The Mentalist- Ask Me Again.
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My first Mentalist story, so be nice. I kind of have an idea where this could go, so please review if you want me to continue!
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
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In the aftermath of the last Red John case, there had been many changes in the Serious Crimes Unit of the California Bureau of Investigation. One of the changes had been that Sam Bosco was to take over the Red John case, which drew the furious attention of all the agents and one particular consultant to the extent that most of the team were left unaware of a change that had been instigated by the two remaining members of the team; namely, Wayne Rigsby and Grace Van Pelt.
It had been the night when Maya Plaskett was returned to her parents that it had happened. Jane and Lisbon had each gone to their respective homes at Minelli's insistence that they had been through too much in the last 24 hours, and they were indeed tired, since they made little protest. Cho had also looked tired, and so Rigsby and Van Pelt had insisted that he go home, telling him that they could easily do the necessary follow-up work. Twenty minutes after the others had left, they had found a quiet space and were both diligently doing their work. Grace's voice suddenly broke out into the dark bullpen.
"That poor girl," she lamented, shaking her head.
"Who?" asked Rigsby, surprised by the sound of Grace's voice. "Oh, you mean, Maya Plaskett?"
"Yeah, I mean, she has to go home, after all this has happened, and carry on living without her sister. She was her identical twin, every time she looks in the mirror, she's going to see her sister's face."
"I didn't think of it that way," said Wayne, staring into the distance. He quickly shook himself, and continued with his work. They kept working, with Wayne rustling his papers and Grace clicking on the computer keyboard, and every so often Grace would glance at Wayne across the table.
"Wayne?" she eventually said, in an inquisitive sort of voice.
Rigsby was alerted by the fact Van Pelt had used his first name to the importance of what she was going to say. He put down his pencil and put all his attention on her.
"Grace?" he said back, curiously, but with a slight teasing tone.
"Do you ever think that we're all just...wasting time?" she said, staring into space while she swung lightly side to side on her desk chair, fiddling with her biro.
"How d'you mean?" Wayne asked her, worried. Grace's question had sounded an awful lot like philosophy. Wayne Rigsby was not a stupid man, but his world was a concrete one, full of facts and absolutes, and the world of philosophy was an enigma that seemed pointless to him.
"Like we all spend so much time procrastinating and worrying about things that we don't just" she let out a frustrated sigh, "stop being afraid and do what makes us happy in that moment, even though it could cause us pain later? That we've all just stopped taking chances?" As she came to the end of this speech she moved her chair close to his desk, sitting on it backwards to face him.
"I guess so," said Rigsby, slightly uncertainly, though glad she had not started spouting Plato.
"Rigsby?" she asked him suddenly. "That time when we were in the car and you wanted to ask me something, but the suspect arrived before you could? What did you want to say to me?"
Rigsby's mouth opened slightly, and then he shut it again. His face reddened as he realised what Grace was referring to. He had been wanting to ask her if they could go out sometime, something he had insinuated on many occasions, and that time he had decided to bite the bullet and just ask her. He knew Grace knew about his feelings for her; hell, the whole Bureau knew. He was certain that Grace had known what he was going to ask that day, which was why she had never asked him what he was going to say before. Afraid of rejection, Wayne had simply let it go. So why was she talking about it now?
"Umm..." Rigsby replied, looking down at his desk, returning to shuffling his papers. Grace put her hand on his wrist, stopping him from his fidgeting, which caused him to look into her eyes. She looked nervous, and looked like she was trying to find the words to say before she continued speaking.
"I think I know what you wanted to say to me, to ask me," she said, letting go of his wrist and twisting her hands together in her lap. "It's just...if you decided that you wanted to ask me what you wanted to ask me before, then...you could." Her part done, she let out a relieved sigh, and leaned forwards into her chair, with her face slightly hidden by the chair back and her hair.
Rigsby stared at her as she sat before him, the colour of her cheeks starting to match the red of her hair. No way could this gorgeous girl be asking him to ask her to go out sometime. Remembering what Grace had said about taking chances (she couldn't have said it for nothing, right?), he let out a deep, slow breath, and decided to ask her.
"Grace? Do you want to, maybe, go out with me sometime? I mean, for a date. Not if you don't want to, though, don't feel that you..." he said, starting to ramble. She cut him off with one of those pretty smiles that always stopped him dead.
"I'd like that, Wayne."