Van Pelt
She'd known Rigby liked her for quite some time. Aside from the time Jane told her that Rigby was going to ask her on a date in the restaurant, Rigby had kept mostly quiet about it, pretending he didn't have any feelings for her. Then he'd admitted to it when on pain medication after being burned, and Van Pelt was relieved he didn't remember it.
She wasn't sure how to feel about it, really. She liked him, but she didn't know if she like liked him. It was going too fast for her to make anything out of it. But in the hospital, sitting there, wondering if the two cleverest people she knew were going to be okay, Rigby had done something she didn't think he was sensitive enough to do.
He put one hand on each shoulder, looked her in the eyes, and said softly, "Everything is going to work out okay." His eyes were so confident, so sure, that she nearly dissolved into tears of relief. There wasn't any doubting what he said, regardless of what any nurses told her. It would work out.
She'd closed the gap and hugged him, realizing that she did like him. Sure, he was harebrained sometimes, but he was funny, strong, and knew when humor was needed and when compassion was better. He was the guy she'd romanticized about through high school and college.
Later, when she'd recovered from her weak moment enough for him to feel like he wasn't taking advantage of her in a vulnerable state, he'd asked if she would like to go out sometime. She agreed enthusiastically.
"But not today, and probably not tomorrow," he added. "It's probably going to be busy at the office, with two major injuries and the whole case coming." Van Pelt nodded.
"I know what you mean. Right now isn't really the time to start something," she said with a small, sad smile. He smiled back, still looking slightly bemused and awed that she was really paying attention to him.
"Later, though, right?" he said brightly.
"Sure. We'll have dinner somewhere. Start out slow," she suggested.
"Sounds good."
Third Person (Omniscient)
Lisbon met the others in the CBI office the next morning. She was putting a few files back in the filing cabinet, crouched under one open drawer and leaning over another.
"Hey Lisbon," a quiet voice said, startling her. A crash resounded through the room as the top of her head smashed into the drawer above, and her breath hissed out in pain. Two people laughed as she straightened up, rubbing her head, and turned around, blinking like an owl.
"Ja-!" She stopped and made an exasperated noise. Cho was standing in the doorway, laughing. He was holding his cell phone up.
"Are you alright?" Jane's voice said. Cho laughed.
"She's fine. She knocked her head on the file cabinet," he said. Jane laughed again.
"You're jumpy this morning," his voice commented.
"You weren't here to bring me coffee, so I wasn't very awake. I'm jumpy when I'm tired, but I'm wide awake now," she grumbled.
"I'm on speakerphone," he explained.
"Obviously," she said, pressing a hand to her head experimentally, wincing slightly.
"You didn't think I'd miss work, did you?" She could practically hear him smiling.
"I should've known you'd pull something like this. Didn't want to miss a chat with your good friend, Mr. Minelli. He's coming in a couple minutes for the whole story," Lisbon said, closing the filing cabinet and sitting down.
"I know," Jane said smugly. "Just for the record, this is the first time I've been on time. Actually, I think we're a bit early."
"A phone doesn't count," she smirked. Van Pelt walked in, and Rigby followed a minute or so later. Neither of them seemed surprised about Jane wanting to 'be there' when they told Mr. Minelli the whole story.
"How are we supposed to tell him that you went into a room with a huge audience, knowing perfectly well that someone was going to try to kill you?" Lisbon asked the phone, feeling a bit stupid for talking to a non-living object like he was right there.
"I'll tell him. No problem. I'm not planning on taking anything up with the office," Jane replied coolly. "He should be coming in soon. Hide the phone and make like I'm not listening in."
"No. He'll find out," Van Pelt said, rolling her eyes.
"He won't," Jane protested.
"Jane, I'm not going to fool my boss. We're already toeing the line with him anyway, from Azulia's need to be the smartest," Lisbon blatantly told him. She heard him sigh.
"Fine. Oh, here comes a nurse. Hold on a moment, and be quiet," Jane said. The agents listened as rustling sounds came from the phone, and they heard a door open.
"Vanessa," Jane greeted. Lisbon's lip curled at the blonde, flirtatious, engaged nurse's name. "How is Azulia?" Her annoying laugh sounded loudly in the phone. Van Pelt raised an eyebrow, looking faintly disgusted.
"Oh, Mr. Jane, you're so sweet. You're more worried about the girl than you are about yourself. You haven't asked a single question about your own substantial injuries," Vanessa said in her fake, high-pitched voice.
"I figured that, if anything vital had been damaged, you would've told me without needing me to ask," Jane said smoothly, his tone kind but not too kind to be encouraging to Vanessa's teasing attitude.
"You're right, of course. So clever," Vanessa sighed.
"So, honestly. How is Azulia?"
"She's surprisingly well, considering all the trauma she's been through. A punctured lung, broken ribs, fractured bones, and major blood loss… she doesn't have a very common blood type, either," Vanessa said. Of course not, Lisbon thought sarcastically. She puts a definition to uncommon.
"Is she going to be okay? Any lasting injuries?" Jane asked. Anyone who'd spent less time with the ex-psychic wouldn't notice the faint, almost undetectable hint of impatience in his voice, but Lisbon knew him well enough to hear it.
She could practically picture him sitting in his hospital bed, cheery and chipper, but with the slightest crinkle around his eyes, betraying his unhappiness. In her mind's eye, she imagined the shadows under his eyes a bit lessened from a night spent out of his hollow, throbbing house.
"None that the doctors have found. There were three pieces of shrapnel they couldn't get out, for the risk of paralyzing her. All three are quite small, the largest no more than two centimeters, and the doctors made sure they would never shift or move. The worst she'll notice from them is a slight throb once in a very long while and a hassle from metal detectors."
"Excellent. When will she be allowed visitors?" Jane asked eagerly.
"Probably sometime after lunch, but you shouldn't be up and around…" the nurse trailed off, and a few miles away, the agents smiled, imagining the look Jane was giving her. "It probably wouldn't hinder the healing process, though," she amended. "You can go see her around one."
"Thank you. When's breakfast, then?"
"Breakfast? You've got an IV."
"And IV doesn't keep me from being famished," Jane said, amused.
"You probably shouldn't have any solid food yet."
"Honestly, you'd think I almost died. It's just a few scratches on my arms."
"I'm just repeating the doctor's instructions." There was a short pause. A slight snapping sound, like something being uncapped.
"My arms feel fine. I don't need any of that," Jane said sharply. Cho and Lisbon exchanged a glance- the nurse was probably trying to give him some sort of injection.
"I'm not going to need to inject you again. I can just put it into your drip," Vanessa said, trying to stay light and happy, but clearly a bit taken aback at Jane's sudden tone.
"I suppose you can do that, then. It won't have any effect- I pulled the drip out an hour ago," Jane informed her, a laugh in his voice. Rigby laughed, and the other agents shushed him.
"Mr. Jane! You're not being a very good patient." There was the sound of more clicking and snapping, something being re-attached, then a rustling sound as Jane moved his arm away from the nurse's hands.
"I'm doing fine without that, and I swear I won't take it up with the hospital if something bad happens," Jane argued. "I don't need anything. Though, some toast or a bagel would be appreciated." He paused, and there was more rustling. "I'm not going to let you put that in me."
"Mr. Jane, you really shouldn't do this."
"I don't want a drip, and I don't need a drip. It's a waste of the hospital's resources. Save it for someone else who needs it and will thank you for it, because I won't." Vanessa sighed, and the wheels on the drip's stand squeaked as she rolled it to the door.
"Fine. If it starts to hurt at all, or if anything feels wrong, then push the button and I'll come running," she said.
"Don't worry. By the way, do you know when I'll be allowed to leave?" Jane called after her.
"Tonight, if all goes well. You're not improving your chances by refusing the drip."
"I know. But I don't operate on chances. I'm going to be fine, and we both know it."
"Speak for yourself. Don't be afraid to push the button for help." And, with that, the door finally closed. Jane let out a faintly annoyed breath.
"I hate hospitals. Did you get everything?" Jane said into the phone, leaning back and closing his eyes to listen, think, and relax.
"Yes," Lisbon said.
"Jane, you really shouldn't be messing around with the hospital care. They've got medical degrees, and you don't," Cho said over Lisbon's voice.
"But I've got amazing intuition and I'm the one in my body, not them. I don't care how many degrees they have, they don't know whether I'm in pain or not, or what feels wrong and what feels fine," Jane argued.
"Jane, you-"
"Mr. Minelli is there," he interrupted. Lisbon looked up, and, sure enough, her boss was striding down the hall, a coffee in one hand and a briefcase in the other.
"How did you… never mind. I hope you're ready to do some really great tricks," she warned him, assessing the irate look on Mr. Minelli's face.
"For the last time, Lisbon, they aren't-"
"Mr. Minelli, good morning," Lisbon cut him off, standing up to shake her boss's hand. On the phone, in a hospital miles away, Jane laughed and sat up to listen better, opening his eyes.
At almost the same distance away, with two room's difference, a very different pair of eyes opened. Wide, sharp, clever gold-hazel eyes.