Author's note: This is my first attempt at something resembling a songfic. Rob Thomas' new single has been nibbling at my brain for a few weeks now, and I finally pulled together an idea that I think makes for a workable fic. This story is set in the same somewhat-alternate universe as Aftermath, After Hours, and His Girls. I hope you enjoy!
As always, Bruno Heller owns these characters - not me!
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It was a rare day that Wayne Rigsby arrived home before his wife. Usually, if they were both going into the office, they would ride together; this morning, however, Grace needed to be in early, as the Cyber Crimes Unit was preparing for an important trial so she drove in separately. As he pulled into the drive and unlocked the front door, he noticed how dark and quiet their little house seemed without her warmth and upbeat presence. He trudged upstairs to their bedroom to change out of his suit; checking his watch, he realized it was already 8 PM. Heading back down to the kitchen, he decided to whip up a quick pasta dish; he was hungry, and if he were to guess, whenever Grace made it home, she will have skipped whatever the CCU ordered in for dinner.
As he filled a pot with warm water, he heard her car pull up in the drive. The back door opened, and she dumped her keys unceremoniously on the hall table, walked into the living room and slumped down on the couch, face buried in her hands. He could tell immediately that the work day had not gone well.
Oh what the hell she said
I just can't win for losing
And she lays back down
Man there's so many times
I don't know what I'm doin'
Like I don't know now
Rigsby leaned against the doorway that looked into their small but cozy living room, and debated whether to ask her how her day went. Grace solved that problem for him by answering his unspoken question first.
"We're not going to win this case we're working on. I can just feel it," she said sadly, as she leaned back into the leather couch and closed her eyes. He could see tears threatening to leak out of the corners of her eyes. The case her team had been working on involved a pornography and prostitution ring, and Grace had gotten unusually emotionally invested in the outcome. Many times in the previous two weeks, her moods would be like a roller coaster – up, down and sideways, sometimes all in one day.
"Grace, please try not to think that way. You guys have worked too hard, amassed too much evidence to let this get away."
Grace turned to look at him and laughed ruefully. "All that evidence isn't going to do us any good if we don't have a victim who's willing to cooperate. We lost her today. Someone from the gang got to her, spooked her so badly that she's no longer willing to testify. All that work, and it's not going to get us anywhere." She rested her head back in her hands and curled up in the corner of the couch in a position that Rigsby had learned long ago meant don't touch me and please leave me alone for a while.
And I don't know what I'm supposed to do
But if she feels bad, then I do too.
So I let her be.
Rigsby turned and headed back into the kitchen. The pasta was ready to be pulled off the stove; the drained the pot and set about filling two pasta bowls with noodles, red sauce and some freshly grated parmesan. He set one plate at her place at the dining room table and settled down to eat; he knew she would come in when she was ready. He ate slowly, quietly, hoping that she might snap out of her reverie, even temporarily, to join him for dinner. When it became clear that she had no intention of leaving the couch, he set her plate in the microwave for later and went about clearing up the dishes.
She sits down and stares into the distance
And it takes all night
And I know I could break her concentration
But it don't feel right
As he dried the pots, he paused to look at his wife. She was expressionless, staring out the picture window in the living room to their backyard, focused on nothing but the inner workings of her own head. He was sorely tempted to drop everything he was doing and just take her upstairs to bed, but something in him sensed that instead of being relieved to be able to focus on anything that wasn't work, she would end up resenting him for the distraction, however, pleasurable it may have been at the time. She got up from the couch and headed upstairs, either to the bathroom to have a good long soak, or to their bedroom. Once he'd washed, dried and put away all of the dishes, he slowly climbed the stairs, stopping at the very top of the stairs in the hall so he could check on her without interrupting.
By the light of the moon
She rubs her eyes
Sits down on the bed and starts to cry
And there's something less about her
And I don't know what I'm supposed to do
So I sit down and I cry too
And don't let her see
His heart broke for her. Since she had joined the Cyber Crimes Unit, not long after they had quietly gotten engaged, her new team had worked on several successful long-term investigations. Grace had played a key role in all of them, often in acting as the victim's confidant and liaison with the CBI, helping to ensure that their cases were seen through to completion. Knowing that she'd poured every ounce of her compassion and drive into this case,t hat the rug was about to be pulled from under her, and worst of all, that he could do absolutely nothing about it, frustrated him to no end. He decided to take a walk.
Having circled their block two times already, he found himself back at their front stoop. He looked up to their bedroom window, and saw that the lights were out. He sat down, wanting to collect his thoughts and calm down before heading upstairs to bed. On the off chance that Grace was still awake, he didn't want her to know how upset he was on her behalf, and the hurt he'd felt when he realized that she didn't want him to try to comfort her. A quick check of his watch showed that it was already 11:30, and he couldn't put off heading upstairs to bed any longer.
He found her curled up on her side of the bed, still in her work clothes, clutching his pillow tightly. She'd apparently cried herself to sleep. He sat at the foot of the bed and gently pried her shoes off, returning them to their proper place in the closet. He considered waking her up to get her to change into her pajamas, but thought better of the idea; she had fallen asleep in her clothes before and almost always woke up in the middle of the night and changed on her own.. After changing into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, he gently lifted her off the bed to pull back the covers and tucked her in. He climbed in on his side of the bed, turned out the lights and shifted to his side to wrap his arms around her, to let her know he would always be there to protect and comfort her, even if she didn't know she needed it. He pressed a light kiss on the crook of her shoulder and laid down to go to sleep.
She shuts out the night
And tries to close her eyes
If she can find daylight
She'll be all right
She'll be all right
Just not tonight