Red Rapide

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Grace Van Pelt hurries into the bullpen.

"I'm sorry I'm late, my car wouldn't start, so I had to..."

Nobody is listening. With her car out of action, Grace has been forced to use her alternative transport. Her father's lovingly restored Vincent Rapide. Which means that Grace Van Pelt, usually so formally dressed and professional, has just hurried into the room in a full set of red and black biking leathers.

Lisbon draws her chin in, clearly startled. Cho's eyes have gone perfectly round. And Rigsby's second-breakfast sandwich drops out of his hand, unnoticed.

Jane opens one eye. Opens both eyes fast, and sits up. That's...unexpected. He looks over at Rigsby and grins. The man has gone to a Special Place somewhere.

"I'll be back in five minutes. But I have to get out of this outfit. It's too hot."

That's sort of what Rigsby is thinking. Only not quite in the same way. Or even as coherently. Cho clears his throat, grateful that blushing doesn't show, goes back to his report. Jane shakes his head. Honestly, poor fools. Van Pelt has a nice figure, truly, but what is so enthralling about that particular outfit? It's perfectly practical.

"I used to have a pair of leather jeans." Lisbon muses.

And the small part of Jane's mind not concerned with vengeance dribbles excitedly.

Oh. Right.