A/N: Hi everybody! Did you miss me? I apologize for the long wait for an update - I got exactly zero work done on this chapter while on my vacation and as you can see, it's kinda long. I actually had to cut this chapter short in order to get an update in before the weekend! Lots of fluff ahead. Hope you enjoy.

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Friday morning

Van Pelt blinked back the sunlight that was currently threatening to blind her as she slowly regained full consciousness. Hang on, my room doesn't have a window facing the bed, she mused. Then she realized she had a very heavy arm wrapped around her waist and was clothed in only a blue dress shirt with French cuffs – Rigsby's shirt. Everything came back to her in a crashing wave – dinner, the show, kissing Rigsby by the lake at the Bellagio, the champagne and chocolates, asking Rigsby to take her to bed (oh God, that was amazing), falling asleep exhausted and sweaty, waking up terrified, their conversation on the balcony, and finally relaxing into a dreamless sleep knowing that Rigsby wasn't going to give up on them without a fight. She propped herself up on one elbow, looking around for the alarm clock that she knew had to be around somewhere. She located it on the bedside table behind Rigsby, and realized that it was already nine a.m. She slowly and carefully eased back into the pillows, and considered her next move. Shifting onto her side so she could face Rigsby, she realized he was still soundly asleep, and took the opportunity to study him for a moment. His normally impeccably mussed hair suffered from serious bedhead; she could see faint stubble pricking through the skin on his cheeks and jaw. She reached up to gently trace his features, afraid that her touch might wake him, but he was still dead to the world. She reluctantly slipped out of bed and headed back towards her room, knowing that if she didn't get up soon, she'd spend all morning in bed. Plenty of time for that later, Grace.

A half-hour later, she was showered and dressed, ready for a morning of sightseeing. Plucking her camera off her bed, she decided to head back to the Bellagio to check out the Chihuly sculptures that Rigsby had promised her were so amazing. First, though, she scribbled a note for him and left it carefully tucked under his hand.

As she stepped off the elevator into the main lobby of the hotel, she made a beeline for the concierge desk, hoping that David was on duty this morning. To her relief, he was, and he grinned broadly as she approached.

"Good morning, Mrs. Brown. Did you and Mr. Brown enjoy the show last night?"

"We had a wonderful evening, David, thank you. Can I trouble you to do me two small favors, please?"

His ears perked up at her conspiratorial tone. "Absolutely, ma'am. What can I do for you?"

"First things first. Mr. Brown is still asleep upstairs, but he's going to be a little upset when he wakes up and discovers that I went sightseeing this morning without him. A half-dozen donuts and a fresh pot of black coffee would do a lot to soften the blow. Do you think you could arrange that for me?" David nodded confidently. "Also, please make sure that at least one of the donuts is a cake donut with chocolate icing and multicolored sprinkles, they're his favorite." David made a note on his notepad. "Second, do you have any recommendations for a good pizza place, preferably within walking distance?"

"Most of the staffers frequent Battista's – it's located on Audrie Street, right behind the Flamingo. They don't require reservations at the pizzeria, but it can get a little crowded. What time are you and Mr. Brown planning on leaving for dinner? I'd be happy to call ahead for you."

"That's very lovely of you to offer, David, but we don't have any firm plans at the moment. Could you perhaps give me the number, and I'll call once we have it figured out?"

"Certainly, ma'am." He leaned down, scribbled a number on his notepad and ripped the sheet off. "There you are. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

She leaned in and gave the adorable young man a quick peck on the cheek as a thank you. "No, David, you've done plenty this morning. Have a good day." She winked at him cheekily as she walked away.

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Rigsby reached over to the other side of the bed, and once again found it empty. Rolling onto his back, he sighed. She should teach stealth to the cadets at the police academy. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was already after ten. He estimated that he finally relaxed enough the night before to fall back to sleep around three; Grace must have decided to head out for the day and let him sleep in late. He rolled back onto his side, and his hand landed on a crinkled piece of paper. He unfolded it and realized it was a note from Grace

Wayne-

I thought about trying to wake you, but you looked so peaceful sleeping, and after last night, I thought you earned a little extra shut-eye. I'm going to do a little sightseeing but I should be back around lunchtime. I thought maybe we could spend the afternoon at the pool? If you make other plans, just let me know.

Grace

P.S.: If I've timed this correctly, breakfast should be waiting for you.

It was at that point that Rigsby realized he could smell a pot of hot coffee, coming from somewhere. He padded into the main room of the suite, and saw a tall carafe of coffee and a box sitting on the dining table. He grabbed a mug, and a jug of creamer from the fridge, pouring himself a cup of java. Sitting at the table, he pried the box open, to reveal a half-dozen cake donuts with chocolate icing and multicolored sprinkles. He smiled. Breakfast of champions.

He dumped two sugar packets and some creamer into the coffee mug and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, scarfing down four of the six donuts in short order. He tucked the box away in the mini-fridge, in case Grace wanted to snack on the remaining donuts later. Taking a quick look at his watch, he realized it was already close to eleven. He hopped in the shower, shaved and brushed his teeth, and pulled on a t-shirt and his swim trunks. It took some digging, but he finally located his flip-flops, sunscreen, beach towel and sunglasses. Grabbing the notepad from the beside table, he scribbled a note for Grace and headed downstairs to the pool.

Van Pelt stumbled back into the suite around 12:30, already regretting her choice of footwear and searching for the nearest place to collapse and take off her shoes. Even wearing her flattest sandals had done little to combat sore feet from all the walking she'd done along the strip. She propped her feet up on the coffee table and sunk into the couch to catch her breath. That was when she noticed that the suite was completely silent. She got up to peek into Rigsby's bedroom, and noticed the note he'd left her on the bedside table.

Grace -

Went downstairs to the main pool. If you're not back by 1, I'm having lunch without you.

-Wayne

Well then, guess I'd better get cracking, Grace thought and laughed a little to herself. If she had to guess, she'd put money on Wayne having already ordered lunch for the both of them. She dashed over to her room, tossed her jeans and t-shirt on the bed for wearing later, and pulled on her brown, halter-style tankini. Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, she hurriedly started slathering on copious amounts of sunscreen and dug through her duffel bag for her trusty Chicago Cubs ballcap. Flip-flops, coverup, towel and ballcap acquired, she darted for the elevators. There's no way she was missing lunch.

As she wandered through the enormous pool area, she instantly regretted not having grabbed her cell phone. It would have been much easier to find Rigsby by texting him. She realized quickly that she needn't have worried; although the pool wasn't deserted, it was still early in the spring and it wasn't very crowded either. Also, he'd managed to attract the attention of a petite blonde waitress, who was apparently taking his lunch order. In typical Rigsby fashion, he was completely oblivious to the young nubile girl fawning all over him, and was studying the lunch menu intently. Time to play the jealous young newlywed, she thought, grinning to herself. This is gonna be fun. She instantly started walking with a more determined stride, and as she approached his pool chair, she tossed her towel and hat on the chair next to him, simultaneously stripping her coverup over her head. The ruckus diverted his attention; the catcalls from several other men hanging out a few feet away focused it directly on her. His eyes grew to the size of saucers when he realized she was standing in front of him. Winking coyly, she plopped down into his lap and attempted to read the lunch menu in his lap upside down.

"Hi, honey, were you just about to order lunch?" Grace couldn't help but inwardly cheer in triumph as she noticed the waitress' face fall at the realization that her target was already spoken for.

He looked up, gave her swimsuit a once-over and grinned lecherously. "I was just about to order a roast beef sandwich; what would you like?"

Grace turned to the waitress and requested a turkey sandwich with fries and a Diet Coke. As she shuffled off to put in their orders, Grace and Wayne turned to face each other and both burst into laughter. Grace was laughing so hard she was shaking.

"Oh, that poor girl, you should have seen her face when I came over here and she realized you were taken, it was priceless."

Rigsby's expression shifted from amusement to total confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, honey, you mean to tell me you really weren't aware of the fact that she was flirting with you?"

"She was?" Rigsby's face creased in honest befuddlement. "I wasn't really paying much attention to her. I was trying to stall her to see if you'd make your way down here, cause I didn't want to order for you and get something you wouldn't eat."

"She was totally flirting with you; or trying to, at least. I can't blame her – you aren't wearing your ring, so you're fair game."

"I didn't want to lose it in the pool, so I left it upstairs."

Grace straightened up and walked over to her chair, smoothing out her towel, and tucking her flip-flops and coverup under the chair. She tugged her ponytail back through her ballcap and pulled on her sunglasses. Turning back to Rigsby, she handed over her bottle of sunscreen. "Wayne, can you do me a huge favor? Would you mind putting some sunscreen on my back? I can't really reach back there very well."

"My pleasure." Rigsby leaned over, wrapped one arm around her waist and dragged her onto his lap. He carefully tucked her ponytail over her left shoulder and leaned down to press a light kiss into the crook of her neck, eliciting a contented sigh. He squeezed a dollop of sunscreen onto his palms and started slowly massaging her back, carefully avoiding the ticklish spots he'd inadvertently uncovered the night before. Task complete, he leaned forward slightly, wrapping his arms around her middle and pulling her backward into a hug. She clapped her hands on his knees and pushed herself up off the chair. "Turn around," she ordered. He did as requested, and she sat down behind him, straddling the chair. He tensed slightly, anticipating the cool sensation of sunscreen being rubbed along his back, but he wasn't at all prepared for how good her hands would feel tracing up and down his spine. They were interrupted by the return of their waitress, who settled their sandwich plates, sodas and the check on the table in between their two chairs. They settled back to enjoy lunch, Rigsby occasionally reaching across to steal fries off Van Pelt's plate.

Two hours later, after Rigsby had floated around the hotel's lazy river twice, he decided it was time to rouse Van Pelt from her nap, and make sure she didn't end up sunburned. He jumped into the deep end of the pool, and swam down to the stairs in the shallow end. Climbing out of the pool, he stalked over to their chairs slowly, deliberately kicking up as much water as possible to attract her attention. It worked.

She wrapped herself under her towel to shield herself against the water dripping in long rivulets off his body and onto her chair. If she was being honest, she was also hiding under the towel to prevent herself from drooling over Rigsby's well-defined chest. She knew it was a little childish, but she couldn't help it. "Rigsby, what are doing? You're getting me all wet!"

He grinned. "That's kind of the idea. I wanted to make sure you weren't getting sunburned, and see if you wanted to, you know, actually swim? The water's perfect." To emphasize his point, he leaned over, tugging the towel off her head and gently prying her sunglasses off her face. He stared deep into her eyes and gave her yet another of his charm smiles, and she relented, reaching up to tug her hat off. Unfortunately for her, she was just distracted enough to allow him to wrap his arms around her waist, lift her up and toss her over his shoulder, fireman-style. She started to squirm and squeal, in the hopes that he'd set her back down on her own two feet, until she realized that the fuss she was putting up was giving her a headache and her screeching wasn't having an effect on him anyway. That, and she was getting a good view of his backside.

Rigsby stomped off in the general direction of the deep end of the pool. He was sort of flying by the seat of his pants, here, testing Van Pelt's tolerance for the more mischievous side of his personality. She gave up struggling against him fairly quickly; he'd originally intended to toss her into the deep end of the pool but decided to take pity on her and get closer to the middle instead. After stopping at the edge of the pool, he pitched forward slightly, to shift her weight off his shoulder and wrap her legs around his waist to keep her from crashing to the ground. As she blew a lock of hair out of her face, he put on his most impish grin. "Are you sure you want me to put you down now?"

"Yes, please!' she responded breathlessly and with more than a little exasperation.

He kissed her on the nose, reached behind his back to unlock her legs from around his waist, and gave her a light toss into the water as he called, "As you wish!"

The expression he saw on her face as she resurfaced, spluttering and flustered, made him think he might have committed a pretty serious tactical error. She glided smoothly over to the edge of the pool, propping herself up on her forearms. As she crooked her finger at him, beckoning him to lean down to hear whatever it was she wanted to say to him, his brain screamed not to comply, that he was leaning into a trap, but he couldn't help it. He bent down at the knees, leaning forward a little to see if she actually had something she wanted to tell him, and instantly regretted it as soon as he felt her hand grip his arm, taking advantage of the shift in his center of gravity, and tug him into the water. Once he resurfaced, he saw her very self-satisfied smirk and swam over to pin her up against the edge of the pool.

"I definitely deserved that."

She crossed her arms in front of her and put on her most disapproving face. "Yes, as a matter of fact, you did."

He leaned in to see if he could get away with stealing a kiss. "Forgive me, please?"

She dodged his lips at the very last second, ducking under one of his arms and expertly pushing off the wall, smoothly knifing through the water in a perfectly executed freestyle stroke over to the opposite side of the pool. Upon reaching the opposite wall, she flipped onto her back and backstroked back across. One flip turn later, she resurfaced right in front of his face.

"I'm impressed. Were you a swimmer in high school?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I worked as a lifeguard at the pool during the summers, and swimming got me out of cheerleading during basketball season."

Rigsby was incredulous. Cheerleading? He'd never have guessed. "You were a cheerleader?"

"When you're the coach's daughter, there are certain expectations. It was either join the cheerleading squad, or work the sidelines for my dad shagging balls during games. Which do you think I would rather have done?"

"Honestly? I pegged you for a band geek." He was rewarded for his sarcasm with a crashing wave splashed in his face. "Kidding! Just kidding. Though there is nothing wrong with being a band geek. I dated a couple in my day."

"I have zero musical talent, unfortunately. I kept up with gymnastics and dance just long enough when I was little so that I had enough coordination to make the cheer squad. I didn't like cheering that much, though, so when I made the swim team my sophomore year, it was an easy way to get out of it."

"Were you any good?" He was fascinated by this tiny window into Grace's past. Despite being incredibly empathetic and encouraging her colleagues to allow their emotions to inform their jobs, she was, somewhat contradictorily, very private about her own life.

"I was good enough to swim on the relay teams, and we made the state meet my junior and senior years, but I wasn't good enough to get a scholarship out of it or anything. But that was okay, my grades took care of that."

"You never cease to amaze me, Grace."

Van Pelt gave him her most enigmatic smile. "I certainly hope so. I'm gonna swim a few laps, and then maybe we can call it an afternoon? It's got to be close to 4 already."

"Probably. Is there something in particular you wanted to do tonight?"

"Well, it is Friday, and we did close a case this week, so I think Case Closed Pizza is in order. I got a recommendation from our favorite concierge, and the place just so happens to be right down the street, so you can chug as many beers as you heart desires," she said with a smirk.

"Can I watch the Lakers game, too?" he asked, knowing full well that she was a Bulls fan.

"I don't know if this place has TVs, but if the game is on, I won't be offended if you're glued to that, and not to me." She floated over to him, placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, and started swimming her laps.

Rigsby hopped out of the pool, gathered up his stuff, and promptly headed upstairs to the suite for a cold shower.