Title: A Single Red Cent
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Summary: Van Pelt decides she isn't about to let Jane get away with it that easily. Episode tag to 5x03 Not One Red Cent
Spoilers: 5x03 Not One Red Cent
Disclaimer: I do not not own the Mentalist.
Notes: Written for with the monsters in the Paint It Red Great Stocking Exchange 2012.
A Single Red Cent
Grace Van Pelt stood by the elevator, waiting for it to reach the third floor. For some reason, it always seemed like she timed it wrong. Tapping her foot impatiently, she glanced at her watch. In reality, she had no need to rush off home. There was nothing waiting for her there apart from a can of soup to be heated up and her TiVo box. And then, it was the weekend. No case meant no work and more often than not, that translated into solitude. Of course, Van Pelt did have a social life, but that didn't necessarily mean she had something to do each and every weekend.
And in all honesty, she was feeling lonely. It had been a long while since she had last shared a meal with pleasant company. Automatically, her mind drifted back to O'Laughlin. His ghost still haunted her memories from time to time and she wondered if she would ever truly gain closure from the issue. And then, she found herself thinking about Jane. If there was ever a man who truly understood what it was like to lack closure, it was him. Almost without any cognitive thought of her own, she turned on her heels and strode back to the bullpen.
She was almost relieved when she saw Jane was still there. Then again, she hadn't expected him to leave any time soon. It didn't take long for her to close the distance between them and she stood directly in front of him with her hands on her hips. Jane smiled back at her. Neither of them bothered with polite greetings; it had barely been two minutes since they had seen one another last and besides, they practically lived in one another's pockets. It was only natural that they had an incredible amount of familiarity with each other. Sometimes, it felt like they might as well have been family.
"You know what? I've changed my mind. You owe me, Jane."
"I do?" he asked, feigning innocence.
"I worked out Hutten's involvement first, therefore you owe me lunch. For a week, I believe you said?"
"Did I? Why would I have said anything as foolish as that when I knew I was going to lose?"
Van Pelt swallowed down a smirk as she recalled Rigsby immediately backing out of the bet. She couldn't blame him for that; out of all of them, he was the one who had lost the most money by far to Jane in foolish bets. And then there was the simple fact that Jane had managed to work out the answer simply by reading her pen. Sometimes, little tricks like that still impressed her, but for the most part, she missed the days when she could stare at him with wide-eyed wonder and try and figure out how he did it. It had been nice, learning a new trick from him today, if a little frustrating initially.
Then, there was the fact that he had actively admitted to knowing she would figure out that John Hutten was the ringleader in the armed robberies. Feedback like that seemed like it was hard earned and even now, Van Pelt still craved the praise from her colleagues. She especially wanted praise from Lisbon, because she was the boss, and Jane, because of his quicksilver mind. Between the two of them, she had learned so much about fighting crime and had become a better cop for it. And that was despite the fact she had had to make a few sacrifices along the way.
"Jane…"
"You're right. So, tomorrow?"
"Why wait? I'm hungry now," she stated.
"I think I fancy a burger. Yeah, all grease and cheese and tomato ketchup. Doesn't that sound good, Grace?"
"You go through all those other options and you decide you want to take me to a burger joint?" she said, exasperated. It was little wonder Lisbon was perpetually driven to developing ulcers because of Jane. He bothered her more than the rest of them put together. In that moment, she briefly felt sorry for her boss and then she realized, she was actively seeking out Jane's company. He wasn't really that bad; he was just a little overbearing sometimes.
"Yeah, it sounds good," she eventually relented. "But you're still paying."
xxx
Jane drove her to the nearest burger outlet to the CBI headquarters. Van Pelt didn't complain; for fast food, she knew it did fairly decent quality stuff. Besides, they had all used it one time or another, mostly because it was so convenient, especially if they were working late for one reason or another. He remained quiet during the journey, almost pensive, and she couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his brain. Then again, she tended to think that relatively often when it came to Patrick Jane. Just as she thought she was beginning to figure him out, he threw some sort of curveball which made her question just about everything she knew about the man.
It was quiet when they got there; the dinnertime crowd had long since dissipated and it was still too early for anyone looking for a late night snack after an evening out. As soon as they walked in, they were able to place their orders. Despite the fact she generally kept an eye on her food intake – for health reasons more than any sense of vanity – Van Pelt did like to treat herself every so often. She knew a burger once a month wasn't going to harm her and she was under no illusions to fool herself into thinking a chicken burger would be the healthier option. Besides, Jane had implanted the thoughts of a nice, greasy cheeseburger in her head and now, she genuinely wanted one. After Jane seconded her order, she watched as he patted himself down, as if to try and locate his wallet.
"I seem to have forgotten my wallet," he stated and she almost believed him for a second.
Van Pelt rolled her eyes. "You're paying me back."
"Of course I will. I'm a man of my word."
Almost immediately after paying, she knew that she would never see her money again, but it didn't matter. This was distraction therapy for the both of them and as far as she was concerned, it was worth every cent.
"So, Jane, how did you work out that-"
"Let's not talk about work, Grace. Don't you get enough of it in the office?"
"Yes," she admitted quickly.
She was almost surprised at just how easily the conversation flowed while avoiding the subject of work and their colleagues by extension. Jane proved himself to be fairly knowledgeable on several subjects and a heated debate about theology was interrupted by the waitress delivering their burgers. Other subjects soon followed: the best places to eat in Sacramento, whether or not aliens really did exist, whether or not people had the right to universal health care, and football. Van Pelt was almost pleased to find herself correcting Jane on many of the misconceptions Jane had about the game; her father bringing her up to be a tomboy had some uses, after all.
The time disappeared all too fast and Van Pelt was disappointed when Jane cleared away their trash. Still, she could feel the tiredness seeping into her bones and she realized it was probably for the best that she finally headed off home. Even so, it was nice spending time with Jane and discovering some of his thoughts and interests outside of the job. Sometimes, it seemed like he was so fixated on Red John that there was nothing else to him. In reality, she had always known that wasn't the case, but it was still good to have the timely reminder.
"Thanks, Jane," she said when she got out back at the headquarters. "I had fun."
"So, where do you want to go tomorrow? Chinese? Spanish? Or what about-"
She interrupted him before he had a chance to get into a roll. "I think tonight was enough more than enough."
"You sure?"
"Knowing you, I'd end up paying for the lot, so I think I better quit while I'm ahead." She leaned forwards and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. He just smiled wistfully in response and Van Pelt was relieved. "I'll see you on Monday."
Before he had a chance to speak, she turned around, dug out her keys and climbed into her car. In that instant, the world suddenly felt that little brighter. Maybe there was hope for them all, somehow.