This isn't one of my favorite chapters, but I feel like it had to be written. Chapter 1 was more Cho, the next (last) chapter is about Lisbon...so Chapter 2 is Rigsby and Van Pelt!

Disclaimer: Don't own The Mentalist. Just playing.

An island of calm and observation in a sea of chaos...

"How's the report coming?"

Jane watched through slitted eyelids as Agent Wayne Rigsby leaned over the back of his chair to speak to Agent Grace Van Pelt. The consultant had to fight hard to keep a smile from curling his lips upwards—the two newest additions to the CBI team were two of his favorite targets of observation. He'd never been able to resist a pair of star-crossed lovers.

The CBI Special Crimes unit had more down-time than Jane had expected when he joined. It wasn't as though they spent weeks just sitting around on their asses, but they didn't spend every living second chasing murderers and psychopaths down darkened alleys, either. Jane spent his free time (and a lot of the time when he shouldn't have been free but was avoiding work) glued to the couch. When he didn't want to be disturbed, he would often pretend to be asleep, but he had long since perfected the art of watching people through slitted eyelids. This down-time—the moments of freedom and camaraderie—were some of his favorite moments of the week. People-watching was his hobby, after all, and it was easier to people-watch when they weren't chasing murderers and psychopaths down darkened alleys (or as was more likely, rushing to his rescue after he'd wrangled a confession from a less-than-happy suspect).

Cho was reading, which was no surprise to anyone. The man spent every free moment with his nose buried in a book. The book itself frequently changed as he was a freakishly fast reader, but to Jane, it didn't matter what the agent was reading. Cho's habit of losing himself in another reality, of shutting out the real world and the people and problems in it whenever he had the chance...that was fascinating enough. Still, more out of habit than anything else, Jane noted the title as Cho turned a page. Crime and Punishment. Heavy stuff, but fitting. No star-crossed lovers, though, just religion and justice and a prostitute with a heart of gold.

The agent glanced at Rigsby and Van Pelt, and Jane thought he spotted a slight eye-roll, which didn't surprise him. Cho and Rigsby were good friends, and if the big agent had told anyone about his hopeless cross, he would have told Cho.

Van Pelt, who never seemed to have free time (although this was more because she was still trying to prove herself than because everyone foisted work off on her), flashed a quick smile at Rigsby. "Fine," she said. "Just a couple more things to fill out."

"Then you'll be done for the day?"

Van Pelt nodded, the fluorescent lighting in the ceiling playing off her copper hair and making it shimmer. She smiled at Rigsby with more than just her lips—her entire body was in on the action. The sparks between the two were palpable, and it was a wonder to Jane that something didn't catch fire from the sexual tension between them. Even from across the room, Jane could see Rigsby catch his breath, build up his confidence to ask the question that could change everything: "What are you doing tonight, then?"

But he never got his chance. The door to Lisbon's office swung open and The Boss emerged, striding out into the bull-pen, five feet and four inches of barely contained energy. Cho looked up as she walked past and muttered a little, "Hey, boss," to which she replied with a distracted wave of the hand. Jane watched her make her way around desks and chairs and stacks of files to the kitchen, where he knew that she would be making herself a cup of coffee strong enough to melt the brown ceramic mug she always used.

The instant the door had opened, Rigsby had catapulted back to his desk with speed and dexterity that was impressive in a man so large. Jane wasn't able to contain his laughter this time, though he turned it into a snort at the last minute and opened his eyes, blinking blearily as though he'd just woken up.

Cho, seeing this performance, sighed and rolled his eyes again, turning another page in the book. Van Pelt was staring at the report in her hands with unnatural concentration, while Rigsby studied the surface of his bare desk.

Star-crossed lovers, indeed.

Review, please!