Jane gets up and leaves the table and Wayne Rigsby follows him with his eyes until his figure dissapears among the crowd and sighs with relief.
It doesn't take a genius to know that Jane will say and do whatever the boss needs him to, so he drinks from his glass and gets back to the conversation on the table, finally being able to pay proper attention to Van Pelt.
"Do you think there's something between those two?" she smiles widely and Rigsby doesn't really know what to do with it.
"Jane and the boss?"
Van Pelt smiles with a mischievous grin "Sure. He's nice to her."
"Jane is nice to everybody!"
He can't even believe he's having this conversation at all; it makes him feel uncomfortable and out of place. Grace doesn't answer immediately and he thinks that maybe she gets it too, that you don't talk about the boss' sentimental life, that it's like talking about the sexual life of your parents, just not done.
"Yes, well, she is nice to him," she points a finger at him and he rolls his eyes, defeated, "and don't say she is nice to everybody too, because that's just not true."
"She's nice to him because he helps us solve cases," Rigsby takes a long swallow of his drink before speaking again suspecting he is far too sober for this. "Besides… it's Jane!"
Somewhere between "weird" and "mysterious" Grace says "attractive" and Wayne confirms that he is way too lost and way too sober for wherever this conversation is going.
He observes Van Pelt's features, tries to know if maybe she is just pulling his leg. He stares at her while Cho leaves and she says goodbye, till the blue of her eyes and the red glossy texture of her lips is all he can see and he doesn't know anything for sure anymore.
"Patrick Jane is attractive?" his voice sounds embarrassingly strangled.
"Tall, blonde, blue eyes, well built… yes, I would say he is attractive"
Wayne doesn't get it. Not by a long shot.
He doesn't understand why any normal woman who knows him would think Patrick Jane is attractive instead of plainly weird or even a little bit creepy. The man wears vests for god sake! This, at the very least, should illustrate his point of view fairly well. "But he wears vests!" she just looks at him with that little drunk smile and he feels the need to lower his voice as if talking to himself to wonder "who the hell wears vests?"
She keeps smiling at him, calm and sweet, and he can't help noticing the uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach so he takes another sip from his drink.
"I really can't believe you're telling me that you find Jane attractive." He can but he won't, he doesn't want to. He sounds needy and silly but he doesn't seem to care; she leans forward a little and Rigsby can smell this sweet mix of perfume, alcohol and her and he doesn't care for anything else.
"I didn't say that," she lowers her voice and he finds it difficult to swallow, "I said he was attractive." She wets her lips with her tongue and he also finds it difficult to breathe. "Objectively speaking."
He smiles.
"Besides we aren't talking about me. We're talking about the boss."
"I see." But he doesn't, not really.
"Jane is an attractive guy and she is nice to him and since he is just a consultant they wouldn't break any Bureau rule."
And then it hits him. Rules. Breaking rules. He may not be a fucking weird genius or wear vests but he can put two and two together. "Oh, I see," and puts his arm on the back of her chair. "Rules."
Grace Van Pelt, the youngest newest agent of the team who wouldn't dream of doing anything that could jeopardise her short career, of breaking any bureau rule, even if it's a little stupid rule as, let's say, being involved with a co-worker, as in kissing a fellow agent.
So he gets nearer, so near that he is sure she has to feel his quick heartbeats. If she can't find her way to break the rules that's fine, he will find it for her.
"What are you doing?" She whispers and her breath caresses the skin of his face.
He doesn't answer, not immediately. He stares at her eyes and at her lips. And his fingers find her hair and start stroking her red locks.
"Nothing," he says then, "just a little of what Jane does second best" he leans into her slowly, taking pleasure in every second that passes and every inch that gets them closer, "breaking the rules a little."
He gives her a chaste kiss at first. Just his lips on hers just the feeling of being this near and then, it's just not enough. He wants to run his tongue over her lips, to bite them lightly and suck on them till they are swollen and redder, till she's breathless and flustered.
So he does. He does it and she kisses him back, she runs her tongue along his and entangles her delicate fingers in his hair and his heart skips a beat when he feels rather than hears a little moan.
It takes more strength than he knew he had to part form her, part form this, but after two failed attempts he finally does.
She looks at him like she doesn't understand, bright and gorgeous and he can't breathe, he literally can't breathe.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing!" he says quickly, "nothing is wrong," except that she is more than a little drunk and maybe he is too, and they had an horrible week, and they are at this suddenly not so appropriate place and he wants to be with her more than anything, but not like this.
He can't afford her regretting it in the morning. He couldn't stand it so he gets up and tents his hand.
"Let's take a walk"
If she's going to risk breaking the rules with him he wants her to be sober and convinced; and he can be a very patience man.
She looks at him for some dramatic long seconds before smiling and taking his hand.
It's not all that he wants. But for now it's enough.