Warner Bros. Television and Bruno Heller own all characters and The Mentalist. I just own my sick, twisted imagination.
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As the silence continued, Grace deep in thought, Rigsby waited. His stomach had been rumbling for a while, but he was quiet. Sometimes, his bullish work methods and innocent manner had his colleagues convinced he was a little slow on the uptake, but Rigsby knew from bitter experience that if pushed, his partner would be quick to run.
Here of course, the running would be figurative rather than literal, but it would have similar consequences.
She wriggled slightly, trying to adjust her position on the floor. Cramp was not conducive to accurate judgement of her feelings. Did she just say feelings? Grace pulled herself up, mentally hiding behind her professional façade. The movement caused Rigsby's shirt to ride up too, and a small sliver of skin revealed between her pants and fitted shirt brushed against his naked back. She shivered and he held his breath, each hoping not to alarm the other.
"Wayne?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry, I should have stopped it before it happened. I knew what you were going to do."
"And you didn't?"
A pause.
"It would have been more embarrassing for you had I not and we had fought over it," she rushed.
The realisation that she had put his feelings above hers came to them both simultaneously, and Wayne laid his fingers over hers, still captured in the cruel handcuffs.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, digesting this new development.
Grace relaxed against him, exhaling deeply as she came to terms with the fact that she, Grace Van Pelt, might have genuine feelings for the mountain of a man behind her. Feelings, she supposed, that went further than "that big hunk of testosterone looks great in tight pants and would probably impress in the bedroom."
She longed to turn and press her cheek into his broad chest, breathe in his comfortable scent and cuddle into his large arms, but their positions were not going to allow that. Her mind was brought back abruptly from pleasant thoughts to the situation they were in.
Rigsby was happy for the moment to be allowed this time alone, away from the eyes and ears of their team mates, and forgot where he was as he allowed himself to dream once again of holding her against him. Of course, he mused, hopefully there would be a situation soon when they weren't handcuffed back to back.
His thoughts were interrupted by a rattling at the door, and Grace turned her hand to grip his.
The shadow outside turned into Cho as he entered the barn, and the two agents on the floor called to him, relieved at being found.
Their relief however soon turned to confusion and fear as the normally stoic man walked towards them, gun in hand and pointed, alternating between each of their heads. He was nervous, glancing around and shaking slightly, eyes wide.