A/N: This story is an AU begun after the first season. Assume canon through 'Red John's Friends.'
Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist.
"Daddy?"
Jane squinted through the bright light. A small hand brushed his knee. He looked up into a smiling face, the deep blue eyes wide and happy, framed in a mess of golden curls.
"Would you like some tea, Daddy?"
The child handed him a plastic cup barely bigger than his finger. He sipped the tap water and smiled, trying to remember why he felt a familiar dread stirring in his chest.
There was a stuffed tiger seated to his left. The child reached out to pat him on the head. The tiger winked.
Jane finished his tea.
"That was delicious. Can I have some more?"
She grinned, dimples creasing her round cheeks as she took the cup back from him and refilled it. Little puddles spilled over the edges, pooling on the table and soaking into the red cloth. The table grinned a watery smile.
"Here you go, Daddy. Would you like some cookies?"
"Cookies?" he gasped, sending her into a fit of giggles. "Why, of course I would love some."
"Ok, Daddy. I'll be right back."
But as Jane watched the little curly head disappear through the door, he knew, somehow, she wouldn't be. In these dreams, she never came back.
The tiger lifted a cup in his stuffed paw and began to drink.
The Road Not Taken
2013
Monday, May 13
5:43 am
The thin light trickling over her shoulder traced patterns of shadow into the polished tile at her feet. The flitting shapes seemed to grow and bend, like waves lapping at the edges of a rocky marble shore. She could almost see the foam begin to circle her ankles, pooling around her feet as they sank into wet sand.
Lisbon blinked. She needed coffee.
"Jane?" Her voice felt raw against her throat.
The consultant, who had been reading a flashing screen labeled 'Departure Times,' turned to face her.
"Take Rosie? I'm going for coffee."
Jane wordlessly held out his hands as Lisbon carefully shifted the sleeping child from her shoulder and into Jane's arms.
She turned to go, but then stopped mid-stride to look back at them, blinking the glaze from her eyes. "You want anything?"
Jane shook his head.
"Cho?"
The other man, seated on a nearby bench, looked out over the top of a book he had been staring at, unseeing, for the past quarter of an hour. "No. "
Lisbon nodded and left, her footsteps joining the cacophony of sound reverberating off of the glass walls of Sacramento International Airport.
3 years, 5 months ago
2010
Thursday, January 7
3:17 pm
A grey rain tapped gently against the paned glass of the tall windows. The building hummed with the tide of office noise. Lisbon, in her drifting thoughts, wondered why someone didn't record it onto one of those meditation soundtracks. It would be much more soothing than "jungle sounds," anyhow. Something she could fall asleep to, if she didn't have a stack of Jane-related complaints to manage. She sighed, glaring at the inches-tall pile of forms. Sometimes she wished she could file one herself. But that would only mean more paperwork. Instead, she contented herself with the thought that they had closed yet another case and Jane was currently occupied with pretending to sleep on the couch. She glanced up, just to make sure he hadn't moved or decided to use his spare time to hypnotize the janitor. That was when she noticed Rigsby standing in the doorway of her office, regarding her with a strange apprehension she hadn't seen since his first weeks in the unit, when Cho had convinced him of her determination to write him up if he didn't bring her coffee at exactly 7:30 every morning.
"Yes?" she addressed him, wondering how long he had been standing there.
Rigsby shuffled his feet, hands in his pockets. "Uh, Boss..?"
"Uh, Rigsby?" she replied, amused. He looked like he was standing in a pile of fire ants.
He cleared his throat, eyes flitting toward Van Pelt's desk as if assuring himself of something. Lisbon braced herself for what she anticipated would be a highly uncomfortable conversation.
"Um. I know you have rules for a reason. And I agree with most of them." His gaze stayed firmly planted on the ceiling.
"Most?"
"Uh… yeah."
"Rigsby. Spill," she said, waving her pen sharply in the air as if directing an orchestra. And… crescendo.
"Boss? Grace and I…" He looked her in the eye for the first time. "Grace and I would like your permission to…see each other."
Lisbon cleared her throat, trying to conceal a smirk behind knit eyebrows.
She hasn't responded yet, and Rigsby started rambling. "I mean…romantically. 'Cause we see each other every day without your permission. I mean… with your permission. Not— not that we need it to see. Um… But, if…we'll… keep it out of the office and stuff. No one even has to know… We just wanted your permission because Jane would probably notice and make a big deal about us not telling you. Of course we wouldn't have tried to hide it from you, but w—"
"Rigsby! I know."
"—didn't want it advertised—" He stopped frantically searching the office walls for a script. "You…know?"
"Rigsby, everybody knows. Hell, even the AG knows."
A blush crept up Rigsby's neck and settled itself on the edges of his ears.
Lisbon casually flipped a page of one of the complaints—the senator's wife—and sighed. "I knew it was probably a matter of time before it came to this. Actually, I'm surprised it took this long."
"Well, Grace was worried she would have to leave the unit, because she's the junior agent. But, boss, if one of us has to leave, I'll transfer to the cyber crimes unit or…"
"Cyber crimes, Rigsby? You can barely execute a database search without catching some sort of computer retrovirus."
"Yeah. Maybe forensics has an opening…"
Lisbon already regretted the words on the tip of her tongue. "Listen, Rigsby. I—firstly, I want you to understand that this doesn't end with me. I may be your boss, but I have a boss, and he has a boss who has a boss. I appreciate you coming to me with this, but rules are rules…and there is nothing I can do about it."
Rigsby deflated before her eyes.
She held up a finger. "But before you pull a career change, let me just say that I can't… explicitly ban you and Van Pelt from… seeing…each other—as long as I don't specifically have any reason or evidence which may lead me to suspect that such a thing may or may not be going on…" She gave him a significant look. "Got me?"
Rigsby's face split into a quick, nervous smile. "Thanks boss. I promise, we'll be—"
"Save it for Minelli. You're going to need it."
Rigsby practically skipped to the door.
"Oh, and Rigsby?"
He poked his head back through the doorframe, trying, and failing, to conceal the grin spreading across his face. "Yes, boss?"
"Be good to her." She met Rigsby's eyes over the glimmer of her metal desk lamp.
"I will." His grin grew impossibly wider as he whirled around and strode toward the bullpen.
Lisbon wondered whether she had entirely lost her mind. Firstly, there was no way this was staying out of the office, not with Jane analyzing their every move. And what about if they decided to go long-term with this? Actually, what about when they decided to go long-term with this? She was pretty sure Minelli was going to put in his two cents, which in this case meant firing both her ass and Rigsby's. But, she decided, at least someone in this unit deserved to be happy. And it might as well be them.
2013
Monday, May 13
5:48 am
The coffee was lukewarm. The twenty-year-old kid behind the counter was by himself and still half-asleep and forgot her sugar and travel lid. But it was coffee, and she welcomed the bitter distraction, sipping muddy water out of a thin paper cup. Feeling the exact moment when the buzz of the caffeine hit her, she made an effort to peruse the rows of Harlequin novels meant to entertain airline passengers during the inevitable delays. Walking through the shelves upon shelves of men and women pressed upon each other in compromising positions, eyes wide with passion, she wondered how the world could be so naively melodramatic. Pausing at one particular cover, a couple silhouetted against a brilliant orange sunset, she let herself be intrigued enough to pick up the book, if only to mentally discredit the cheese sure to be dripping from its tagline.
"'Never forget these days of wonder and bliss.' Catchy."
Lisbon turned to see Cho staring over her shoulder at the words printed across the picturesque beach. She smiled a little, meeting his solemn eyes with hers. "Funny, huh?"
2010
Friday, April 23
11:33 am
Minelli waved a tattered paperback in the air. The book was obviously an older edition, faded and ragged at the edges, a relic of Minelli's younger days with the CBI and probably not referenced much since then. He had his own way of doing things.
Though Lisbon could barely make out the words printed in bold across the simple white cover, she knew them by heart. She also knew why Minelli's face had turned that particular shade, and why she was standing in his office, unscheduled, three minutes into his usual lunch break. She just hoped she knew what she was doing.
Minelli glanced up at her and began. "Lisbon, I remember reading something in this CBI Code of Conduct Manual you love so much," he growled, slipping on his reading glasses and cradling the book in one hand. "Now, what was it again? Hmm, Let's see. Ah, yes. 37 C under Interpersonal Relations. And I quote: 'There are to be no—'"
"'—romantic involvements and/or fraternizations between members of the same unit.' I know." She sent her best piercing glare toward Minelli.
He was unimpressed. "Oh, so you know? Then why, Agent Lisbon, is there a blatant defiance of this rule within your own team? You, of all people?"
Lisbon sighed. This day had come sooner than she had wanted it to. "Boss, I have always respected and followed—"
Minelli coughed.
"—done my best to follow departmental regulations. Even with Jane, my team is the most by-the-book in this building. But—"
"Discounting, of course, the insubordination, disrespect, and indecent amount of complaints pouring in here every week."
"Jane, Jane, and Jane."
"Yes, and now for once it is not Jane. You have no scapegoat for this one. Van Pelt and Rigsby—"
"Exactly. Van Pelt and Rigsby. When have you ever had to deal with Van Pelt and Rigsby being out of line? You can trust them with this one."
The flush in Minelli's cheeks was darkening at an alarming rate."Trust? They should have come to me about this months ago!"
Lisbon grimaced. "Well, if you didn't notice it for this long, they must have been keeping it out of the office pretty efficiently. What's to say they can't—"
"I am to say they can't, Lisbon! You're grasping at straws here. Why is this so important for you of all people to be sticking your neck out, albeit in vain, for their romantic lives?"
The echoes of his outburst died down around them. A wide-eyed secretary from Interpersonal Affairs stared through the glass door before recovering herself and continuing down the hallway, clutching a cup of steaming coffee.
Minelli held Lisbon's gaze for a moment, then cleared his throat and glanced down at the stack of papers cluttering his desk before continuing. "Even if it were up to me— and it isn't, Lisbon—how do I know this won't affect their working relationship? The ability of your team to function?"
Sensing a shift in her favor, Lisbon took a step toward Minelli's desk. "If it would compromise that, I wouldn't be standing here. Our team is already close. Any group of people expected to work under the conditions we do needs that to be able to function. Would you prevent us from working together because we care? If anything, it helps us do our jobs better."
Minelli grunted. "That's beside the point. Would Rigsby, if forced to chose between Van Pelt and the good of the team, choose the team?"
"Boss, Van Pelt is part of the team. What's good for her is good for the team. I think that's an unfair question."
"Oh. You think?"
Twenty minutes later she walked out of Minelli's office, nearly running into Rigsby in her haste to escape both her boss and the raging headache he had given her.
Rigsby waved a file. "Hey, Boss. Jane told me you were talking to Minelli about…us." He looked slightly guilty, as if it were still a secret. Which she highly doubted. If Minelli knew, the whole building knew. "So, um, what'd he say?"
"Honestly, by the end of it we were both just arguing for the sake of argument."
Rigsby frowned at her.
She sighed. "Aside from saying that they shouldn't exist, the Code of Conduct doesn't have a specified procedure handling interoffice relationships. So, I think for now he's leaving it alone until something—his boss, your actions—forces him to do otherwise."
"Listen, Boss…" He ran a hand through his short hair. "I'm really sorry about all the trouble this is causing you. We really appreciate—"
Lisbon shook her head. "Don't thank me yet. Actually, don't thank me at all. It's Minelli who's really sticking his neck out there for you. You guys are on thin ice. One complaint, one bad call, and you could land in the basement with the cyber crimes nerds. And somebody could be out of a job." She eyed him significantly.
"Got it, boss. We will be careful."
"I know."
2013
Monday, May 13
5:52 am
Her eyes clouded over as he reached past her to replace the novel. "What?"
"They delayed the flight. Storm in Denver."
Cho watched as Lisbon's grip tightened around the paper cup, creases mapping her fingers as she let out a steadying breath. "How long?" she asked, the strain in her eyes evident, though he knew she was trying not to show it. Especially around Rosie. She was being strong for them, and he wished he could tell her not to. He wished he didn't depend on it.
"Hour. Maybe two. They say we should still make the connecting flight."
"Where's Jane?" She searched the crowds moving behind him, as if hoping to find Jane in the transient sea of passengers.
He couldn't remember ever thinking of her as small. He supposed she was, or at least smaller than the rest of them, but somehow it hadn't registered before. Maybe it was the fluorescent lighting of the café's blinking red sign. It cast strange shadows.
"With Rosie," he replied.
"She still sleeping?"
"Yeah. Hasn't moved."
"Good. Tell Jane I'll come get her in a minute." Lisbon turned back toward the drink counter, tossing her cup forcefully into a trashcan. "This coffee tastes like crap."
He nodded, ignoring the small sound audible over the splash of liquid against an empty plastic bin.
2010
Wednesday, June 9
4:13 pm
"You gonna drink that?"
Rigsby didn't answer.
Cho ripped a piece of paper from a notepad on the conference table, balled it up, and tossed it at the back of Rigsby's head.
"Hey!" Rigsby spun around. "What was that for?"
Cho just pointed at the Big Gulp dripping beads of condensation onto the report Rigsby was supposed to be writing. "You gonna drink that?" he repeated.
"Why?"
He returned to his own report. "Because I bought it. And if you're not going to drink it, I will."
"Fine." Rigsby took a loud, petulant sip, making sure to look back at him. "You happy?"
No, he thought, watching as Rigsby's chair turned back to its desk. It was one thing for Rigsby to be slightly unhappy at the thought of an afternoon of paperwork, but avoiding—and even refusing—the consumption of food was an entirely different subject. And while it wasn't really any of his business, he supposed he should ask.
"Everything alright with Van Pelt?"
Rigsby, who had opened a drawer of his desk, slammed it loudly and grunted an affirmative.
"Ok," he shrugged, still somewhat perturbed, but choosing to leave well enough alone.
"Hey, do you mind? I'm trying to sleep." This, of course, came from the direction of Jane's couch. Cho sighed, returning once more to his report and trying to remember the name of the victim's mother-in-law. Jane, being a consultant, did not have to do paperwork. Even though most of it was accrued because of him.
Rigsby, apparently, had the same thought and decided to call Jane's bluff. "Your eyes are open."
"So?"
Rigsby snorted. "So, you could try actually doing something useful instead of lying around on the couch and complaining."
"Rigsby, there is nothing useful to do," Jane complained, the lightness in his voice belying his groan.
Cho disagreed, though he didn't feel like arguing with Jane over the usefulness of paperwork.
Rigsby just grunted and opened the drawer again. This time Cho noticed it was his snack drawer and had to hide a smirk. Rigsby could be such a girl sometimes. Van Pelt had probably banned another one of his favorite chips, and he was mooning over them from afar.
Jane shifted on the couch, continuing with what Cho supposed was a boredom-induced hazing. "Rigsby, what would Grace say if she saw you sneaking Doritos?"
To Cho's surprise, Rigsby looked flustered. And it wasn't the 'yeah, I shouldn't have been sneaking chips again from my not-so-secret snack drawer' fluster. It was the 'I really don't want Jane to find out about this' fluster. Curious, he stood up as a grinning Jane joined him behind Rigsby's desk. Before Rigsby could protest, Jane yanked open the drawer.
It was a tiny velvet box.