"Rigsby."
"Yeah, boss. What's up?"
"Can you come to my office for a few minutes? There's somebody I'd like you to meet."
"Now? Soon as I get this report done, Cho an' I were headed to lunch..."
"Indulge me. I don't think it'll take long."
He hesitated, then sighed quietly and pushed away from his desk.
"Sure, I guess I could use a break. Not like paperwork's my favorite thing, anyway." He conceded, rising and following her through the maze of desks. Just before they entered the small space, she paused, gazing at him curiously. "What's that about?"
"Just a question... save me looking it up in your file. You do have a middle name, right?"
"Yeah."
"Steven?"
"If you knew, why'd you ask?"
"You'll see. C'mon in. Wayne Rigsby, this is John Smith. No jokes, no comments, okay? That really is his name." She said as she closed the door.
Johnny carefully studied the newcomer, then switched his gaze to Lisbon.
"Wayne?"
"Wayne Steven. I just confirmed it."
"This just gets more and more interesting..."
"Not the word I'd use." Lisbon murmured as she claimed the seat behind her desk. Johnny dropped into one of the two visitor's chairs, but Rigsby stayed on his feet, frowning in confusion.
"Obviously I'm out of a loop I should be in. Somebody wanna explain what's going on?"
"There's something I have to ask of you first. I know you trust me..."
"With my life, boss."
"Then let Mr. Smith do what he needs to, alright?"
"But..."
"Q and A comes later. Sit?"
Grudgingly, Rigsby lowered himself into the chair across from Johnny and shifted to face him. The blond initially reached out for the agent's hand, but changed his mind at the last minute and curled his fingers around the left side of Rigsby's face. Abruptly, Smith's head flew back and anguish flooded his expression, though he remained silent this time. For several minutes, he appeared to be fighting against what he was seeing, struggling to alter it or send it away, but eventually he stilled, only his eyes moving under the lids in what looked like REM sleep. A moment or two later, he gently pulled away and lowered his head, massaging his neck lightly. Wide-eyed, Rigsby stared at Johnny then looked to his boss, chuckled uncertainly and offered a half smile.
"Uh... studying to replace Jane in the fake psychic racket, is he?"
"No. I believe he could be the real thing."
"Right. He's not bad, boss, but I'm no rube sittin' in a tent at a carnival. I've seen the tapes of Jane doing his thing an' he was a lot better. At least he talked."
Johnny smirked and looked up.
"So do I. Problem is you may not like what I have to say. Matter of fact... I'm pretty sure you'll hate it."
"You'll be lucky if I even half believe it, but go ahead anyway."
Smith drew and released a deep breath and turned his gaze down once again.
"What I saw... it's about your family. Specifically, your parents. I don't know if you ever told anyone what happened..."
Rigsby stiffened suddenly and sat back in his chair. His furrowed brow and traces of anger on his face prompted Lisbon to interject calming words.
"Easy. Take it easy. That's why I chose to do this in private. I can even step out if you want me to. Just say the word."
"Nah... you stay. I'm outta here." he growled, pushing quickly up to his feet.
"Rigsby..."
"He's a lying bastard, boss. I don't have to listen to his crap."
"Rigsby." She repeated, much more firmly. His mouth tightened, but he went still. "Thank you. Now, sit back down."
"Boss..."
"Give me a few more minutes. Please?"
Rigsby looked at the floor and shook his head, but eventually he complied. "Alright. Now, do you want me to leave before he continues?"
"I'm sorry, but... yeah. Please."
"No problem." Lisbon soothed, rising to her feet. "If you feel like you can tell me later, you will. No killing our guest while I'm gone, okay?"
"I'll try really hard."
"Good. Try not to upset him too much more, Mr. Smith. He is a trained law enforcement officer, after all. Plus I'd guess he outweighs you by thirty pounds."
"Nah. He's in better shape than that. Fifteen, maybe." Smith flattered, only half jokingly. His opponent didn't relax much, but even the minute lessening of tension Johnny felt relieved his own stress somewhat. Lisbon grinned, recognizing the attempt for what it was, and stepped out, shutting the door. When he spoke up again, Smith began studying the office, knowing eye contact at that point would only make things worse.
"I don't blame you for never telling anyone, you know? Something like that... you shove it way down... keep it in some tiny little room inside where it can't hurt anymore or screw with your life."
"What the hell do you know about it?" Rigsby asked in dark, quiet tones, sitting forward menacingly. To his credit, Johnny didn't give an inch.
"Only what I saw. I know she tried to protect you... locked you in and buried the key deep in the garden, thinking he'd never go after it there. He hated getting his hands dirty... touching bugs, worms. In spite of what you may have always believed, it wasn't her fault the plan didn't work... and neither was what happened afterwards."
"You son of a..." Rigsby intoned ominously, but his body language belied his tone. Instead of standing or attacking, he collapsed back into the chair. Instead of growing redder with increased fury, his face paled.
"I agree with you. For bringing this up and forcing you to remember, I am an SOB, but I'll take on that title any day of the week if I can prevent another child from suffering the way you did."
"What? What are you saying? He's dead..."
"No. Not if my vision is accurate. If I'm right he's alive and he's doing it again... and there were others between then and now."
Now Rigsby shot to his feet again, shaking legs barely supporting him.
"Uh-uh... it's wrong, *you're* wrong."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I just am!"
"Maybe sometimes I misinterpret what I see, but it's never completely off-base. I can tell you're in real pain..."
"You know nothing! I was there, damn you! I saw! He's dead, you bastard... and I suggest you leave this building fast, before you end up the same way."
Johnny slowly stood, not wanting to provoke the other man any further, but unwilling to give up on this particular set of visions. Despite trying hard to temper his emotions and remain calm, some of his own frustration leaked out when he spoke.
"I get it, I do. You're pissed, you're hurt and you have every right to be... but this isn't just about you anymore, okay? Believe in my abilities or not, I really don't care ... but believe that I need your help. You're the only one who has the information that could prevent another murder."
"I said... get out."
"Right... fine. When the next kid is left an orphan, I'll send him here... let you explain that he's alone in the world 'cause *you* refused to do anything to stop it from happening." Johnny spat as he brushed past Rigsby and stalked out of the office. Moments later, the larger man sank back into his chair and covered his face with his hands, struggling to breathe normally.
TBC...
