Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist. (But we all like to pretend we do for a while. That's why we write fanfiction.)
"Time is free, but it's priceless.
You can't own it, but you can use it.
You can't keep it, but you can spend it.
Once you've lost it, you can never get it back. "
-Harvy MacKay
"Listen, this has been going on for long enough. I will not watch another girl die because we don't have enough evidence to convict this guy. There has to be something we are missing." Agent Theresa Lisbon said from the far end of the table in the CBI conference room. Patrick Jane sat to her right playing with the toothpick left over from his hero sandwich. Agent Van Pelt sat directly across from him, watching, fascinated by how it was moving without him touching it. Agent Rigsby sat beside her, smiling a lopsided grin as he watched her concentrate. Cho, who was sick of Jane's antics, not to mention Rigsby's lovesick daydreaming, let out a humph.
"Jane," Lisbon snapped suddenly, "You're not paying one bit of attention." Jane snapped up, clearly startled.
"I was paying attention. You want more evidence. We're missing something. People are dying in the world. Men are awful. Yada, yada, yada." He said, watching Lisbon get more angry by the second. Jane shrugged his shoulders, and Van Pelt smiled slightly.
"I was paying more attention than Rigsby." He pointed out blankly. Grace Van Pelt's smile immediately faded, and was replaced by red cheeks. Rigsby almost choked on his water. Cho sighed.
"Can we look at the location chart again, boss?" Cho asked, changing the subject. Lisbon's face downgraded from irate to slightly irritated.
"Yeah." She said, throwing a few copies of the chart into the middle of the table. Reaching for one of the charts Rigsby brushed Van Pelts hand. He instantly apologized.
"Sorry," he mumbled, "you can see it first." She smiled at him, and it reminded him again how much he loved it when she smiled.
"We can share." She replied scooting closer to him. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair. He looked longingly at Jane, who gave him an weak smile that seemed almost like he was impressed. Jane watched the two of them interact, noticing how many times Rigsby smiled while he was around her. And how many times she would catch his eye and then look away. He noticed how she was sitting, and how her body was turned towards Rigsby's. He noticed how her knee would brush his thigh as they shifted position, and how she would roll her eyes at him and smile. But also how she always looked so alert when he spoke to her, her eyes wide and bright. And how she would fix her shirt or skirt, or hair around him, but never worry about it any other time. About the time that Grace laid a hand on Rigsby's forearm to reach across him for a pencil, he grunted uncomfortably.
"Uh...Boss...we've been at this for over an hour, can we take a break?" He asked softly.
"Five minutes." Lisbon said in an extremely serious tone. Jane knew that something about this case was really bothering her, and he made a mental note to ask her later. But for now he had some questions for a certain red haired member of the CBI.
"So, did you tell Rigsby yet?" Jane asked her quietly. She looked completely taken aback and slightly embarrassed.
"Excuse me?" She asked, hoping that she had heard him wrong, but knowing that she hadn't. Jane gave her that look, the one that said I know you're lying.
"Did you tell Agent Rigsby that you're in love with him yet?" Jane asked more clearly.
"I... I am not...I'm not in love with him." She responded.
"Don't lie, Grace. You really are awful at it. How do you think I knew that you were attracted to him in the first place? Want to know how I know?"
"Oh please enlighten me." She said sarcastically, hoping that he wouldn't enlighten her.
"Okay," he said, acting smart, "You turn towards him constantly, which may be involuntary. It doesn't really make a difference. You straighten your shirt, or fix your collar, or play with your hair. That's a sure sign of interest. You hardly ever cross your legs around him, and if you do ,your toe is always pointed toward him. It's kind of like pointing toward what you want. You glance sideways at him if you walk away first, to see if he's looking. As if he's not looking, he's always looking." He paused there to let her speak. She'd been trying to throw words in since he started.
"Okay , so my hair is irritating sometimes, and I only cross my legs if I'm wearing a skirt..." Jane cut her off there.
"You do wear skirts pretty often when you know you're working with him." He interjected.
"I like skirts. They're comfortable yet dressy."
"Yeah okay, let me finish." He started again. She rolled her eyes at him.
"You play with shoes. You slip them on and off and whatnot."
"Mr. Jane, obviously you have never worn heels." She retorted.
"I have no need to, I'm not trying to seduce Agent Rigsby." He said grinning. Grace glared at him. He was beginning to cross the line.
"Oh come on! You have no need to wear heels, you're tall enough. You could wear flats but you know Rigsby likes heels. Every guy likes heels more, they're seductive. You chew on your bottom lip..."
"Nervous habit." She snuck in.
"Exactly. You get nervous around him. You tend to play with your bottle of water or anything else...cylindrical, and you can figure that one out on your own." She blushed after the statement hit home.
"You smile every time he talks to you, or looks at you. And then you look down, reflecting on it. It's all key. Oh, and you keep your hands palm up, that has to do with being open."
"You know what Mr. Jane, my personal life is really none of your business." She said almost giving in to the argument.
"I know, I know there are rules and you like your job...and whatever other excuse you come up with. And I don't know how bad high heels hurt, but I do know about time. You NEVER have enough time. Even if you think you have enough time, you don't. You two have high risk jobs. Plus, if he keeps diving into flaming buildings, or beating up psychopaths in the mens room, you're not going to have him long. So why not take "try to impress Grace" off of his list of reasons to do dangerous things. Oh, and take "try to make Rigsby jealous by dating deranged lunatics" off of yours."
"Lisbon would never allow--" He cut her off.
"That's the thing though, Grace, if it is supposed to happen, things will fall into place eventually. I may not believe in God, but I believe in fate. That's how I know we will eventually catch Red John."
"If I was in love with him–which I'm not, what would you advise me to do? Preferably something that's not going to get me fired." She asked.
"Did you ever thank him for the whole Dan thing? Or did you reassure him that you weren't mad at him for the hypnotized fiasco?"
"No. I didn't. I didn't want to end up..." She started, but was interrupted by Jane mid sentence.
"You didn't want to end up admitting anything. Like the fact that you care about him more than you put on...WAY more than you put on." Jane said smiling.
"I know he would rather me not bring it up." She replied truthfully. Jane slumped a bit looking at her knowingly.
"I know he would rather you not bring it up either, but you need to. Probably because it is eating you up inside. You go over those scenes in your head over and over. The one where he kissed you, or where you were so glad he was safe. Dan could have killed him, you know."
"Yes I know! How could I not know?" She replied getting upset. Jane put a hand on her shoulder and then turned to leave.
"It's up to you, Grace." He said and walked away.
Grace sat back down at the conference room table. Lisbon, Cho, and Jane were already going through the brown evidence box. She wondered where Rigsby was; he knew he had to be back in five minutes. She needed coffee. She had been out at the house this morning, and now she was starting to get a headache. It couldn't possibly be because of what had Jane said. She put her head in her hands and pretended to go over the accident report.
"I said five minutes Agent Rigsby!" Lisbon chirped from the end of the table. Normally she wouldn't have cared about a minute and a half difference, but she was already irritated.
"Sorry boss." He said, embarrassed that the whole group was looking at him eyebrows raised. Rigsby slid a cup of coffee across the table at Van Pelt who could have kissed him right there. Had he really been late because he ran to get her coffee? How did he know she needed coffee? She never mentioned it. She looked up at him quizzically.
"You looked like you had a headache. Nine times out of ten, if you have a headache it's either because Jane is particularly annoying today, or you need coffee. Jane's been fairly well behaved today, don't you think?" He whispered. She wondered exactly how much time he'd been spending with Jane.
"Can you stay late today?" She asked him. There was a hint of quiver in her voice. For once she didn't back out, but she didn't offer him a reason either. He looked at her, surprised by her sudden forwardness.
Okay so here's chapter 1. What did you think? I do have the next three chapters written, but I am still working on editing them. I would love for you review, but in reality, I don't get to review to everything I would like to, just due to the time factor. I hardly have time to read everything I want, let alone review to it all. But if you do have time, I would appreciate feedback. Since it is just nice fluff you never know what might show up if you suggest it. We don't have a lot of Rigsby/Van Pelt fanfics, so if there's something you would like to see, mention it.