Authors Note: This is one of two post ep fics that came to me after Tuesdays episode "Bloodshot". This one is all Rigsby/Van Pelt, and will proabably be a two parter, only because it just wouldn't end in my mind. Any way, Thanks to Ebony 10 for being my beta.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, the janitor would not have come into the bathroom.
It was all her fault. If something happened to Rigsby she would never be able to forgive herself. If she hadn't been dating that, that—she wasn't even sure what to call him. He had tried to kill her. He had really wanted to kill Jane. Jane, the idiot. But she couldn't think of that now. She had to find Rigsby.
Where would he have gone to talk in private with another guy? He wouldn't have gone into one of the interrogation rooms. No, that would be too obvious. They had walked down the hall…the bathroom! He must have gone into the bathroom.
She rushed into the bathroom and saw the medic had just finished up with him. "Oh you're alive, are you ok?" She knew she was speaking barely above a whisper, but that's all she could manage. He was hurt pretty bad and it was all her fault.
"I'm fine." He managed to get out. He leaned one arm against the wall. He didn't want her to see how unsteady he was. She rushed up to him and put her arms around him holding him closely.
"I'm so sorry. God, I'm so sorry." She knew nothing she could say would make up for the pain he was in, the pain that she had caused. Why couldn't she have just listened to Jane? To hell with them working together.
"It's alright. It's alright." He whispered it in her ear. She pulled pack slightly. He looked at her and she knew it was going to happen. She loved him, really, just like Jane said. There was no reason to not kiss him right now.
In the split second it took her to form the thought she felt his lips on hers and in the next instant it was all fading away—the guilt that she had almost gotten Jane and Rigsby killed, the pain from the minor whiplash—the kiss was all she could feel. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and was going to deepen the kiss when she felt something moist on her fingers and it all came crashing back to earth.
He was hurt and it was her fault again. Every time she got close to someone they always got hurt. She pulled away, "I have to go."
"What? Grace, what's wrong?" She just shook her head. It wasn't his fault. She reached her hand up to her lips. They still tingled from his touch.
"I have to go." She said again and backed toward the door. Rigsby looked at her. He couldn't understand the look on her face. It wasn't regret but something close.
"I didn't mean…Grace, don't go." He tried to go after her but he was still a little unsteady, made worse by the electrifying kiss that they had just shared. He was powerless to stop her as she quickly left the bathroom. Rigsby stared at the door for a minute before sagging against the wall. He never understood women. He needed to talk to Jane.
"Damn you, Jane, you always ruin everything." Van Pelt almost yelled at him as she came into the bullpen to grab her things. She couldn't stay any longer. There was no way she could see Rigsby again tonight. He would ask what was wrong and she wouldn't be able to tell him. Why did Jane have to do his stupid mind reading thing and make her think about the past?
"What did I do?" Jane asked with a mild note of amusement in his voice. He had thought she would be happy about kissing Rigsby. This was not the reaction he had expected. He heard her desk drawer slam and a scraping as Van Pelt picked up her bag from where she had it under her desk.
"Nothing, Jane. That's the problem." She stomped off leaving him wondering what he had done. A few seconds later he heard another set of footsteps coming from the same direction.
"Jane," Rigsby said impatiently, "Did you see Gra—I mean, Van Pelt come this way?"
Jane gestured to his eyes "Blind, couldn't see anything."
"Sorry, I mean did you hear her come this way?" His impatience was growing.
"Yes, she did, but I wouldn't go after her right now. I think she needs to be alone." He was leaning back against his sofa thinking about lying down, but he wanted to wait for Rigsby to leave first.
"Hey, I have a question." Rigsby said, coming closer. "What is it with women?"
"She kissed you, huh?" Jane smirked. It was about time, but that still didn't answer the question about what was wrong with Van Pelt.
"Yeah, she kissed me. It was amazing. It was like no kiss I've ever had before. But then, it was like someone dumped a bucket of cold water over her head." Rigsby was sitting on the edge of the desk closest to the sofa. Jane could smell his blood and sweat.
"So, what's the question?" Jane knew what he was going to ask, but was going to make him ask it any way.
"Why did she stop? I mean, I know we work together, but I would never do anything to hurt her. I love her. Doesn't she trust me?" He seemed genuinely confused and upset.
"I don't know for sure. I can make a guess, but it could be wrong." Jane didn't want to get his hopes up. He had been wrong before and would be wrong again, but these were his friends and he didn't want to hurt them.
"That's ok. I just need something, anything, to go by." He was desperate. They had been there and she had pushed him away. He wanted to know why.
Jane sighed, "She's deeply repressed and emotionally shut down because of a trauma in her past that she has never spoken of to anyone or admitted, even to herself."
"What's that supposed to mean? What kind of trauma? Was she hurt? Was it an accident?" Rigsby was standing now and pacing in front of the sofa.
"I'm not actually psychic. It's just a guess. You'll have to figure it out on your own." Jane finally decided that waiting for Rigsby to leave was going to take too long and so he lay down on the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yeah, right. I have paper work to fill out." Rigsby slowly shuffled over to his desk. His head hurt and he was exhausted. He just wanted to fill the paperwork out and go home. He sat at his desk for a few minutes trying to concentrate, but found he kept going back to what Jane had said. What kind of trauma would cause Grace to shut down like that? He sat there for a few more minutes trying to concentrate on filling out the forms he was going to need to get CBI to pay for his injury. Finally he gave up, throwing his pencil across the desk.
He looked over at Jane and noticed that he seemed to be sleeping. That was not unusual though. He always looked like he was sleeping. Rigsby stood up and grabbed his keys out of the top drawer of his desk. He was just going to go home and forget about everything. Maybe he could focus better in the morning.
He walked out into the cool night air and, while it was a relief, it did cause him to stumble a little. "Should you be driving in your condition?"
Rigsby looked around and quickly identified the voice as that of Van Pelt. "I thought you were going home." He walked over to where she was leaning agents to wall of the building. He leaned against the wall next to her. The brick felt cool against his back.
"I forgot that my car was practically totaled. I don't blame Lisbon for not letting him drive, although I suppose that he can usually see."
"What was Jane doing driving?" Rigsby asked slightly amused at the thought of a blind Jane driving Van Pelt's car.
"We were trying to get away from that psycho, Don. He had me handcuffed so I couldn't drive. It was Jane driving or him getting a shot through the head. Thank God Lisbon came when she did. I don't know what would have happened."
Rigsby realized for the first time that night how close he had come to loosing Van Pelt. He didn't know what he would do if he had lost her. Quietly he said "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him."
"It's ok, you couldn't have known. I should have known his interest in me wasn't real. I feel like such an idiot." She could feel the tears she had been holding back start to well up in her eyes. Rigsby reached over and grabbed her hand.
"Any guy would be lucky to have you." They stood that way for a few minutes, neither wanting to move. "You want to go home?" he asked at last.
"Are you offering to drive? Because I've already almost died twice tonight. I'd rather not go through it again."
Rigsby chuckled slightly, "No, how about you drive? You can drop me off then take my car home for the night. You just have to promise to pick me up in the morning."
"I can do that." She pushed herself off the wall and put her hand out for Rigsby's keys. "Come on, let's get you home."
