Chapter 24: The Christmas Party
December 18, 2008 - Evening - CBI Headquarters
The bullpen had transformed into something almost festive.
String lights along the cubicle walls, plastic Christmas tree in the corner, table laden with potluck contributions that ranged from excellent to "Rigsby definitely bought this at a gas station." Holiday music played from someone's speaker, competing with conversation and laughter.
Lorelei arrived at seven wearing a deep green dress that made every head in the bullpen turn. She found me near the coffee station, smiled, kissed my cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"You look amazing," I said.
"You look nervous."
"Team parties make me nervous."
"Why? They love you." She took my hand. "Now introduce me properly to everyone."
Van Pelt found us first, practically bouncing with excitement. "Lorelei! I'm so glad you came. Let me introduce you around."
She dragged Lorelei away before I could object, launching into introductions with other CBI agents. I watched from a distance, System tracking the social dynamics automatically.
[ **ANALYZING: LORELEI SOCIAL INTEGRATION** ]
[ **COMFORT LEVEL: HIGH** ]
[ **TEAM ACCEPTANCE: 97%** ]
[ **NATURAL CHARISMA: EFFECTIVE** ]
[ **ENERGY: 58/100** ]
Rigsby appeared beside me, beer in hand. "Your girlfriend's great, man. Way out of your league."
"I'm aware."
"How'd you manage that?"
"Honestly? No idea."
He laughed, clapped my shoulder. "Well, don't screw it up. Women like that don't come around often."
Lisbon approached next, wine glass in hand, expression warm. "She's lovely, Colen. Genuinely lovely. Don't screw this up."
"Why does everyone keep telling me that?"
"Because we care about you and want you to be happy." She sipped her wine. "Also because if you hurt her, Van Pelt will organize team intervention."
"Noted."
Cho appeared silently, as always. His nod toward Lorelei across the room was his version of enthusiastic approval.
December 18, 2008 - Later
The dancing started around eight-thirty, makeshift dance floor cleared in the center of the bullpen.
Lorelei pulled me onto the floor despite my protests. We moved together awkwardly at first—I'd never been good at dancing, neither version of me—but she made it easy, leading without making it obvious.
"See?" she said. "Not so terrible."
"You're doing all the work."
"And you're letting me. That's what makes it work."
From across the floor, Jane watched. His expression was complex—happiness mixing with something darker, more painful. Recognition of what we had, contrasted with what he'd lost.
Later, when Lorelei went to get drinks, Jane approached.
"You're lucky," he said without preamble. "Having someone who sees past the job, who grounds you in something real."
The statement carried weight, layers of meaning underneath. Jane thinking of his murdered wife, his lost daughter, the life Red John had stolen.
"I am lucky," I said quietly. "I don't take it for granted."
"Good. Don't." He sipped his tea—even at parties, never alcohol. "Relationships like that are rare. Especially in our line of work. Hold onto it."
"You had that once."
"I did." His smile was sad, distant. "My wife kept me grounded. Made me remember there was more to life than reading people and solving puzzles." He paused. "Then she was gone, and I forgot how to be anything except the hunt."
The vulnerability was rare, precious. Jane rarely discussed his family except in abstract terms or angry determination. This felt like trust.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Don't be. Just learn from my mistakes." He gestured toward Lorelei. "Whatever investigation she's helping with, whatever justice you're seeking—don't let it consume you both. Sometimes survival matters more than resolution."
Before I could respond, Lorelei returned with drinks. Jane's expression shifted back to his usual playful mask, the vulnerable moment sealed away.
December 18, 2008 - Late Evening
The party continued, alcohol flowing, inhibitions lowering. Lorelei had been charming all night—complimenting Van Pelt's dress, discussing football with Rigsby, even coaxing a smile from Cho.
And then she started her game.
Rigsby told a story about a disastrous stakeout. Lorelei laughed, touched his arm, leaned in close. "You're funnier than Tedd mentioned."
My jaw tightened involuntarily. The System registered my possessive response before I could control it.
[ **ANALYZING: OWN EMOTIONAL STATE** ]
[ **JEALOUSY MARKERS: DETECTED** ]
[ **POSSESSIVE RESPONSE: ACTIVE** ]
[ **SUBJECT LORELEI AWARE: PROBABLE** ]
[ **ENERGY: 60/100** ]
Lorelei caught my expression, eyes sparkling with mischief. She was doing this deliberately, testing my reaction like she had at the team dinner months ago.
Twenty minutes later, she complimented Cho's deadpan delivery, touched his shoulder while laughing at his rare joke. Cho looked mildly confused by the attention but didn't move away.
I found her at the drinks table. "You're doing this on purpose."
"Doing what?" Pure innocence.
"Testing me. Making me jealous."
Her grin was unrepentant. "You're adorable when you're jealous."
Van Pelt appeared behind us, clearly having overheard. "Oh my god, you two are so cute. Tedd, she's totally messing with you."
"I'm aware."
"And you're falling for it," Lorelei added, kissing my cheek. "Because you love me."
"Unfair advantage."
"All's fair in love and psychological warfare."
The team descended then, teasing mercilessly. Rigsby demanded to know if I was always this possessive. Van Pelt insisted we were "relationship goals." Even Lisbon joined in, mentioning something about "healthy jealousy being natural."
Jane watched from his perch on—where else—the couch they'd dragged into the party area, expression amused but knowing. He understood the dynamic, recognized Lorelei's playful testing for what it was: checking boundaries, confirming devotion, building intimacy through gentle provocation.
December 18, 2008 - Midnight - Driving Home
The party wound down around eleven-thirty. We left together, Lorelei leaning against me in the elevator, tired but happy.
"I needed tonight," she said quietly. "Just being normal. Not thinking about shelters or investigations or dangerous consultants."
"We can have both," I said, pulling her closer. "Normal life and justice for Miranda."
"I know." She looked up at me. "That's why I love you. You don't make me choose."
The drive to her apartment was comfortable silence, fingers interlaced, Christmas lights blurring past the windows. Normal couple things, ordinary moments that felt extraordinary against the backdrop of everything else.
The System provided final updates.
[ **RELATIONSHIP ASSESSMENT: LORELEI MARTINS** ]
[ **TRUST LEVEL: 94% - MAXIMUM** ]
[ **EMOTIONAL BOND: PEAK STRENGTH** ]
[ **TEAM INTEGRATION: COMPLETE** ]
[ **RELATIONSHIP STATUS: FULLY COMMITTED PARTNERSHIP** ]
[ **ENERGY: 62/100** ]
At her door, she kissed me goodnight—long, thorough, the kind that promised more tomorrow.
"Love you," she whispered.
"Love you too."
I drove home through empty Sacramento streets, mind quieter than it had been in weeks. Tonight had been normal, human, a reminder that we were more than investigation and danger. We were a couple, building something real amid chaos.
Tomorrow would bring new complications. Wagner was still at Safe Harbor. Lorelei would continue gathering intelligence. The investigation would escalate further.
But tonight had been ours. Just us, and a team that accepted us, and the fragile normalcy we were fighting to protect.
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