Title: Penny For Your Thoughts
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Rigsby/Van Pelt, team
Summary: Rigsby hated public functions. Set during Season 1.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist.
Notes: Written for (and beta'd by) miss_peg in the secretdatingfic fic exchange on LJ. Also for the prompt 'be careful what you wish for' from Prompt Table I on mentalistprompt, also on LJ.
Penny For Your Thoughts
"Well the room is crowded, there's people everywhere
And I wonder, should I offer you a chair?"
- I Hope That I Don't Fall In Love With You by Tom Waits
Rigsby hated public functions. Absolutely loathed them. They always seemed like such a waste of time and energy. Time which would be better spent actually attempting to solve crimes rather than begging for money to be able to do so. He hated having to smile tightly and pretend he actually liked those with more money than they knew what to do with, when really, he was thinking they were spineless, spoiled brats.
Then there was spending additional time with his work colleagues.
That wasn't to say he didn't like them. No, he generally got on really well with the rest of the team. It was just the idea of having to spend even more time with them outside of work that was a little grating. Time when he could be doing things he wanted to do, seeing people he didn't get to see twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.
Apart from Grace, of course.
She was always the exception to his rule. Though naturally, he would have much preferred the opportunity to spend more time with her alone rather than with the rest of the team attached to his side.
With a grimace, Rigsby fiddled with the bow-tie. Why the hell did he have to believe the sales assistant when she had said that 'bow ties are cool' and that it suited him perfectly? Clearly, the girl had been off her rocker. And now, now the damn thing wouldn't stay straight and he was going to be fighting with it all night. In front of his boss, her boss and countless other important officials.
Typical.
Morosely, he took to his seat as soon as feasibly possible. Though several other people had already arrived, nobody Rigsby knew actually had. Besides, he didn't have the confidence to go and talk to the other people. He knew full well that he would probably slip up and say the wrong thing to the wrong person. It was just the kind of thing he did on occasions like this, when their public perception actually mattered. When he was on the job, having to break it to a somebody that their relative had died or questioning a suspect, he had no problems. He always knew exactly what to say and when. But when it came to making the CBI look good in front overpaid officials who thought too highly of themselves, Rigsby found it a little too hard to keep hold of his tongue.
He breathed a sigh of relief when Lisbon walked in, looking a vision in deep red, with Jane shadowing her. Rigsby watched as she irritably swatted at him, getting annoyed with his fussing or more likely, what he had just said to Mrs. Hansen. There was something about the way they interacted, the comfortable closeness they shared that niggled a little bit. It didn't surprise Rigsby in the slightest that others occasionally mistakenly assumed they were in a relationship. Though they were completely oblivious to the fact, they really did act like they were an old married couple sometimes. Maybe, one day, they would see it, but until then, they would simply have to remain blind to their attraction.
Unlike him and Grace, however.
It would have been fine, if Jane hadn't announced that he liked - really liked - her over their first meal as a team. Then, he would have been able to simply bury his feelings over time, pretend they didn't exist and never had. Rigsby remembered his first meeting with Lisbon and Minelli all too well. They had outlined several rules and he had never had any intention of breaking them. He'd even made a joke when Minelli had brought up the rule about dating co-workers. After all, it seemed to make sense at the time, however now, less so. All it did was remind him that dating Van Pelt was an impossibility, however much he wished it wasn't.
Cho flopped down beside him, breaking Rigsby from his reverie. He had been so deep in thought that he hadn't even noticed that he'd arrived. Like Rigsby, Cho spent some time watching their boss and consultant flitting around the room, talking to various people. It was a little while before he decided to break the silence.
"I hate things like this," Cho stated bluntly. "Begging for money."
"Me too. We shouldn't have to," Rigsby nodded in agreement.
Half an hour later, Van Pelt arrived, apologizing profusely for being late. Rigsby stared at her, his mouth agape. Naturally, she looked stunningly beautiful and in Rigsby's humble opinion, put everyone else in the room to shame. It was only when he realized that Cho was staring at him scathingly that he realized he was sitting there with his jaw slackened. Eventually his eyes settled on the empty chair opposite him. Lisbon and Jane had settled a few seats down, sitting close to Minelli. Cho was faithfully remaining on his right.
He watched as Van Pelt dithered, torn between sitting with her boss and wanting to make a good impression or sitting with Rigsby and Cho. If she remained with them, the probability was that she would generally enjoy the evening a lot more rather than spending the whole night attempting to keep up with appearances. Rigsby's eyes lingered a little longer. Suddenly, Cho's company felt like it wouldn't be enough, he wanted, needed, Van Pelt to join them. Otherwise, the whole evening would go to waste. But should he invite her to sit with them, opposite him? How would that look to everybody else? His feelings for her had been badly disguised for six months already, this would just make it even more obvious, put more fuel on the flames. They were already subject to enough office gossip as it was.
Internally, Rigsby breathed a sigh of relief as she came to a decision and smiled brightly at him while sitting down. She looked excited to be there; probably because she was still just a rookie and hadn't grown as jaded and cynical as the rest of them. Given a couple more years, she would probably be loathing the situation as much as they were at that very moment.
"Isn't this exciting?" she stated and Rigsby found her enthusiasm almost infectious.
Briefly, as he watched her take a sip of water, he wondered what it would be like if they started dating. Secretly, of course, as they wouldn't be allowed to have it out in the open. What it would be like to steal touches, glance furtively, to just know that she loved him and he, her. All the while under the veil of darkness, with nobody else knowing what was going on. It all seemed terribly exciting, terribly illicit. As she grinned at him again, he considered what it would be like to run his hand through her glossy red locks, to stroke her smooth skin and kiss her as if his life depended on it.
How he wished it could happen.
But she wouldn't let it and therefore, neither could he. It would be far too disrespectful to even dare try.
Then again, there was something almost playful in her expression. Something that gave him hope that maybe, one day, he would get what he wished for. Of course, in a perfect world, they wouldn't have to hide away. They would be able to allow their relationship to bloom and grow and people would be pleased for them instead of scornful. But then again, there was no such thing as a perfect world. Hell, there was no way it was ever going to be possible in the world they lived in.
Unless one of them decided to move on from the CBI.
Rigsby watched as she placed the glass back down delicately and folded her hands across her lap. Desperately, he wished he could just tell her how he really felt. That he could simply reach out and touch her, meet her in a tender embrace. Feel her solid form in his arms instead of living on the dreams of something that was never meant to be.
"So Rigsby," she started gently, sounding as innocent as she possibly could. "What do you make of all this?"
Yes, Rigsby loathed public functions with every fiber of his being. But, he decided with a slight smile as Van Pelt's foot trailed up his shin, there were some positives to them.
end