I'm sorry, folks, that it took me so long to update. My muse did strange things to my imagination and then real life decided I was needed there for once.
Again, big thanks go to wldwmn for being a tireless beta reader and for bouncing ideas for this chapter.
Also, I have to thank aekz for pestering me to write this damn chapter. Her messages showed me that some people out there actually care for this story. I won't keep you waiting this long for the next update, I promise.
When she exited the ladies' room, van Pelt spotted the group at once. On arriving here, she'd been too shaken to notice anything but her fluttering heart. It had taken a few minutes in a stall, some cold water splashed on her flushing cheeks and a few calming breaths that didn't carry Rigsby's intoxicating scent to get a grip, but now that she was as good as new, she realized she should have seen those people immediately.
They gathered around a table stacked with info material, brochures, buttons and flyers. A huge poster was plastered to the wall next to them, showing the mutilated body of a piglet, slaughtered and torn. The broken corpse was displayed on the counter of a fast-food restaurant, the words 'Do you want fries with this?' printed across the picture in bloody letters. The group standing beneath the poster comprised two men and five women, dressed in organic cotton, the women in long skirts or loose pants, the men in khakis, not a stitch of plastic material or leather on their bodies. None of them seemed to care that their provocative poster might frighten the many children around. There was no doubt: van Pelt had found the hardliner animal rights activists.
Without thinking, she approached the group, feigning interest in the display of shocking brochures on the table although she remembered most of them from her brush with the hardliners in college. They hadn't changed that much. If anything, the accusing photographs of tortured animals had become even more glossy and thus appalling over the years.
As she leafed through a pamphlet about the meat industry, a disgusted look on her face, a man approached her.
"When you look at these figures you can't help but realize that eating at McDonald's is, indeed, murder. With every cheese burger you eat you're responsible for the ruthless torturing and slaughtering of cattle.", he told her.
She looked up at him, his lanky form and the grey eyes under his brownish curls shockingly familiar. The man stared at her intently, frowning.
"Do I know you?", he asked.
"I don't think so." The lie came out easily, spoken with the best poker face she could muster, the one Rigsby always fell for and Jane usually saw through in the blink of an eye. Still frowning, the man looked her over once more.
"You sure look familiar.", he insisted. van Pelt saw the moment recognition dawned.
"Grace... Is that you?"
No use in denying it. Keith Bradshaw, the dreaded ghost from her wilder college years, had turned flesh right in front of her, and he obviously hadn't forgotten.
Numbly, she nodded, her face screwed up in fake confusion.
"Come on, Grace. Don't tell me you don't remember. It's Keith, Keith Bradshaw. We met when you were in college."
Still shell-shocked, she let recognition register on her face after another minute.
"Keith. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you, it's been so long."
"True, but I recognized you the minute I saw you. Really, you haven't changed at all."
You have no idea, van Pelt thought wryly, frantically searching her memory for anything useful. Had Keith known her last name when they knew each other in college? Or had he just known her as 'Grace', like most of her peers had at that time? She couldn't remember, but she had to hope. If he knew her last name, her cover was in grave danger.
"So, Grace, tell me, what have you been doing? I'm surprised to see you at a place like this, after all, you've turned your back on animal welfare."
She could hear the accusation in his tone, mixed with a slight curiosity, and instantly rose to his challenge.
"I didn't turn my back on animal welfare.", she snapped. "I just didn't feel the cause justified every possible action, especially when people got hurt."
"It's okay", Keith gave in. "You were too young to see the whole picture, but I'm glad you've returned. You might see our work in a different light, now that you've grown up. So tell me, what have you been up to?"
van Pelt swallowed an angry remark, knowing she had to make the man believe she was less appalled by his methods now than she had been after the research facility fiasco. Slipping into her cover story with ease, she told Keith about her job, meeting Wayne and moving to L.A. with him to start a family, finishing with how she couldn't live without animals.
"So right after settling, I dragged poor Wayne over to Trish Wallace's place. And here we are.", she concluded. "How about you?"
Keith shrugged. "I've been doing the same all along, organizing animal liberation activities. Six months ago I came to California to found a cell here. This state is pretty backward when it comes to protecting the earth. What about your friend, Wayne? Is he one of us?"
"He loves animals and he sees that protecting our planet makes a lot of sense. Speaking of Wayne, I guess I should be getting back or he might wonder where I am. Why don't you come along? I'd like you to meet him."
To her enormous relief, Keith agreed. She wasn't sure how long she'd be able to handle him on her own without showing her disdain in his ideals. With Rigsby at her side, it was going to be much easier.
Keith called out to his group: "Guys? Can you hold up without me for a while? I'll be off with my old friend Grace..." He hesitated.
"I never knew your last name, I'm afraid."
"Carpenter.", she assisted, a wave of relief washing through her.
"Grace Carpenter...", he repeated. "We have some catching up to do, but I'll be back soon."
His friends nodded, waved at Grace half-heartedly or murmured something unintelligible when the two of them left the scene.
"Isn't Grace back yet?", Rigsby asked Pete who had stoically warmed their places. "Nope, but she can't be too long... Oh, speak of the devil. Here she is. Looks like she found company, too."
Rigsby looked in the direction Pete was pointing, only to see his Grace waving her way through the ever-growing crowd, a dark, lanky man in tow, talking agitatedly to her. As Wayne still wondered who the stranger might be, Grace had already stepped up to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her soft lips against his cheek, whispering "Person of interest" into his ear. He nodded against her lips, then pecked her cheek in return before turning to Keith.
"Good to have you back, babe.", he told her gently, displaying his affection by pulling her briefly to his side.
"Who's your friend?"
"Wayne, this is Keith, an old friend from college. Turns out he and his group have an info stall over there." She pointed in the direction they had come from, then addressed Keith: "Keith, this is Wayne, the man in my life." She emphasized the last part, as to make it clear to Keith that she was a taken woman.
Rigsby froze at the mention of the man's name. Keith... Could this be the ominous animal liberationist who'd shaken her belief in animal welfare all those years ago? As he shook the man's hand firmly (perhaps a little too firmly), Rigsby scanned van Pelt's face for obvious signs of discomfort, but found none. Just her hazel eyes, usually sparkling and alive with energy, were a little dull and her mouth was tense. Pride welled up inside him, mixed with a surge of protectiveness. She was quite the actress, his Grace, though he saw through her facade, if only because he always watched her so closely, and knew her expressions by heart. Taking her hand to reassure her, he started a conversation with Keith, finding his beliefs ridiculous to say the least. That guy really was a nutcase, Rigsby mused, as he listened to the man going on and on about how animals should be treated as equals and that killing an animal should result in severe punishment. van Pelt had been right, this man was definitely a person of interest for their case. Even if he probably wasn't the one they were looking for, his extreme point of view might have brought him into contact with the true killer.
After another half hour of talking to Keith, the man finally excused himself, announcing he had to go back to his people to help man the stall.
"That's fine.", Grace assured him. "I'm going to see if Trish needs any help. It was nice to meet you again, Keith. In fact, I'd really like to catch up with you some more. Do you want to grab coffee some time when we're not quite so busy?" The way she smiled at the guy made Wayne cringe. It was like she wanted to get Keith's hopes up. Even if he knew she was doing it to lure the animal liberationist into meeting her again and giving away info about his peers, Rigsby didn't want her to fall back on her charms to get the job done. He didn't say anything, though, just stood by and watched the two of them exchange mobile numbers, then shook Keith's hand as the man walked away. Her smile still a little shaky, van Pelt turned back to her partner with a question clearly written on her features. Did I do it right?
He drew her close, so they were shielded from Pete's prying eyes, and whispered in her ear: "You did fantastic, sweetheart. If he doesn't call you by tomorrow, he's an idiot."
She pulled back, beaming with pride. It touched him how much tough, confident Grace van Pelt depended on his praise. Well, technically he WAS the senior agent on this assignment, though he suspected praise from Lisbon would mean even more to her. We all take what we can get, he mused, reveling in the feel of her in his arms for a moment longer, before letting her go.
"I guess I really should head over to Trish so she can have a break.", she told him.
"You're right. It's almost three and she might want to catch her breath.", Rigsby agreed, but held her back before she could disappear. "Oh, I forgot, I got you a little something when you were catching up with your old friend.", he announced.
Puzzled, she looked up at him. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a wide grin split Pete's cheeks and wondered what exactly Rigsby was up to. The man in question had reached into his pocket and taken out a small object which he hid in his closed hand. Before her confused brain could come up with any kind of answer, Rigsby took her hand in his, tugging her closer.
"Grace", he began softly, his blue eyes flitting to hers for only an instant, then darting away shyly. His display of insecurity made her breath catch, for in this moment she knew that whatever was coming next, he wasn't acting. Without realizing he'd given himself away, Rigsby continued.
"You know how much you mean to me. At least I hope you do. I'm glad beyond words that I get to have you in my life, and I... I just want to thank you for having me around."
Stumbling over the words, he dropped something small and smooth into her palm, then withdrew his own hand quickly. Dumbfounded, she stared at the tiny object he'd just given her. It took a moment to register that it was a ring, a plain silver band with turquoise ornaments embroided into the surface. She held it closer to her face and realized they were footprints. Wolves' footprints, to be more precise, that made their way in a circle all around the ring's smooth surface. van Pelt stared at her partner's gift in awe. It fit their cover story perfectly, but she knew instinctively that there was far more behind it. Realizing that Rigsby looked anywhere but at her, holding his breath, she tried to get a hold on her own rampaging emotions and end his misery. She swallowed the lump in her throat, then stepped forward so Rigsby had to meet her eyes or crane his neck to avoid her gaze. She tried to tell him with her eyes that there was no need to be nervous, but got a feeling he didn't quite get the message.
"Thank you.", she whispered, throwing her arms around his solid frame and hugging him as close as she could. "Wayne, this is beautiful. Thank you so much."
Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that Pete was probably still watching their exchange, so she did what any girlfriend who'd just received a gift as precious as this would do: she pressed her lips to his in a brief, but intense, kiss. Although she pulled back at once, hugging Rigsby some more to hide her flaming cheeks, she instantly wished she hadn't done it. As brief as the contact had been, it had caused the butterflies in her stomach to rise at once, and she had the distinct feeling she had gotten Rigsby's hopes up, something that she had hoped to avoid for his own sake.
Pulling out of his embrace, she looked at him and was met with the most dumbstruck expression she'd ever seen him wear – which said a lot considering their daily work with Patrick Jane. She gave the poor man a reassuring smile before she turned her eyes back to the ring. She tried it on. It fit perfectly. Holding out her left hand to admire the silver band, she beamed at Rigsby.
"Thank you, Wayne. It's perfect."
van Pelt saw relief in his blue eyes as he gave her a crooked smile.
"I'm glad you like it.", he said warmly before reluctantly reminding her that she was expected at the stall by Trish. She nodded, torn between wanting to enjoy this moment for a little longer and running from an awkward situation. When she asked him to join her, Rigsby shook his head.
"I'll walk you there, but since probably no one wants to see me represent the shelter and since you know so much better what to say, I'll pass. I'm gonna take a walk around, maybe get some non-organic food."
Scolding, she smacked his shoulder and took off after waving Pete goodbye. Rigsby shot the man an apologetic look. "I'd better not keep my lady waiting.", he said, and Pete grinned.
"It's sad, man. All the cookie points you earned with that ring, and then you blow it all to hell with one stupid comment. You should learn when to keep your big mouth shut."
Rigsby knew fully well that van Pelt didn't hold his craving for junk food against him, at least not seriously, so he was fairly relaxed when he followed her, happy that she hadn't taken offense in his little present.
It turned out that Trish desperately needed a break, so she just installed Grace and Lynn behind the counter and took off, all the way sputtering last minute instructions. Since there were quite a few people swarming the stall, Wayne and Annabelle, whom Lynn had carelessly abandoned, got in the way no matter what they did. Wayne, despite his usual unease around youngsters, suggested a tactical retreat.
"How 'bout I buy you ice cream?", he offered, and to his surprise Annabelle didn't roll her eyes or smack her gum or whatever he might have expected from anyone under the age of 21, but nodded gratefully. They took off without announcing their departure, for their women were far too busy to notice.
Ten minutes later they were sitting in an ice cream parlour, each of them with a huge sundae in front of them.
Another ten minutes later Rigsby had realized that Annabelle was quite easy to talk to, and once she'd overcome her initial shyness, she was actually quite funny, though her dry, biting sense of humour might not go down well with everybody.
When Annabelle and Rigsby came back about two hours later, the crowd had subsided. Lynn leaped out of the stall, hugging her girlfriend, and playfully scolded Rigsby. "Wayne, you can't just take my girl on a date and leave your own woman to the vultures."
Rigsby, who'd just smiled 'hi' to van Pelt, gave the younger woman a curious look. "What do you mean, leave her to the vultures?"
van Pelt piped in. "It's nothing. Just a guy hitting on me.", she explained.
"Just hitting on you, my ass!", Lynn exclaimed. "He practically screwed you with his eyes from the moment he saw you. And he didn't get lost even after she told him she was taken.", she told Rigsby, who seemed unimpressed. This often happened to his beautiful partner, and as long as she didn't encourage the men's antics, he usually didn't worry too much. Now was a different matter, though. He was posing as her boyfriend, so he was supposed to be jealous, wasn't he? Since this could very well be the only time he'd ever do that and get away with it, he might as well go all the way.
Just then Lynn bounced on her heels, nudging him to get his attention.
"Look, here he comes again. Oooops, looks like he's going for kill this time."
The girl pointed towards a middle-aged man with blond, straight hair who was brandishing a potted sunflower like a shield and was making his way towards them, a hopeful smile on his face.
"Wanna set him straight, Wayne?", Lynn teased, while Annabelle just rolled her eyes, obviously not half as excited as her girlfriend at the prospect of a brawl. van Pelt cringed and hid her face in her hands in a gesture that practically screamed 'someone help me!' at him. It was pretty obvious she'd had it with the guy.
"Looks like he needs some serious straightening out.", Rigsby grumbled. "Maybe I should punch him."
To his surprise, van Pelt stepped up close to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him.
"Or", she said, smiling sweetly, "you could kiss me to get your point across." She wasn't even sure why she said that, it had just slipped out. Obviously, Rigsby was just as taken aback as she was, for his eyes widened in shock, silently asking if she was sure. She nodded, and he lowered his face to hers.
"We're gonna talk about this.", he whispered so close to her mouth that she could almost feel his lips move against hers.
"Promise.", she replied just as quietly before closing her eyes to savour the sensation of their first 'real' kiss. The spontaneous peck as she thanked him for the ring didn't really count in her book. Before she could think any more, Wayne had lowered his lips to hers. They were surprisingly soft, she noted. He moved them against hers gently, deliberately, caressing her upper and bottom lip in turn but never deepening the kiss. Always the gentleman, my Rigsby, she thought before giving in to impulse and kissing him back.
They stayed like that for another moment, kissing tenderly, when she felt Wayne smile against her mouth. He drew back slightly, clearly overwhelmed by what had just transpired between them. Grace was glad she wasn't the only one shaken, or she would have felt stupid. She needn't have worried, she suddenly realized. Not with Rigsby who adored her so much it wasn't even funny.
Still holding her close, he bent down to whisper in her ear. "I think he got the message. Left just after picking his shattered heart off the floor."
Looking up to meet his eyes, Grace stated dryly: "Well, he should have listened when I told him I was a taken woman."
"You're cruel.", Wayne accused, stifling a laugh. Somehow she had just managed to move them past what could have become an awkward moment.
"Only if I have to be.", she replied, taking a step backwards before turning and taking his hand.
"Come on. Trish said I'm off, and I want to get some real food.", she told him.
"A woman of my heart.", he murmured, then laced his fingers through hers and followed her gladly.
The rain that had been lurking in the grey clouds all day came a few minutes before the pair reached their car. It didn't start slowly, there were no soft drops warning people of things to come, the sky just opened and unceremoniously dumped a month's worth of water on the land and everyone who was careless enough to be outside. Within seconds, van Pelt and Rigsby were soaked to the bones, their clothes clinging to their skin. van Pelt's long hair was plastered to her face, but she didn't seem to mind. If fact, when they did reach their car and Rigsby couldn't find the keys in his dripping pocket, she put her head back and grinned at the pouring rain, water streaming down her cheeks and flowing into her mouth as she laughed. Puzzled, Rigsby stopped digging around in his pockets and looked at her quizzically.
"What?", she demanded, still grinning from ear to ear.
"You find that funny?", he asked.
"Don't you? We've just made progress in our case, and we've managed to pull off the 'in love-act' a whole day in front of a bunch of people. Everything went perfect today, and then, when nothing can seriously go wrong any more, the weather decides to have the last word, and you have to pick this of all times to lose the keys ."
If you looked at it that way, the situation was really quite funny, he supposed.
"We're lucky fate didn't decide to set us straight before, huh?", Rigsby deadpanned, finally producing the keys from a pocket at his leg.
"Hmpf! Should've known cargo pants are too smart for me."
Still smiling, van Pelt grabbed the elusive keys from him, squeezing his hand in the process.
"Don't sell yourself short. I bet you'll be able to tell every one of these pockets apart if I filled them with snacks. By the way, I'm driving. That way we'll get home much faster."
He knew it was true, so he didn't protest, just sat back in his seat and munched on the leftover carrot sticks he'd retrieved from her bag.
For a while, they rode in silence, the air from the vents slowly drying their hair. Casting a glance at his partner, Rigsby saw that her hair had begun to curl in the hot air stream. She looked much softer than usual, and he wished he'd see that look on her more often.
"Can I ask you a personal question?", he said softly, causing her to frown.
"Go ahead. I doubt we'll get more personal than we already have without actual intercourse."
He blushed and almost choked on his words. Busted again!
"Just so you know, that wasn't what I was getting at. I wonder why you strainghten your hair every day. It must take hours, and I don't see the point when you look so nice with your natural curls."
Now it was her turn to blush. "You know, it's probably silly. I feel like I have to prove myself on the job every day, and as it seems, the curly look makes me look too... soft when all I really want is to be regarded for my abilities as a CBI agent, not my looks. It's hard sometimes, being a woman on the job. I guess I just want to look more tough than I really am so people take me seriously."
He understood. When she first walked into his life, he had seen her natural beauty radiate from her every pore. He hadn't known her then but had felt drawn to her like a moth to the flame. Only when he'd gotten to know her better had he realized how capable she was, what she added to the team. It made sense that she would want to hide her beauty for professionalism's sake. Still, in his eyes, that didn't work.
"I see. But I must inform you that it's no use hiding those pretty curls of yours to look like the tough and mean cop you want to present. It's not working anyway."
When he saw the hurt look on her face he hastily added: "You know, compared to Lisbon we ALL look like a butch of softies."
That made her crack up, and she smacked his arm. "Nice save, mister. You're lucky we're home or else I might have decided to make you walk the rest of the way."
With that, she parked the car, grabbed her bag and hurried towards their apartment building, leaving her partner and his bruised arm behind.
When Rigsby entered their apartment, van Pelt was already in the process of undressing, leaving a trail of wet clothes behind that ended at the bathroom door. "I'll shower first.", she informed him matter-of-factly. "I laid out some towels for you so you don't have to run around all wet. They're on the bed."
"Thanks. I would've let you go first in the bathroom anyway, I'm a gentleman after all.", he teased as he peeled off his soaked shirt and cargo pants. Grace had left the bathroom door half-open, so he could hear her chuckle. "Better save than sorry, right? Oh, by the way, you can start to pester me with questions."
Slightly puzzled, he asked what she meant.
"I know you want to ask me how I feel about meeting Keith again and about him being a person of interest in our case. So fire away."
Damn, the woman knew him well. He'd been dying to ask her about Bradshaw the moment she'd walked up to him with the guy. Wayne worried that meeting Bradshaw again would open old wounds in Grace. What that would do to their investigation wasn't even his main concern. He'd only refrained from nagging her because he didn't want to pry. Now that she'd given him permission to do just that, he asked: "So, how DO you feel about meeting Keith Bradshaw again? I guess it must have been quite a shock."
She turned the shower on, still not shutting the bathroom door. Rigsby wondered if she was even aware that the door was still open or if she did it on purpose so they could talk. Either way, he felt honoured by her display of trust, being naked in there (No, don't think about naked Grace, just don't go there!) and still trusting him not to walk in and sneak a peek (which he wouldn't even dream of, of course...).
Shouting to be heard over the running water she replied: "Well, I must admit it was a shock to see him again. I was worried at first that he'd see through my cover, but when I realized that he hadn't even known my last name when I was in college, I started to relax. I mean, that man is so full of himself and so obsessed with his cause that he didn't think twice about me coming back to the scene even though I had abandoned them without a word after that facility incident."
"That's not what I meant, Grace, and you know that perfectly well. How do you feel about meeting Bradshaw, I mean, personally? After all, you two have been close at one time."
"Relax, Wayne, I don't feel anything about seeing Keith. He wasn't a close friend, just someone my friends and I hung out with. I admit he WAS a role model for me at some point, but believe me, he wasn't the first and he wasn't, by far, the last."
Thinking about the way she admired their boss, Rigsby smiled to himself.
"I'll believe you for now. But if you're in any way uncomfortable with meeting Bradshaw again, you have to tell me and we'll figure something out, okay?"
The shower had stopped, and Rigsby guessed she was washing her hair right now.
"Okay. But I'll be fine, really. If you've dried off, can you check my mail for me?", she asked.
"Are you sure? What if there's personal stuff in your inbox?"
She gave an exasperated sigh that was slightly muffled from her wet hair hanging in front of her face.
"Wayne, that mailbox has been created for this assignment only. Who on earth should send me personal stuff? Lisbon? Cho?"
She was right, of course, so Rigsby booted the computer and clicked on the outlook symbol.
"Password?", he called over his shoulder.
Oh, right, he needed her password to access her account. Great! He would probably laugh his ass off when she told him.
"Lassie", she called back and waited for his snort.
"Lassie? Really?", he teased softly. "What's so special about Lassie?"
"I thought it fitting for this assignment.", she said defensively. "And I always wanted a collie when I was a girl."
"Did you ever get one?", he wanted to know.
"No, never. My dad thought they were wussies. So, did we get word from the boss?"
"Nah. There's just one mail, and it's from Jane."
"What does he write?"
Silence met her ears, and she turned off the shower to hear if she'd missed anything Rigsby had said. But he didn't answer.
"Wayne? What does Jane want?"
"I'm not gonna read that one out to you."
Climbing out of the shower and wrapping a towel around her hair, van Pelt dried off and grabbed her body lotion.
"Why not? I'll be out in a few minutes and then I'm gonna read it anyway because you're much too decent to delete anything from my inbox, so just read it to me, for cryin' out loud."
He knew she was right, of course, so Rigsby took a deep breath and read:
"Hey, pretty lady,
How are things going in good, old L.A.? Did you learn anything useful about each other? And has Rigsby finally given in and shown you his sexual prowess? Is he, indeed, as good in bed as I assumed? I hope so for your sake, you deserve it.
Interested,
Patrick Jane"
Grace could practically hear her partner blush when he read these lines, and she suppressed an angry shout, instead telling him in as calm a voice as she could muster at the moment: "Forward the mail to Lisbon."
He was obviously shocked.
"Really? She's gonna kill him for that."
"Good, then I don't have to do it when we get back. Seriously, the man has no shame, and I won't have him interfere in our investigation with his childish antics. Lisbon told him he could not call or text us, but he obviously needs to be told not to bother us via e-mail, either. Just forward the mail, and the rest is up to the boss." She wasn't about to tell him how angry Jane's innuendos had made her, especially at a time when she was feeling emotionally vulnerable. She knew she had feelings for Wayne Rigsby, but she wouldn't let Jane make her feel cheap and dirty about them. If he fooled around with her personal affairs, he would pay.
Rigsby, still embarrassed like hell, hit the 'forward' button, sending their boss Jane's mail and wondering how he should ever look Grace in the eye after this.
"You know, that was kinda cruel, sending Lisbon on Jane, even though he deserves it. I never knew you were a secret sadist.", he teased, hoping to lighten the mood and distract van Pelt from the mail's content.
"I'm far from that, Wayne. I'm just all for fairness, and I like small sins being punished immediately. And what better punishment than Lisbon's wrath?", she joked and came to the bedroom, clad in yoga pants and tank top, her hair still wrapped in the towel.
"Bathroom's all yours. What do you want for dinner? I for one suggest ordering in because I'm not cooking tonight. How about pizza?"
Rigsby grinned happily at the prospect of unhealthy food, and lots of it.
"Sounds perfect, even though the case isn't closed yet. But I think we still deserve it."