Disclaimer: Hmm. Sure I own it. That and Google.

A/N: Happy Birthday FadeIntoTheBackground! It's actually tomorrow, but she's abandoning us to go away. I'm nervous, cause she leaves the most wonderful reviews, and I'm always worried that my next post won't live up to her freakishly high expectations. Hope you like it, Al.

A/N2: Wrote first paragraph in my head when I was up at 4am on the morning of a Duke of Edinburgh expedition. Then when I remembered I had to write for Al, I used it. :P Just a lil' background info.

The lone horn of the ferry called hauntingly across the water. The pale light of the rising sun reflected off the ripples in the water, not big enough to even be called waves. A fire, lit by high school students the night before, still smouldered gently, and the gentle breeze picked up the smoke and carried it out over the water. She stared again at the horizon, the faint line where the sea almost merged with the sky. She wrapped her arms around her knees, curling into a ball and pulling her feet away from the edge of the rock that was being lapped by water.

Her tears had long since dried onto her face, and she felt as though she had none left to shed. Finally, she felt empty. It was bliss, and yet it hurt more than anything else. A shadow blocked her from the rising sun.

"Grace?" asked a low, concerned voice.

"Wayne," she greeted. She couldn't even find the energy to be surprised he was there.

"Are you okay?"

"Did you follow my car?"

"I asked first."

"I'm fine. Did you follow my car?"

"Yes." He stopped for a second. "And we're both going to lie about the speed we were going at."

Despite herself, she laughed a tiny bit. He smiled, and extended a hand toward her.

"Join me for a walk?" he asked.

She slipped her hand into his and held on desperately as she stood. He guided her in a chivalrous manner across the rocks until they were walking by the edge of the sea.

"Your trousers are getting wet," she pointed out.

He gave a cursory glance downward, and shrugged.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He recognised a mischievous look in her eyes. "Talk about your trousers?" she asked. She sobered quickly, though. "Do I really have a choice?" she asked.

He surprised her by replying, "Of course you do. I won't force you to talk about it if you don't want to."

She squeezed his hand.

"No, after running away like that, you deserve an explanation."

"Your sister did commit suicide, didn't she?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Oh, Grace, I'm so sorry."

He stopped walking and wrapped his arms around her. She clung on to him as though he were saving her from drowning.

"We came here," she choked out, "on holiday, my whole family drove from Iowa with our caravan, and we stayed here for a week. Anna and I walked along this beach and talked for hours. Then we went home, and the next week, she…"

Rigsby made soothing noises, holding her even tighter.

"She could have told me," Grace whispered. "Why didn't she tell me?"

Lisbon and Jane had been following up a lead when the call came in. The daughter of their main suspect was at the top of a skyscraper. Police negotiators were trying to talk her down, but she refused to move.

Grace, Rigsby and Cho rushed out to the building and sprinted up the fire escape to the ledge where she was perching. Grace had slowly stepped out, shuffling sideways along to the girl.

"Stop," she said. "Stop or I'll jump."

"Callie," Grace began, "you have to listen to me."

"Why?"

"Because suicide won't solve all your problems. Everyone who cares about you…"

Callie snorted loudly. "I only have my dad, and he killed that guy. You know he did. He's guilty, I promise."

"Well, maybe you can explain why you think that once we've stepped down."

"You're the cop. Figure it out."

Grace was desperately lost and tried the only pre-tested method.

"Listen, Callie, my sister…"

The teenage girl rolled her eyes. "Oh, spare me, please."

And then she'd stepped off the ledge.

It had cast Grace back to battering down the bathroom door and finding Anna's wrists cut, bleeding out onto the tiles. She got off the ledge as quickly as possible and ran to the fire escape, vomiting over the side.

"Grace? You okay?"

Against all her efforts, tears were pouring down her face. "Yes, fine, well, no… I can't… I can't do this…"

With that she'd ran to her car and began to drive. She was concentrating so hard on seeing the road past her blurred vision that she didn't notice the CBI issue vehicle following after her.

"Maybe she couldn't tell anyone," Rigsby said. "Or maybe she was scared that if you knew, she wouldn't be able to do it."

Grace forced a smile and unwound herself from him.

"Thank you, but no one could stop Anna doing whatever the hell she wanted," she said, bitterness creeping into her voice.

"You're mad at her," Rigsby stated. "But I bet you had a lot more power over her than you think."

She sighed. "When did you get so sensible?"

Laughing, he began to wander slowly again.

"Lisbon's worried about you."

"How would you know?" she asked.

"Cho told her I was out after you, she called me. Told me not to come back if you weren't with me."

She felt herself grin – it felt good to know her boss wanted her back.

"What's happening with the case?"

"You'd know if you answered your phone," he said.

"Wayne."

He shrugged. "Lisbon, Cho and Jane are handling it. They'll survive on their own for a little bit."

"Well, if you're sure," she joked. She'd felt obligated to ask, but didn't really want to think about Callie's father or the man he'd killed. And especially not about Callie.

"How old were you?" Rigsby suddenly asked. "When Anna… sorry, you don't have to answer that."

"Fifteen," she answered. "That's why we went on holiday. I'm glad she waited till after, I guess."

He didn't know what to say to that. Slowly, he picked up a flat stone and skimmed it out across the water. It bounced seven times before sinking.

Grace laughed. "She would have liked you. Anna loved guys who could skip stones, mainly because she couldn't."

"I'm sorry I'll never meet her," he replied.

She paused for a second. "Would you like to sometime? I mean, visit her grave with me? … sorry, that's a really creepy thing to ask someone."

Surprised, he said, "No, I would."

"You could meet my parents too," she told him, smiling.

Rigsby laughed a little. "You're forgetting you broke up with me."

"I'm not forgetting," she said calmly. "I'm giving up on trying to care."

"Care that you broke up with me?" he asked, confused.

"Care that it was the right thing," clarified Grace. "Care about the rules."

The words made him happier than he'd been in a long while, but he was worried. It didn't sound like her saying them.

"You've had a shock, Grace. Tomorrow you'll care about the rules again."

She shrugged. "I doubt it."

Turning to face him, she linked her hands behind his neck and pulled his face down to hers, brushing their lips together.

"And anyway," she whispered, "Tomorrow's another day."

It was as much as his self-control could handle. Rigsby pulled her closer and kissed her in an embrace almost violent with its intensity.

It felt good to finally give in, and so Grace kissed him back, and left the rules for another day.

Or maybe the day after that.

And yes, if I owned the Mentalist, this is pretty much EXACTLY what would happen. :P