Excuse My Rudeness

A/N: Hello! :) Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I appreciate every review, favorite, and alert! Regretfully, I Own Nothing

Summary: Grace is taken from the very parking lot of the CBI offices by Red John. However, his intent is not murder, but rather to play mind games with the gifted mind of Patrick Jane. What happens between the red head and the serial murderer, though, is something so impossible that neither what could have ever anticipated it. Will Patrick and the CBI be able to save Grace from the grasp of Red John, and, more importantly, will she want to be saved? JISBON in the majority of the story, but also some flashbacks and lost love between Patrick and Angela. Enjoy:)

Chapter One: Excuse Me, Ma'am, But You're Gorgeous

Fat, puffy snowflakes fell lazily from the sky. They landed delicately onto Grace's red hair, forming a glistening effect that, when added to the light from the parking lot street lamps, seemed to create a halo that framed her face. It was a silent night; snow always seemed to have that kind of tranquility that it shared with the world. Things in California appeared to be surprisingly at peace.

The sound of Grace's black high heels clicked across the asphalt of the parking lot, slicing through the silent, crisp February air. The car keys she held in her hand jingled together, along with the sound of the shuffling of her clothes. If she would have only known what lurked in the shadows of the night, she may have tried harder to keep quiet.

Her car was parked on the opposite side of the CBI main entrance where she had exited; she had her own little parking spot in the back of the main lot that she had claimed for herself. She never minded the long walk. Not to mention, it was practically on its own in the parking lot; very few people parked around her because of the distance. The seclusion was an added bonus for the man who hid under the darkness of the sky, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

Grace reached her small silver Subaru, her eyes cast downward as she tried to find the correct key. She never even saw or heard or felt the presence of danger that stood behind her.

The next and final thing she could recall before she blacked out was the sweet smell on a red cloth that was pressed harshly and abruptly up to her nose.

The snow continued to fall.

#*#*#*#

Patrick Jane always had an acute sense for details. He noticed things that others simply overlooked or did not care to take note of. After all, he was a mentalist.

So it was no surprise that he instantly realized when Grace didn't enter into work the next morning at promptly 7:40, always twenty minutes early like always. Nor when he noticed that she had left her cell phone on her desk (which she did nearly every night), but had not returned within minutes of leaving the building to come fetch it. Nor was it unusual that Patrick had a distinct feeling that something was off. He was a master of noticing details, and his instincts were truly always correct.

So, once again, it was no surprise when Patrick went outside to look for her car in her usual spot and found it parked just as it had been the night before, unmoved and covered by a thick layer of snow. Her purse and its contents were spilled across the lot, half-buried by a layer of white flakes. Only one area of the car's windshield had been deliberately cleared of the snow, and in its place was a large red smiley face, written in a stick of lipstick that had cascaded from Grace's purse.

For once in this troubled life, Patrick Jane had desperately wanted his instincts to have been wrong.

#*#*#*#

Grace's head hurt like hell. She tried to open her eyes, but the light around her was too bright. She made a slight wince and tightly pinched them close again. Was she hung over? No…she hadn't gone out to drink last night. Or had she? She could hardly think back to the previous night. She remembered saying goodbye to the team, and Jane giving her some smart ass comment. The elevator was taking too long, so she took the stairs. Her feet were killing her. It was snowing. She got to her car and…

Oh, shit.

Suddenly she snapped her eyes open, ignoring the sharp pain in her temples and the dizziness that tried to overtake her. Her worst fears were suddenly confirmed, to her great dismay. She wasn't in her bedroom, or even any room at all. Rather, she was in the passenger seat of a car, traveling along an abandoned back road. God only knew where she was. She became aware of handcuffs on both of her wrists that locked her to the arm rests of the car seat. It didn't take a rocket scientist to deduct that she gun was gone as well. She was completely helpless.

The sudden realization came upon her to look at who was driving the car.

Trying to disguise her fear, she looked to her left. A young man, probably only a handful of years older that she and certainly no older than thirty-seven or so, was staring straight ahead, concentrating on the road. He was humming very softly and in tune to the Train song that was playing quietly from the speakers. Grace took in his features, trying to figure out if she knew him or not. He was Caucasian with brown hair, well-trimmed, and five-o-clock shadow across his jaw line. He had no harsh features, and was actually quite attractive and cunning. He certainly did not give off a physical vibe of being a ruthless kidnapper.

Without taking his eyes from the road, he spoke up to the redhead who was peering over at him ever so discretely. "Good morning, Grace."

She didn't respond, but instead inhaled quickly. That was not exactly the type of greeting she had been anticipating.

"Sorry if I woke you. I was trying to keep quiet, but it's rather lonely driving along deserted roads like these, and I figured you wouldn't be too offended if I turned on the radio." He went on.

Grace gaped at him. Was this man seriously trying to make conversation with her?

For the first time, he glanced over at her. He had bright green eyes, probably some of the most enchanting that Grace had ever seen. He smirked, then looked back at the road. "You know, I honestly figured you'd be more talkative than this. Ah well." He pointed to a bag of honey-nut cheerios that was sitting in the middle console. "Are you hungry?"

Grace stared at him, still utterly confused. Finally, she found her voice. "Wh—who are you?"

He smiled, his teeth bright and straight and captivating. He shook his head in amusement. "Really? You truly have no idea?"

Grace thought harder, but she was positive she had never seen this man before in her life.

He gave a little chuckle and shook his head again. "Well, that's slightly pathetic of the CBI, no offense." He took his eyes off of the lonely road and looked over at the young woman in the passenger seat. "I'm Steven. Steven Jacobs."

Grace gave him a blank stare. "I'm sorry, but I still –"

Steven cut her off. "I know, I know. You don't know me by that name." He rolled his eyes and then focused back on the road ahead. "Oh, CBI. You really ought to try harder. Anyway, I'm the one you call Red John."

Grace's eyes went wide and her heart practically stopped. Oh. Dear. God. This wasn't just a random abduction by some angry man who wanted revenge. No, this was the worst of the worst, the most awful and cunning and heartless man who the CBI had ever chased after. And here she was, handcuffed to the passenger seat of his car.

Steven obviously saw her reaction, and, for only a millisecond, Grace wondered if the emotion that she saw pass over his face had truly been sympathy. She shook the thought out of her head. There was no way this psychopath was sympathizing with her.

"Oh, calm down Grace. If I wanted you dead, you'd be far gone by now." Steven said in almost an attempt to console her. It wasn't very helpful.

"T-then why are you doing this? Why are you taking me?" Grace barely managed to squeak out. She could feel her throat closing up in panic. This could NOT be happening. She had to be dreaming. How on earth had she gotten into such a dilemma? Red John was supposed to go after Patrick, not her.

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" Steven turned the one corner of his mouth up into a small smile. Finally, he went on. "I needed to give Patrick a little bit of a wake-up call. To remind him that he's really not as close to me as he thinks he is. I'm always one step ahead."

Suddenly, Grace realized just how terrible this all was. Even if Red John (or Steven or whatever his true name was) truly didn't plan on killing her, there was no way he would simply let her go. Or…would he? Her head ached. What was the point of his plan? What was his intent? If he was willing to take her, why hadn't he just taken Jane instead? Or even Lisbon. Patrick was far closer to Lisbon that he was to Grace. Red John, of all people, had to know that…right?

"Where are we going?" Grace squeaked out.

Steven smiled at her. "Hmm, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you the surprise I guess. Not like you're going to run off and tell anyone." He joked. Grace didn't find it funny.

"Tough crowd." He muttered softly. He went on. "A little town in Georgia. We'll actually be taking a bit of a stop rather soon so we can check into a hotel and rest up. You've been sleeping for practically fifteen hours, believe it or not. You must have been exhausted."

Without thinking, Grace retorted, "Or maybe, oh, I don't know, it was from being knocked out." As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to take them back. Had she really just given sass to one of the most manipulative and brutal serial killers in California?

But Steven simply laughed, and Grace breathed a small sigh of relief. "Either way, you looked quite beautiful. I couldn't bring myself to wake you from it."

All the while, he kept his eyes on the road ahead. Grace looked him over. Had he just…complimented her? She was so confused and conflicted. He had kidnapped her, and then was nothing but friendly to her. This couldn't be Red John. Red John was bitter and angry and sadistic…wasn't he? How could the mid-thirties, very attractive, personable man sitting next to her possible be a ruthless killer? She most certainly had to be dreaming.

This wasn't who she had expected to be Red John at all. He was stunning, for God's sake! And she had never seen eyes like those in her life, so bright and glistening. Wasn't Red John supposed to be old and senile? That's how she had always pictured him. If this man truly was Red John, he had to have started killing in his very early twenties, for he couldn't be much older than she. How could he have murdered women and children? Especially the simple family of Patrick Jane? There was nothing about him that screamed, 'I'm a psychopath who enjoys killing innocent people!'

In fact, if she were to have seen him on the street, she probably would have made conversation with him and thought him to be a perfectly normal and friendly human being.

Not anymore.

Normal people don't take other people from their work places and drive them across country as they're sleeping. This was simply psychotic.

"You and me, Gracie, we'll make quite a team." Steven cut threw her thoughts. Grace's blood ran cold.

"A…team?" She stuttered. Did he expect her to kill with him? That they would be…partners?

Steven rolled his eyes jovially, as though he could read her thoughts. Grace frowned, noticing quite a few similarities between Steven and Patrick. If Steven hadn't killed his family and ruined his entire life, the two would probably be best friends. She shook the thoughts out of her head, scolding herself for thinking them. She blamed her odd daydreams on her headache.

Steven went on, explaining himself. "No, no, no. Not in that sense. We'll be partners in messing with the mind of Patrick. We'll have fun, you'll see." He said, just as a small town came into view. After miles of nothing, they had finally reached civilization. Grace suddenly realized she didn't even know what state they were in. She truly knew nothing. She really was helpless after all.

Steven continued. "You must be starving. I'm sure it's been a hard day and a lot to take in." He winked at her, and Grace's stomach felt ill. "Now, when we get to the little diner up ahead, you're going to be a good girl, won't you?"

Grace nodded. Not like she had another choice. Without her gun, she didn't stand a chance. Not to mention that the muscles she could see through Steven's casual shirt were a bit intimidating. She was a small girl, after all.

"I know you will be. I trust you, Gracie." He smiled over at her. She tried to hide the fear in her eyes. Be strong. Just do what he says and be strong. You'll find a way out of this eventually, just hang in there.

They pulled into a little diner alongside the rode, and Steven turned off the car. "The homefries here are to die for." He told her with genuine excitement. "You'll have to try them."

Grace gave him a small smile and nodded in agreement, trying to keep calm. As long as he was treating her with such kindness, she could play along.

She just hoped the team already knew she was gone.

TO BE CONTINUED

A/N: Alrightyyy, so that was basically just a little start-up chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it! There will be many more chapters to come, and I promise they'll get more exciting! Thanks a bunch for reading and REVIEW! :)