paper he'd made her drop. Noticing him reaching for her hands again, she pulled away, staying out of his reach. His concern distressed her only more. She was ok. She didn't need to be touched or held softly. She would be fine if he just left her alone. Swallowing she continued picking up the wrapping paper.

Her hands began to shake as the living room she was standing in changed. Wallpaper instead of wooden logs. The mess she was trying to get on top of not just a bunch of discarded wrapping paper but bottles of beer, some still half full, sticky and smelling sweetish in a way that made her want to puke. Stains on the floor, where one of them had shattered into pieces and spilled the rest of its content after being thrown. Smelly clothes from her brothers and her father. Dirty dishes left by her father for her to put away. Jimmy’s toys. And her, Teresa, standing in the middle of it, without an idea where to start. Knowing, whatever she did, her father would still be disappointed with her.

Hearing herself gasp for breath, she let fall whatever she was holding to wipe those darn tears away. It was a memory! Nothing more. It couldn’t hurt her, as long as she didn’t let it. But her hands were shaking only harder the more she tried to control it. And those tears, why couldn’t they stop burning in her eyes? They weren’t helpful.

Unexpectedly feeling Jane’s gentle touch on her hands again, pulling her closer to him, she let herself sink right into his arms. She’d been harsh to him because she felt helpless herself, but all he offered was comfort. No return of her moody snark, no aggravation in his demeanor. Even before he’d seen her fight against tears, Jane had known she was hurting behind the tough facade and the grumpy attitude that she’d used to fight off those unwanted feelings. And all he wanted to do was to soothe her pain. “I’m sorry”, she mumbled, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

His response consisted in a low hum as he shook his head and pulled her closer, gently stroking her back. His softness with her made more tears shoot into Lisbon's eyes. Tears she tried to blink away but couldn’t, so instead she put her arms around his back, holding onto him for support, as her body shook with a sob she didn’t manage to suppress. 

Only a moment later she was crying into his shoulder, giving up trying to hold back the tears. Tears she had never cried before. Tears about a time in her life she’d buried deep inside her, so it couldn’t hurt her anymore. But a simple question by her daughter had brought it all back to the surface, even though Lisbon herself hadn’t realized it at first.

She let Jane carefully steer her to the couch and then pull her onto his lap as he sat down. After giving her time to take her arms from around his torso, and snuggle to his chest, he wrapped his arms around her again, holding her tightly to him. 

It wasn’t long before Jane started rocking her softly, making her feel warm and sheltered in his arms and causing her tears to subside. Enjoying his tight hug too much to move, Lisbon sniffed a couple times, trying to free her nose. Suddenly sensing him bent forward, she slung her arms around his shoulders to hold on. She wouldn't have needed to though, he was supporting her perfectly and sat back just a second later. “Here”, he murmured, making her open her eyes to look at a tissue he was holding up for her.

Mouthing a ‘thank you’, she took it from him and dried her face. 

There was a low humming sound, resonating deep within his chest, as he softly stroked her arm, and she settled back against him. Kissing the top of her head, he mumbled: “Wanna talk about it?” 

She knew it was an honest question. Not a request for her to tell him, but the offer to lend an ear to her pain. Still, her instinct was to shake her head. Push all that pain back into the hole where it lived, not bothering her. Most times. Talking about it would make it seem real again. 

And yet, it was real. It had happened. And it was still hurting her till this very day, turning Christmas preparations into a task instead of something she might enjoy. Finally, she said: “I think I told you once that I don't understand why people have to tell their children lies about Santa Claus."

"Hm... You said the whole Santa revelation crushed your heart like a cigarette."

"It did." Lisbon stopped again, just enjoying the feeling of Jane drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Low voiced, she continued: "It’s silly tough, still being this upset about it.”

He shifted behind her to look at her, an expression on his face she couldn’t pin down properly. But his eyes were still soft, so full of tenderness and care as he brushed a strand of her hair from where it had gotten stuck on her damp face. “I've never known you to be silly, Teresa.”

Swallowing, Lisbon looked down. He wasn’t hurt, nor angry. Just not having her talk down on her feelings. Brush them away like she used to. She glanced up at him but instantly averted her eyes again. Enjoying how he was holding her, not demanding anything, she absentmindedly played with the collar of his shirt, her voice little more than a whisper as she hesitantly began to talk. Telling him about that first Christmas after her mother had died. 

When her family hadn’t gone to the service on Christmas Eve, but her father had still been out late. She hadn't truly believed in Santa for a few years by then, but still worked hard to clean the place for him. Because that year, she'd hoped Santa was real. She'd clung to the thought that come Christmas morning, there would be presents to make her family happy. To make her father happy. She'd promised her brothers, Santa would come - he had done so every year before, hadn't he? And for one day everything would be good again. They’d be a happy family again. But instead she'd woken to her drunk father returning home in a horrible temper.

It was hardly her worst memory, and yet she’d never told anyone about it. But here was someone she wanted to talk to. Someone she trusted to listen, and not to judge. A man who’d never turn into what her father had become. Holding Jane's hand tightly in hers, their fingers intertwined, Lisbon sighed, grateful to have him. 

Gazing at all the discarded wrapping paper lying around, she mumbled: “I made a pretty mess in here, huh?”

Jane chuckled before kissing the side of her face. "Looks like that wrapping paper was a pain in the butt. Right on you to tear it into tiny pieces. Show it its place."

"What?" Giggling, a grin appearing on her lips, she turned to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

His thumbs slowly stroked her lower arms, still an attempt at soothing her. "Anytime", he replied softly after a while.

There was a moment of silence between them as they just enjoyed the company of the other and Lisbon felt even her last tense muscle relax. She started to hum silently, smiling in the comfort he provided. Pulling his arms tighter around her, she allowed her eyes to fall shut. 

In his arms she felt safe as she had with no person before. It was his softness, his care. Knowing that he would never turn violent against her or their child. And that he was there for her, no questions asked.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep, love.”

“Hm? Why?” Irritated, she snuggled closer to him, feeling warm and comfortable in his arms.

“Um… If you ask me, you could go ahead and sleep, while I tidy up. But I assumed you wanted to go to the service.” 

Lisbon groaned silently, rubbing her eyes. “Yes, I do. You don’t have to tidy though, I created this chaos, I can get rid of it when I come back.” Hesitantly she got up to have a look at her phone. She was almost too late already.

“I’m gonna walk you to the door.”

He was there first, getting her coat from the rack and helping her into it. Turning around, Lisbon hugged him, pecking his lips.

“Be careful, will you? There’s a warning for black ice.”

She promised she would.

Returning home after midnight, she was surprised to find the light in the living room still burning. It was shining through the window, brighter than just the lights of their Christmas tree or Jane’s reading light. Entering the house, she found the light in the hallway lit as well. She’d just taken off her shoes when Eloise stormed towards her from her room, calling out ‘Mommy!’. She looked adorable in her pajamas, her hair wild as if she'd just gotten out of bed.

“Hey, sweetie. I thought you were sleeping.”

Eloise shook her head. “Daddy said I can see Santa!”

“He did?”

She nodded enthusiastically, smiling wide. “We put cookies on the table! And milk. And carrots for the reindeer!”

Lisbon couldn’t help but return the smile at the excitement in her daughter’s words. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”, she said, taking off her coat to hang it on the rack. Then she lifted Eloise onto her arms, planting a kiss on her hair. “Do you know where your daddy is?” Jane hadn’t mentioned any of this to her, and Lisbon started wondering what he was planning. 

Eloise shook her head, the curly hair brushing Lisbon’s cheek. “He said I wait for you.”

“Hmm.” Lisbon considered the light she’d seen coming from the living room while playfully scrunching her face in thought. “And then he said you would see Santa?”

More enthusiastic nodding answered her. “When you're home.”

“Well, if he said so, maybe we shou-”

A deep voice coming from the living room interrupted her. “Ho ho ho.” 

“Did you hear that?”

Eloise nodded.

Again. “Ho ho ho.” Louder this time. Causing Eloise’s eyes to gleam. 

Carefully letting her down to the ground, Lisbon thought she had to be grinning sheepishly as she said: “You should better go and check this out.” 

The girl was off within the very second, almost jumping towards the living room. The wooden door was only leaning against the lock, easy for Eloise to push open. Another deep “ho ho ho” came from inside, making Lisbon slightly shake her head. She knew what she was going to see when she followed her daughter.

Still smiling, she stepped into the door frame, just in time to see Jane lift Eloise onto his arms, when the girl exclaimed: “Daddy!”

“No”, Jane protested, his voice still unusually deep, “I’m Santa, little one. Don’t you see?”

Eloise shook her head, laughing. “No, you're daddy!”

“But look! I’ve got a beard, a hat, and a red cloak. I’m Santa!”

“No. You’re daddy.” 

Leaning against the door frame, Lisbon chuckled, an indescribable warm feeling spreading in her chest. Jane certainly looked the part, with the red throw he’d swung over his shoulders, the obviously fake beard long enough to reach to his chest and a red Santa hat covering most of his golden curls. Red blinking stars on the white rim and a white bobble. His appearance was hilarious and heartwarming at the same time. He glanced over to her, a big grin causing the beard to rise up making it look even more ridiculous. Winking, he turned his attention back to Eloise.

“Ok”, he admitted in his normal voice, “You’re right. But can’t I be your Santa too? Look, I brought you presents and those cookies you put on the table look delicious.”

Eloise giggled.

“Is that a yes? Can I be your Santa?”

The girl nodded, ginning from one ear to the other.  

“That’s very generous of you.” Jane smiled down at her. Right when Eloise opened her mouth, yawning wide.

"Oh, you look tired, sweetheart. How about you go to bed and Santa will read you a story? And tomorrow you can open your presents."

Eloise nodded slightly, yawning again, her eyes threatening to fall shut. But when Jane was slowly letting her back to the ground, she clung to him, asking: "You bring me to bed?"

"Nah, you go ahead and choose a story." He kissed her hair before placing her back on her feet. "I'll be there in a minute."

A feeble 'ok' answered him. But before Eloise left the living room, she stopped, looking up at Lisbon with big eyes, and asked: "Will you listen to Santa's story too, mommy?"

"Of course, sweetie."

She followed Eloise with her eyes, as she went along the hallway to her room and was surprised to feel Jane take her hand, pulling her into the living room with him. He brought her close to his chest, his fake beard tickling her cheek and the side of her throat as he whispered into her ear: “Good?”

“This is amazing”, she muttered, turning her eyes to him. With a grin on her lips she tugged at the tip of his fake beard. “You look hilarious. Where did you get these things?”

He shrugged. “Bought them a couple days ago for fun. Didn’t think they’d come in this handy.” 

“You made her very happy.”, Lisbon mumbled, casting another look towards the hall.

"It seems so." His smile caused wrinkles to appear besides his eyes. "And I'm glad to see I made you happy as well."

Lisbon chuckled. "Very. Are you going to wear this stuff every year now?"

"As long as Eloise likes me too. Though I think I should invest in a better cloak."

"Maybe", Lisbon agreed, eyeing the throw. Then, careful not to strangle him with the elastic band, she pulled the fake beard down from his face, revealing his beautiful smile.

His soft fingers caressed her cheek, gingerly touched her chin. "Can I be your Santa too?", Jane whispered, his eyes looking right into hers.

Lisbon lifted her hand from the fake beard to his neck, burying her fingers in his soft curls and pulling him closer. "I’d love that", she mumbled against his lips, and kissed him.

They separated only slowly. Opening her eyes, Lisbon sensed Jane planting a tender kiss on her cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”