First of all, I am SO SORRY for the long wait =.=! My muse abandoned me for other fics and I'll try to make next update quicker . Nothing much to add –except I've been terrible at replying reviews lately but I'll do better next time uu".
I had a craving for pastries the day I wrote the first part; hence Rigsby's…job :P
Thanks to: P. Schoeller , 13Jo; MK; Fallon the Coyote Pirate; Jisbon4ever ; emmaxjane (de rien :D); SakuraAkira365; Lauri-mentalist; STVVGHPDWMfan; leelou09; jasadinfor their reviews :D thanks for the alerts and favorite too :D! (hope I didn't forget anyone..)
And thanks to Navar for beta-ing this :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Mentalist, I do not earn money with those fics and I don't deny having a thing for AUs. Hope you will enjoy this (won't blame you if you don't ;D)
Guardian Angel
9.
Grace opened the fridge and frowned. Aside from a few leftovers, the shelves were completely empty. Or almost empty. A few vegetables, sauces…in short there wasn't enough to cook something decent for the both of them. So she picked up a bag and took off to the closest grocery store, cursing Jane. All right, the man was an angel so he didn't need to eat as much as she did. It didn't mean she couldn't skip meals too. Well, technically, just like any other human being, she could just a few meals, but not that many…
Her attention was caught by the sign of a bakery and she glanced at the pastries on display. Some weird green stuff was sitting next to what looked like a red, fruity muffin and small tarts and pie that were just begging to be bought. Grace hesitated and checked her wallet. She had Jane's credit card for the groceries and a few bucks in change. Oh well, what was the meaning of changing life if she didn't enjoy it a bit?
Grinning widely, she pushed the front door and immediately turned towards the huge cookies and donuts shelf. The quiet ringing announcing her entrance caused some movement behind a back door and someone stepped out from behind. Too busy ogling at the attractive pastries on display, she didn't notice him right away.
"Can I help you miss?"
The sudden interruption caught her off guard and she lifted her head. A young man in his early twenties was standing behind the counter, a forced smile on his face. Grace scanned him from top to bottom wordlessly. Dark brown hair and dark eyes, taller than her, a handsome face and nervous smile, well-built and sort of awkward with his apron, and a tag-name with 'Wayne' written on it…with some leftover yellow stuff on the corner of his mouth. She smirked inwardly. He was good-looking for sure, perhaps a bit shy and definitively a glutton but unquestionably cute. She put on her best innocent-looking face and smiled back:
"Yes, thank you. Do you happen to know what are…those things made of?" she asked, pointing to the green things she had spotted behind the glassed wall. The young man shifted his weight on his feet uncomfortably.
"I…uh…I think they are stuffed with cream and the green thing is marzipan. Sorry miss I am just selling here, I don't actually bake them."
You don't bake them but you sure eat them, she thought, put on a disappointed face, enjoying the poor young man's discomfort. It was extremely mean of her, and she knew it, but he was fun to tease.
"Oh, too bad. It's okay though, I understand. I'll take one anyway. Along with these two donuts" Grace added and went on picking up a few pastries on the way. Muffins, small cakes and appetizing things she wanted to try were not forgotten. They were about to pay for the total when she froze and asked suddenly:
"Oh wait, do you happen to have white cookies?"
His hand paused when she asked her question and Wayne stared at her in disbelief.
"White cookies?" he repeated dubiously. "What are…uh I'm not sure what…"
Grace rolled her eyes and added:
"White cookies; I mean cookies with white chocolate in it. I can understand you are not an expert but you should at least know the basics."
Wayne winced at her comment and babbled an apology while assuring they had some. Inside, the redhead was close to bursting with laugher. When she realised he was extremely upset of his incapacity to provide answers, she decided to put an end to his misery.
"Sorry, you couldn't have known, it's just what my family called them. You're just so easy to tease, my dear." she said grinning, giving him the right amount of money. "And next time, wipe your mouth better, you have some remains there…"
And to emphasise her point, stretched her finger and brushed the said place. Wayne's cheeks turned crimson at the boldness of her touch and she picked up her bag. One last flirting smile and she was out.
-GA-
Jane sighed in annoyance and stood in front of the Archangel, arms crossed.
"What?" he asked dryly, hinting he wasn't in the mood for a prolonged conversation. As such, Hightower went straight to the point.
"I am here about the subject of the Red Case."
"Grace?" Jane asked, frowning. "What's wrong with her?"
"I want to remove her from the operation. Since I don't have access to both your and her background, I cannot consider her as a reliable element in this mission. You will understand my decision."
"Of course" he replied good-naturally.
"So you will send her back immediately."
"Absolutely not."
The black woman raised her brows in surprise.
"No? And for what reason? I am the one giving orders here."
"And I am the one accomplishing this mission. Consequently; I am the only one in position to decide whether I shall or not use someone. As for Grace, her background does not matter; I was her last GA in charge, I know what I am doing."
Hightower narrowed her eyes.
"You don't understand the matter obviously. I can't –and won't- trust someone whom I can't read's file."
"So you can't –and won't- trust me."
The serious glint in his eyes told her everything she needed. He knew she had no access to his background and was obviously playing with her. Once on a mission, a Guardian Angel could not be called back unless there was a major reason, or he quitted. Using Grace as assistant was granted to him by her, and she technically couldn't take measures against it. Jane smirked inwardly. Perhaps he didn't like to follow rules, but it didn't mean he had no idea what they were. Before she could come up with a reply though, he continued:
"Archangel Hightower, I am not in the mood." he said with a hint of annoyance. "I have barely started my mission; you are already on my back. As much as I'm sure you are worried for Lisbon's salvation, you will leave me a bit more time to be a real part of her life. You want her to survive. You asked for me. Deal with my methods."
She pursed her lips in annoyance.
"I've seen the way you acted with your charge…"
"My methods, deal with it."
"I'll turn a blind eye on your words and impertinence" she eventually said, fed up with his uncooperative behaviour and knowing that he wouldn't change his mind. "Don't let this girl get to you, Mr Jane. She is your charge; you will eventually have to leave her."
"I know; I will" he hissed between his teeth. "Just let me do my job."
The Archangel disappeared in a wave of smoke, clearly unhappy with the outcome. Jane closed his eyes and leant against the wall again. The memory of a tall, slender woman sobbing hysterically, hitting him weakly on the chest came up to him. Then it faded away, replaced by the picture of Teresa's eyes, filled with upcoming tears and trying hard to restrain them.
You will eventually have to leave her.
Angela. Angela too was struggling with everything and even when he came to help her, she still wanted to chase him away. Whenever he saw someone like her…
I know; I will.
And now he wished he could believe his own words.
-GA-
Teresa sighed when she pushed the door of the apartment. The boys wouldn't be there for some time, and her father was sleeping sound in the living room. She leant against the doorframe and crossed her arms. When did things start to turn so wrong? He wasn't so angry before, or even a while after her mother's death. Just…silent, and quiet. And then one day, he came home wasted. And since that day, it had turned worse and worse.
The teenager shook her head and picked up her bag again. She needed to go out. To breathe. To take advantage of a few moments she could be alone with her thoughts and try to figure things out. Her feet guided her to the park where she and Jane had talked the first time. She sat on the same bench and watched the kids playing again. Her mind wandered a bit before her thoughts stopped on a grinning, charming blond-haired man. The corner of her lips turned upwards. It seemed like she couldn't get Jane out of her head lately. The man had caught her attention and despite all of her best efforts to ignore him, she couldn't stop thinking about him. Teresa smirked slightly and closed her eyes, allowing herself to daydream a bit. His warm smile, handsome features…the flushing of her cheeks when he teased her...She giggled quietly. Yeah, she definitively had a crush on him. Maybe in a different situation, in which John was out of the picture, she would have flirted with him, just for the fun of it. Nothing would have happened for sure, but…
"Hi, mind if I take a seat?"
Teresa lifted her head and realised Grace was standing right next to her, a paper bag in her hands and backpack over her shoulder. A quick glance around informed her no other bench was free…and obviously the redhead had no intention to keep company to the old man drooling over his newspaper or the mother looking too eager to share some deep and superficial secrets. The teenager resigned herself to meet her fate and nodded, moving to make some space.
"It's free."
Grace beamed –and Teresa noted the glint of relief in her eyes. She sat immediately, putting down her backpack on the ground. The paper bag was set on her knees and she immediately opened it, eyeing its contents with care. The dark-haired teenaged spotted the bright red and golden logo on the bottom of the bag and couldn't help but smile.
"Ah you went to 'The Parisian. I use to work there, as a part-time seller. The owner worked for a French Chef for a few years."
Grace nodded at her words and pulled a muffin out of it. According to the amount of sugar at the corner of her lips, the redhead had already eaten a few pastries on the way. Teresa was amused to see the sweet biscuit disappear within seconds. The redhead licked her fingers eagerly.
"Sorry for the manners, but they are so good…Want one?" she added, handing out the bag towards her. Teresa hesitated, and eventually gave in to temptation and stole a brownie.
"Thanks."
"No problem. Now I need to hide that from my sight if I want to keep a few for my uncle" the redhead replied nonchalantly, hastily putting it back in her backpack and taking out some fashion magazine. "I swear he's going to pull a face when he'll realise I've got mint stuff –he hates that, but the chocolate should make up for it."
Teresa couldn't help but smile a little.
"He's a chocolate lover?"
"Yeah" the redhead replied. "Don't ever leave a pack of chocolate cookies near him. One minute it'll be full, the next there will only be crumbles left." She paused and added with a wicked grin. "Well I'm a little bit hypocrite, I have a soft spot for gummy bears. Give me a bag and I'll be your friend forever. Do you have a sweet tooth?"
Teresa chuckled, amused. When she had first met her, she would never have pictured Grace for the on-going type:
"I have a thing for cinnamon."
Grace smirked bitterly, apparently remembering something.
"It's not my favourite flavour, but I use to know a kid who was crazy about it" her mouth formed a thin line before she changed subject: "I didn't know Mr Jane would be such a sadist. Half of the class was late for the essay."
Teresa noted the change in her eyes when she had mentioned a 'kid' and recorded it in her memory. Then she chuckled amusingly at the end of her sentence and nodded.
"Some of them won't be happy for sure. And Mr Jane seems like the kind of man who doesn't fear his students and beat around the bush." A sudden realisation dawn upon her: she was sitting here, on a bench, with someone she barely know, making conversation with her and enjoying it! The happy feeling she had fled away as dread slowly crept within her. She suddenly asked:
"Did you hear what the others said about me?"
The redhead nodded, flicking another page of her magazine.
"Sure. They had a lot of juicy details about your boyfriend's accomplishments."
Teresa winced slightly at her nonchalant tone. Did the girl have any idea of what she risked only addressing her in a friendly way?
"Then why are you still running after me?"
Grace glanced at her before reporting her attention to her reading.
"I told you, I have seen –and met worse. People like you tend to wind up too lonely for their own good. I figured you could use a friend before you end up like them."
Teresa sighed and leant forwards, resting her elbows on her knees and closing her eyes. At the moment, she didn't feel like arguing. She was tired from her day and just wanted to enjoy some time alone, before heading back to her dysfunctional family. But apparently, some people had decided her peaceful moments were still too much.
"So no matter what, you're going to follow me?"
"I think that's what I just said."
The petite teenager glanced at her and added warily:
"And you know John is likely going to come after you."
"I can take care of myself" she replied calmly.
To that, Teresa snorted amusingly. Grace turned her head towards her and replied very seriously:
"Hey don't laugh! I could be a well-known delinquent someplace in New York, for all you know."
"Honestly, I have a hard time picturing you as a delinquent Grace. You don't fit the profile."
"You don't know me Teresa" the redhead replied coolly. "And I sure don't know you either, but I want to. We can do this the easy or the hard way. You can let me in, or I can force my way in."
The brunette busted into laugher. With Jane intrigued by her and Grace almost threatening her to be her friend, she wondered if this could get any weirder. One day, she was drowning in her misery and wishing to walk out of this shit. The next, two weirdoes were obviously trying to sneak behind her shields. What they wanted from her was another story to tell.
"You always speak like this to people you're trying to befriend?" she asked, smirking in disbelief. Grace chuckled in turn and answered pleasantly:
"I don't have friends. The only people daring to get close walk away soon enough. Despite what you seem to think, I am not easy to handle."
"Oh really?" the petite brunette snarled dubiously.
"I figured we could hang out. You're lonely and I'm inevitably going to end up alone. And you know what they say, loneliness loves company…" she paused and frowned. "Or is it 'misery loves company'?"
Teresa chuckled at her debate and leant back on the bench.
"I'm just out to enjoy the evening" she started, and added: "And the quiet."
"I make no noise when I want to. Forget I am even here if you want. You don't need to talk…"
Grace's cell phone rang.
"So much for being quiet" Teresa mocked, grinning slightly.
The redhead grumbled something when she read the text she just received and muttered under her breath.
"Gotta go. My boss is calling me."
"Your boss?"
"Mrs Frye. I'm keeping her kids."
Teresa winced at her words.
"I heard they weren't exactly gentle little beings."
"Call them monsters" Grace growled. "You have any tricks to keep wild dogs at bait? I think I tried everything."
"Uh…horror stories?" the brunette offered. "My brothers use to love them when they were younger."
The redhead frowned, thinking. A few seconds later, her mind seemed to be set up.
"I can give it a try. Thanks for the tip."
As Grace walked away hurriedly Teresa relaxed back on the bench, eyes closed. Even if it had been a short conversation, she had enjoyed it. She hadn't allowed herself to speak nonsense to someone her age so…freely for longer than she cared to admit. With anyone else, she felt on edge, always remembering the threat of her pseudo-boyfriend hanging over their heads. But somehow, it felt different with Grace. She couldn't explain why, but the girl intrigued her; just like Jane, except that she did not have a crush on the redhead. Jane and she…shared something. Perhaps their blunt manners, the way they tried –or forced- they way into her life. They both appeared same day after all.
A small smile grew on her lips. Maybe, just for once, she could allow herself to believe in what she was feeling right now. That maybe…just maybe…things were about to change.
The green stuff Van Pelt eyed is called 'figue' (fig) in France. De-li-cious xD
Thanks for reading so far!