Authors Note:
Hey everyone, this is my first attempt at a story in the Mentalist community, but after last nights episode I just had to write something. What a terrific episode. It made me love Wayne Rigsby even more. This takes place after the episode finishes.
"I thought that I would find you here."
Rigsby looked up sharply at the sound of her voice, his position on the bench instantly stiffening, as his eyes darted quickly away from her face, once again focusing on the empty playground in front of him. Almost as if he could still see the children still playing. But it was close to midnight now, and only the wind was playing now. The swings swung lightly back and forth, the quiet whisper of the breeze through the jungle gym a haunting contrast to the music of laughter from earlier.
"Yeah, well I wanted a bar, but I figure I gave up more then enough control already today. So," shrugging his shoulders slight, Rigsby forced himself to relax back against the bench. " I ended up here. Guess Jane was right about this place."
"Don't tell him that. We wouldn't want his ego to get any bigger." Van Pelt forced a smile, valiantly trying to lighten the mood. "There's hardly enough room for him and it on his couch now as it is." Watching as a small smile graced his lips, she felt her own slip off. Over the past year, Van Pelt had become very adept at gauging the moods of her co-workers. And she was very used to seeing Rigsby smile at her. If she was being honest with herself, she had grown used to it, come to expect it, come to need it. She needed no words from him, to her, Rigsby's heartache was as tangible as the wind tugging at her hair.
"Do you mind if I sit down?" Van Pelt softly asked, already moving to sit on the bench, sure of the answer to her question. Any doubt that she had of this mans feelings for her had been rattled with his kiss. Then completely eradicated with his easy acceptance of her wishes above all others. The trust, adoration, and yes, love, she had seen in his eyes had been brutally honest in their innocence.
"Actually, I was just getting ready to leave." He responded, shifting on the bench to rise. His movements abruptly stilling as she reached out and took his hand with hers. Looking down at their joined hands, he was captivated at the contrasts. His large hand, darkened, sprinkled with hair. Hers, almost delicate looking with slim, long fingers, nails rounded and covered with a clear coat. He felt the icy, fist that had been squeezing him for the past few hours, lessens slightly.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He shook his head slightly, adding a soft "I can't, not right now." They continued to sit there, side by side, her thumb tracing small circles on the hand clasped in his. Degrees by degree she felt him start to slowly relax.
When he finally spoke, it wasn't quite what she had been expecting, but the smile that touched his lips held some of his usual warmth. "That's not how I imagined our first kiss." Treading carefully, for while his face carried a genuine smile, vulnerably and pain still lingered in his eyes, Van Pelt smiled at him.
"Really." She questioned, her smile reassuring him that she was okay with this conversation. If this was what he wanted to talk about, to focus on, she was more then willing to do that. Anything to ease the pain in his eyes, which she knew would haunt her in her sleep tonight. "How did you imagine it?"
Turning his body toward hers on the bench, Rigsby's answer came instantly. His inherent honesty and sincerity pouring through. "Outside. I always kiss you for that first time outside."
Van Pelt's smile softened, her plans to keep this fun and easy to comfort Rigsby, dissolving with the simple pleasure she found, being the focus of the adoring look he was sending her way.
" Sometimes we're out in the country and the sun is shining down on you, and your hair looks like a living flame." Reaching out with the hand not holding hers, he gently twirls his finger around one of her curls, tugging playfully before releasing it. " Or we're by the water at night, and the moonlight is making you face glows as I tip it up toward mine." This time he trailed the tips of his finger down her check, so caught up in his own words he didn't notice the shiver that Van Pelt wasn't able to suppress. " Or we're on the beach, and the wind is tugging your hair from its pins and elastics. It's dancing around, and you're frowning, annoyed that it won't stay put. I can feel it whipping my face and dancing in my hands. Or sometimes we get caught in the rain." Rigsby's eyes, which had been tracking the movement of his fingers, lifted to Van Pelts. The intensity in them startling. This time when she did tremble, Rigsby noticed. When he continued, his voice was deeper. "And while everyone else runs for shelter, you smile, lifting your face to the rain, and I watch the rain bead on your skin, running off in little rivulets. I think that one is my favorite, because when I kiss you, you taste like rain."
Seduced beyond words, Van Pelt could only stare at Rigsby, as the words he had spoken continued to paint images that filled her head and heart. Coming back to himself, Rigsby dropped his hands from her face, identical flags of color appearing high on his cheeks. The sense of vulnerability returning, and along with it that cold fist of dread. The emotional upheaval he had gone through today, blinded him to the pleasure on Van Pelt's face, allowing him only to see the shock. "I should go."
Quickly dropping her hand, Rigsby rose from the bench, his feet sending him in the direction of his car. Before she had taken more then two steps, his hand was once again tangling with Van Pelt's. Stopping, he let her tug him back a step, turning so he could face her. Sighing, he scrubbed his free hand over his face roughly, before pushing it through his hair. " I'm sorry grace. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. And I shouldn't have kissed you today. I'm sorry."
With his hand in hers, and his eyes on her face, Van Pelt felt so helpless and powerful at the same time. Agent Wayne Rigsby was one of the strongest persons she knew. Not just physically, although she very much enjoyed that, he was always so solid, so brave, so sure. And here he was, his vulnerability ripping at her, as it had been all day. The man she had originally pegged as a collage jock, a frat boy had secrets darker then her own. And she couldn't even imagine the kind of inner strength it would have taken him to get where he was today. But seeing him so open and hurt made her want to cuddle him, fix things she wasn't even certain she was ready for. But she knew she could. After today she knew, she had the power, given to her by his love and trust, to help fix him. That both terrified and thrilled her. But she knew one thing. She knew there was one thing that she could give him, and herself tonight. Reaching out with her other hand, she grabbed his, placing herself directly in front of him. " You're always smiling."
Not understanding what she meant, the wrinkles on his row deepened as he frowned. "When I imagine our first kiss." Van Pelt clarified, her lips twitching with a smile, as a look of understanding cleared the frown from his face, quickly fallowed by a smile. Letting go of his hands, Van Pelt reached up, taking his face between her hands. With a gentle tug, he lowered his head, as she stretched up on her toes, bringing her lips into contact with his.
Their lips met once, twice, a third time, before she sighed softly, encouraging Rigsby to capture her bottom lips between his teeth, deepening the kiss. Sliding her fingers over his whiskered cheeks, into his hair, then linking her arms around his neck, Van Pelt let him take her under again, wondering how a man could kiss so well, before all rational thoughts left her mind.
Rigsby changed the angle of the kiss again, his strong arms banding around her waist, pulling her close, before one hand slid up her back, deviling into her hair. Finally the need for air was too great to ignore, and they broke the kiss, staying wrapped up in each others arms. Leaning her forehead against his, Van Pelt smiled, amazed that this kiss had been just as amazing as the first. Even better if she was being honest with herself, because of the emotions involved.
Smiling, leaning in for on more quick kiss, Van Pelt stepped back, taking on of Wayne's hand in hers, not quite ready to give up all contact. "How about we considered that our first kiss?" Touched, Rigsby lifted their joined hands, pressing a soft kiss onto her knuckles, as his eyes expressed feeling neither were ready to have voiced. "Can I walk you to your car, Grace?"
Nodding her head, they turned, leaving the playground hand in hand. Jane was right. He did like the park.