Authors Note: Before you read this know that this entire story is Eve215's fault. She said she would gladly take the blame, so if you have problems with it, I blame her. SO do you ever have an idea in your head that will just not go way? That is this story. It would not leave me alone. It took me less than a week (I started writing this last Sunday, and finished yesterday) and most of it was written in the week hours of the morning while my daughter wasn't sleeping because we couldn't find her blankie. We've found it now, so it's all good. This story could be seen as a continuation of my story "Guilt" but it is not necessary to read it to understand this. I will not stop you if you do want to read it though. This has not been betaed, with finales and all coming up for me next week, I just wanted to get it posted before that started. SO any and all spelling and grammatical errors are totally and completely my own (although I have re-read this like four times to check). I am the champion of the horrendously long authors note, so feel free to skip it, but just one more thing-any one out there make jam?
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I would not be writing this, it would be on the show, no matter how wrong I feel this particular pairing is. SO be for warned.
She wondered how long he had planned on sitting in the back of the church without telling her he was coming. She had seen him there, on Easter. At first she didn't believe that it had been him, and by the time church was over, he had left. She had asked the woman who had been sitting next to him, and the description of him that she gave seemed to fit. She had told Grace that he was stunningly handsome, even if he wasn't wearing a tie in church, and that he had laughed at the most inappropriate times, especially for an Easter service.
Grace had to stop her before she went on a tirade about people who thought it was good enough to just come to church on Easter and Christmas and think they were going to get saved. Grace had been tempted to tell the woman that the man who had sat next to her for the entire service was an atheist, but was afraid that she would try to convince the pastor that they needed to burn the church down because it had been sullied by such an unbeliever.
Next week he had been there again. Sitting on the last row, the chapel wasn't as full as it had been the week before, and this time she knew it was him, but as before, he was gone before the end of the service, it was almost like he hadn't been there at all.
He didn't say anything about it at work, and she didn't either. If he noticed that she watched him a bit more than before he didn't say anything. She had been trying to figure out why he was going to church, her church. She hadn't noticed a change in his attitude, he was still the same smug jerk he always was, still caused Lisbon more grief than necessary. He seemed to get the biggest kick out of making her mad.
She looked for him now, sitting in what was coming to be his regular spot in the last pew. Every Sunday that they weren't on a case, he was there, and every Sunday he left before the service was over. She was beginning to think it wasn't church he was coming for.
It didn't take long after that realization to figure out what had probably caused him to come to her church that first time. She thought back to the week before Easter, she had been trying to finalize plans for the weekend, her mom was trying to get her to come home, but she didn't want to spend that much time on a plane, only to have to turn around and come back again.
The excuse she had given was that she was singing a solo in the church choir for their Easter service. She had been talking at work, when else did she have the time, and really, it gave her an excuse if her mom started to bug her about things she didn't want to talk about, like her personal life, or lack thereof.
She thought it suspicious that Jane had walked into the break room almost as soon as she had hung up the phone, but it was Jane, most of what he did seemed suspicious. And now, there he was, sitting in a church he didn't believe in, that worshiped a God he hated, just to heat her sing. She had wanted to approach him about it at work, but it never seemed like a good time. There were always people around, and it was not a conversation she wanted to have Rigsby or Lisbon overhear.
So she had worked out a plan. She wasn't going to be singing today, she had told the director that she had a cold, and that she was afraid that singing would hurt her voice. He had believed her, why wouldn't he, she was a good church going girl, why would she lie.
She had waited until after the service had started to come into the chapel. She wanted to make sure Jane was already sitting down. She stood in the back waiting for the choir to stand to sing. She wanted to see what Jane's reaction was to her not being there before she approached him.
She didn't have to wait very long, the choir was standing to sing now, and there was Sara, the backup soloist, the one who sang when Grace was out of town on a case, or even in town on a case. She really did have a pretty voice; her range just wasn't as wide. She didn't know what she was expecting from Jane, but the second it became clear that Grace was not the soloist; he was up, out of his seat and heading towards the exit.
She almost had to run to catch up with him, and caught him just outside the church building. "Jane! Wait!" She called out to him, and ran up to grab his arm.
"Grace. I see you finally noticed me." He said looking at her with a look that startled her and caused her to drop his arm.
"Why are you here?" She asked knowing that the direct approach was always the best approach when dealing with Patrick Jane.
"Why am I standing on the front steps of a church?" Jane asked, smiling at her, clearly mocking her. If she had been Lisbon she would have hit him, but she was much gentler than that, and so she simply rolled her eyes.
"No, why are you at my church? You've been coming for months, ever since Easter. You think I haven't noticed you, but I have. I want to know why." She was trying to look fierce; she had been studying Lisbon, trying to figure out how she managed to intimidate men with just a look, but was nowhere good as she was.
"Well," Jane looked around, trying to figure out a good reason for him being here, other than watching Grace sing. "I've decided that I need guidance in my life, and this seemed as good a place as any to get it." He flashed a smile at her again, hoping she would buy it, but she didn't.
"You are not as good a liar as you think you are Patrick Jane. You leave before I get a chance to come and find you every week, and today, when I wasn't up there singing, you left, before the first note was sung." She hadn't asked a question outright, but there was certainly one hanging there waiting to be answered.
"You have a beautiful voice Grace, you don't show it off at work, not even when we're singing Happy Birthday to someone. Instead we're stuck with a bunch of off key tone deaf monkeys, and here this whole time you've had this beautiful gift that you weren't sharing, why is that?"
"Don't change the subject. Why didn't you tell me you were going to come? Instead you slink in and sit in the back the last possible second before the sermon starts, and you're gone the second the choir is done singing."
He looked her straight in the eyes. The intense gaze that he usually reserved for the boss was on his face, and she found such scrutiny to be almost unbearable. She was ready to turn away when Jane reached out and grabbed her hand. "The choir doesn't sing in the same spot all the time. They always sing after the pastor has said something, to be honest I never really pay attention to that part. Really, I just want…" he paused at this point, breaking his look away from her like he's ashamed of what he's about to say. "I just want to hear you sing."
If this had been a normal conversation she would be smirking right now, she would put on her self satisfied 'eureka' face and gloat in the moment slightly. But it isn't any normal moment. The tender way that he said the last part had her putting her free hand on his shoulder, even though she had never really touched him before. She was about to say something when his intense gaze was back on hers.
"Why do you hide your beautiful voice, in all honesty, I didn't think there was anything that could make me like you more until I showed up here on Easter. When I heard your voice for the first time, singing, I mean I've heard you talk before, but singing, it was angelic. I would have done anything to hear it again, and so I've been coming every Sunday, just to hear that angelic sound again."
Grace couldn't help feeling slightly embarrassed at the praise he was lavishing on her. "I don't just sing at church you know." She said looking anywhere but his face. She was afraid to see that intense look in his eyes. It was gone however, replaced by a playful look.
"Oh and where do you sing, anywhere I would be able to hear?" He had let go of her hand at this point, playful with her now, he didn't feel the need to restrain her anymore.
"OH, um" she hadn't actually expect him to ask that question, it was always amazing to her how he could switch gears so quickly. "I, um, sing in the car, to the radio, and when I'm at home, I sing while I'm washing dishes and doing my laundry, and I sing in the shower, but then, most people sing in the shower don't they." She was slightly embarrassed at her last confession and cursed her pail coloring that caused the red in her face to be even more pronounced.
"So, could I come to hear you in the shower?" He asked laughing, not at her, but just in general. He found it amusing that she had admitted to him that she sung in the shower.
"What? NO!" She toke a step away from him at that point, uncomfortable with the turn that the conversation had taken.
It was then that the door to the church opened and the crowd started to flow out. They were still standing in the middle of the front walk of the church, like islands as the families and seniors flowed around them. She jumped when the pastor came up behind her, and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Grace, wonderful to see you here. The director told me you were feeling a bit under the weather." His over jovial manner was what had attracted Grace to this church when she had first come to Sacramento, but she was silently cursing it now, knowing what was going to happen next. "And are you a friend of our star here? I've seen you sitting in the back, but I've never had the chance to meet you."
Before Grace could intervene, Jane took the hand proffered by the pastor. "Patrick Jane, I work with Grace, and let me tell you, I think she is just amazing." He gave the pastor what she has come to call charm smile #5, the one he used on people he secretly despised but wanted to impress anyway.
"Mr. Jane was just leaving," Grace said turning to the pastor, she wanted to move Jane away from the pastor as quickly as possible, she liked this church and didn't want to have to find another when Jane's mouth started to think for him like it does more often than he would probably admit.
"Well, I hope to see you again next week," The pastor said shaking Jane's hand again, as if he didn't notice that Jane hadn't let it go.
"As long as sweet Grace here keeps singing, I'll keep coming back." He said with a slightly toned down version of charm smile #5, it was smug smile #3 at this point. "Walk me to my car Grace." He said turning to her. She wanted to say no, but like so many of the female's that they encountered in their line of work she is powerless to his looks and smiles and she begrudgingly walked with him across the parking lot to the one of the furthest spots from the door.
The parking lot was thinning rapidly, but there were still quite a few cars in the parking lot, and soon the pastor who had been watching them go lost sight of them behind some of the larger vans and SUV's in the parking lot.
"So, what do you say, do you do privet concerts?" He asked as they stood by his small blue car.
"I don't know, I don't usually sing be myself." She said, not looking at him. She noticed for the first time that she's a hair taller than him with the shoes she's wearing, and smiled about it.
"I've been coming to hear you sing for a while Grace, and today was the first time you weren't the soloist." He stepped toward her, effectively trapping her next to the car, blocking off her means of escape.
"I usually sing with the choir." The intense look was back, and this time, she didn't look away. She attempted to stare him down. She had seen Lisbon do it before; stare down Patrick Jane, Grace just wasn't sure how she managed. Did he usually have that smoldering look in his eyes? The look that made her toes tingle. She was failing the battle and found herself leaning back against the car; it was as if she needed the added support to keep herself standing. The door of the car next to his opened, causing him to take another step towards her, he was almost completely pressed up against her now, and she could feel his legs pressing against hers.
"You don't need backup Grace." He whispered in ear. His breath against her skin; in such an intimate position; caused a reaction in her that she hadn't expected. "You are fabulous on your own."
She knew he wasn't just talking about her singing anymore. "Patrick." She started; it was more of a whisper than anything. She was not sure where this was leading, and not sure what she thought about the possibilities.
"Tonight Grace," he said before pulling away from her, "I'll cook dinner, you sing. What do you say?" He was back to his boyish grin, simple grin #2, and there was no hint of the smoldering that had been in his eyes just moments before.
"Um, ok. 7:00 sound good?" She asked shakily.
"Perfect. I'll see you then." She smiled and waved at her as he got into his car and drove off. She just stood there staring at him, watching him go. Whatever she had expected to come from confronting him today, this was certainly not it.