A/N: This is a companion piece, of sorts, to my tag for episode 12, Consequences. This story takes place more or less immediately after the final scene with Rigsby, Van Pelt and Lisbon from Redline. As always, your feedback is welcome and appreciated. - aml


Rigsby took an early lunch break not long after Lisbon had informed him and Van Pelt that she'd changed her mind about reporting their relationship to HR. The entire situation had gone so pear-shaped in the few days since they'd impulsively decided to out themselves to the team, that they'd barely taken the time to step back and process the whole mess. He needed air. Fresh air and a quiet place to think.

It was an unseasonably warm and sunny afternoon for early February in Sacramento, so he settled on a bench across the street from the park facing the Capitol building. He'd picked up a cup of coffee from a nearby Starbucks and sat, nursing the rapidly-cooling liquid, trying to gather his thoughts into something that remotely resembled logic. His mind was so unfocused that he didn't even register the footsteps approaching behind him, until after Van Pelt sat down at the opposite end of the bench.

"I don't know if I'm ready to talk about all this, Grace."

She turned to face him, tucking her foot under her leg, as if they were sitting at home on her couch. "Then can I talk for a little bit, and all you have to do is listen?" He nodded, still staring out onto the park across the street.

Grace took a deep breath and turned back around so she was also staring out onto the park, in order to keep her emotions more in check. "You were right. We rushed this. And I'm sorry that I pushed you into something you weren't ready for. I thought that by going to Lisbon and confessing, we were doing the right thing."

Rigsby's anxiety was written all over his face. "It's not about who was right or wrong. We made a decision and it almost blew up in our faces, Grace. This is exactly what I didn't want to have happen. Were you really prepared to walk away if it came to that?"

"I don't know what I was prepared to do, or not do. We're good cops, we haven't let this get in the way of our work, I honestly never believed that Lisbon wouldn't let it slide."

"That's not all, though, is it?" he asked stonily before he downed the last of the coffee, crushing the cup in one hand and tossing it into a nearby trash can.

Van Pelt bit her lip painfully, deflated at being caught out so easily. "No." She chose her next words very carefully, knowing that there was no way to say what was going to come next without potentially hurting them both. "I … I thought that if it came down to a choice between us, if one of us had to go, that you would leave the Bureau, and I could stay. You're the one who said screw the rules, screw the CBI. Was that all a lie? Just a way to get me into bed?"

Rigsby stretched his long legs out on the sidewalk in front of him and scrubbed his face vigorously with the heels of his hands. "This has gotten so fucked up, Grace. To answer your question, no, it wasn't a lie. I have never lied to you about how I feel about you or what I wanted from you. I have spent every day since we closed the Foster case trying to figure out how we can make this work, have everything – our jobs and each other. I didn't like lying to Lisbon, and I sure as hell didn't enjoy being blackmailed by Patrick Jane, but I didn't see any other alternative. Until we found a way around the rules, or we agreed - " he put special emphasis on this next word - "together, about whether one of us would leave, it was the only choice we had. I'm sorry about everything I said today, and yesterday. I know your job is important to you, but when you started pushing so hard for us to come clean, I assumed it was because you'd accepted the possibility of being transferred, that our relationship was that important to you that you'd risk it."

"Wayne, do you not understand how much easier you'd have it if you left, instead of me? You have years of experience and with your arson investigation training, you could go anywhere. I don't have any of that," she responded indignantly.

"I don't want to go somewhere else, Grace. Because I'm not sure that I'd have you with me." He saw her about to interject, and cut her off at the pass. "I know what you're about to ask, about everything I said this morning, about marriage and commitment. To be honest, Grace, I'd never given marriage a second's thought until I met you. My feelings for you have me so turned around sometimes that I wonder if I'll ever be able to get out of my own way, to express how I feel without screwing it up or sounding like an idiot. I want all of that, someday - house, kids, a yard and maybe a dog. But if we can't even get through this situation without turning it into a showdown, without being able to work it out rationally, we're not ready for that step yet either."

Grace was about to retort, and realized that she didn't have a counterargument. "You're right. Making sacrifices is hard, and we haven't figured out how to do that yet, I guess." She started scuffling her feet on the sidewalk, unsure of their next move. "Everyone's always told me that women can have everything they want these days, you know? Family, kids, great career, the whole package. Maybe they were wrong."

Rigsby scooted further down the bench, so they were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, and tentatively reached for her hands, clasping them tightly in his lap. "It doesn't have to be that way for us. Lisbon may not realize it, but she's bought us some time to figure this all out, get our heads on straight and decide what we want for our future. I have to be honest with you though, Grace, I don't think we have a whole lot of time to decide what to do."

Van Pelt looked up, confused. "How do you mean?"

"You've noticed that they still haven't replaced Minelli, right?"

Grace was truly puzzled at the sudden change of topic. "Yes, but I don't understand how that affects us."

"Minelli let Lisbon pretty much run the show on her own terms. It had been that way the entire time I'd been with the Bureau. The new boss, whoever that may be, probably won't be as forgiving."

Van Pelt rested her head on his shoulder, completely exhausted from the emotional upheaval of the last few days, and hopeful that her gesture would be received as the peace offering that it was. "You don't think Lisbon is going to end up with Minelli's job? I figured they'd interview a few people, if only just for show, but my impression was that Minelli expected Lisbon to take over for him if he ever left."

"That may have been the case, but I doubt he planned to go out the way he did. And given the circumstances, I don't think Lisbon's high on the Bureau's list. I suspect they're going to want to bring in someone who's going to be a little more hands-on, and that affects all of us. If they wanted Lisbon, she'd have already moved into Minelli's old office."

Van Pelt closed her eyes, trying to stave off a tension headache that she could already feel forming behind her eyeballs. "You're probably right about that. So what do we do now?"

Rigsby gently turned her around so they were sitting face-to-face. "I think we need to take a break for a couple days, just to get our heads together. Lisbon may have given us the go-ahead to continue to keep our relationship quiet, but I think we're not ready to go back there, yet. We'll pick this conversation back up this weekend, when we have time to really talk, and not get distracted by work. Is that okay?" He searched her eyes for any sign of doubt or conflict, and only found relief and agreement as she nodded.

"I think that's a good plan." She reached up to wrap her arms around him in an awkward hug.

Running his hands through her hair, he whispered quietly to her.

"We'll make this work, Grace. I don't know how, not yet, but we'll figure it out. I promise."