An/ Hey, thanks to all of you who reviewed and are reading this story, you are definitely on my happy feelings list along with whatever beautiful mind thought of the Rigsby/Van Pelt dynamic. Now you get to find out how Grace's visit really went.

If the flashback part seems a little OOC, I can explain, alcohol does crazy things to people. Even controlled women like Grace.

I don't own the mentalist, which is probably good because if I did, it would turn into a meaningless fluff fest. So lets all be glad that the Mentalist is owned by someone sane who can keep the awesome feeling of the show and not me.

Chapter Two

Don't look at him, don't look at him, don't look at him....Grace repeated in her head as she kept her eyes glued to her computer screen. As soon as she entered the CBI the Monday after her wonderful display of drunkitude at Rigsby's apartment, she knew that this was going to be a day that would be a challenge. She didn't quite know how to face the man who had inherently gotten quite the look at all she had to offer.

She knew she would have to talk to him eventually, they were working a case and so there was no way she could avoid him forever, but boy, did she wish she could. She had always prided herself on her ability to remain in control and to be responsible. Whatever running streak she had going was shattered that night, and that was far too hard to face. She sincerely hoped that he wouldn't think less of her, and prayed that he wouldn't tell anyone, especially Jane.

She glanced over, seeing Rigsby equally engrossed into his work. She was sure that everyone could have noticed the awkward tension between them, how could they not. While she often spent her days working feverishly, it was no secret that she and Rigsby made small moments in the day for some interaction. She knew she was considered high strung and sometimes a drag, but Wayne didn't make her feel that way. Around him, she always found a way to be her fun-loving self, a fun-loving self that rarely appeared while working.

On the otherside of the bullpen, Rigsby kept reciting his mantra silently to himself. Don't look at her, don't look at her, don't look at her...

He didn't know how to eat this all up. Everytime he even glanced at her, he thought of the sight of her that night. Oh how he wanted to have a taste of the feast that would have made any red blooded American man want to drool, but he resisted. It had been hard, but he resisted. This however didn't stop him from recalling the details of her clothing less body with great precision, though he averted his eyes the moment they popped back into his head. He loved Grace, and while he did, in fact, want to see her naked someday, he was sort of hoping for different circumstances. He knew it was old fashioned, but he didn't really want his first night to be spent with her while she was wasted.

He inadevertantly looked over, the mental images flooding back to him. Stop it Rigsby, just stop it. You don't want to be the pervert who's mentally undressing a coworker. Stop it... He looked back up taking an innocent peek at her, suddenly having to start his chastisement again.

He thought back to that...interesting Friday night, and all the revelations that had come. While he hadn't wanted to admit all of the details to Grace, they were burned into his mind.

"What in the world?" Rigsby mumbled to himslf as he heard a knock on his door. He had no idea who would be trying to see him at midnight. His social life, due to the demands of his job, was slightly lacking and while he was no social pariah, he would be shocked if it was anyone besides his own mother. As he opened the door he was stunned to find that it wasn't his mother, but Grace Van Pelt.

"Hey Wayne." She waved, stumbling slightly as she let herself in. He looked her over, laughing internally to himself. While Grace sober tugged at his heartstrings unbearably, there was something about her drunk that was plainly adorable. Her lipstick was smudged slightly, presumably from downing a beer (her drink of choice on the rare occasion that she did drink. He loved that about her. He loved that she was just a small town girl who was unpretentious.) He tried to look into her eyes, but they were squinting as to the point where they were closed.

"Hi Grace." He said, putting a protective arm around her as she almost stumbled and fell on his rug. "What--uh--What are you doing here?"

"Tonight." She hiccuped, laughing a little. He would have never predicted her to be a giggly drunk, but then, he would have never predicted her showing up at his house sloshed either. "I had to go to this bachelorette party and it was for my ex-boyfriend's fiancee..." She began epically as Rigsby eased her onto his couch. "And I now totally realize something, but you're going to have to keep it a secret." She whispered seriously, her eyes growing wide.

"I don't know if that's such a great idea, you know, telling me a secret right now." He said as he plopped down next to her, unsure of how to really handle this strange situation. "Sweetheart..." The pronoun naturally slipped, causing her to smile a little. "You're a little bit wasted."

"Wayne." She said, drawing his name out for as long as she could. "You tell me secrets all the time. Like when you were on Painkillers or when you got hypnotized."

"I do." He said, suddenly panicking. "What secrets did I tell you?"

"That you love me." She said matter-of-factly. "Or when you got hypnotized, Jane tried to help you and he told to you to...well, its a long story. But in the end, you kissed me."

"Oh no." He said, hearing for the first time some of his actions around Grace. "I'm really sor--"

"Shhhh, I'm going tell you the secret now." She informed, putting her finger over his mouth. "But you can't tell anybody."

"I'm going to get you a drink of water and maybe some medicine." He deflected, getting up from the couch. "Then you can tell me the secret." He promised as he wondered if it was too late to call Jane. Jane would know how to get Van Pelt out of this.

He ran to his kitchen and shuffled through his medicine drawer, pulling out a bottle of Motrin. Shuffling two small pills into the palm of his hand, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water. "Alright Gracie, I'm going to call Jane and have him figure out how to ermm...ugh..." He sputtered as he walked back into the room. His Gracie was still there, only, there was something missing.

His first instinct was to gasp at how beautiful she was, but his gallant nature took over immeadiately and he smacked his hand over his eyes. "Gracie, sweeite, you're not...um...you're not wearing any clothes."

"You ARE perceptive." She teased. He chuckled appreciatively, at least he knew that even when drunk Grace retained her sarcasm.

"Why are you not wearing any clothes Grace?" He asked, his hand still over his eyes.

"You should be able to figure that out." She giggled mischievously. "There are only a few activities that the norm requires that you do naked."

"Oh dear." Rigsby groaned, trying to keep his testosterone in check. It was hard; this is what he had wanted for so long, but he wanted it from different means and he would wait until Grace knew what she was doing, even if he waited forever. Thinking quickly, he shut his eyes tightly before lifting off his UCLA t-shirt from his back.

"Ooo, so we ARE going to do it." Van Pelt cheered. Apparently she was also a chipper drunk. "And here I thought you were going to not give me what I wanted."

"I'm not." Rigsby insisted, holding the shirt out to her. "Put this on please."

"I never tire of seeing without a shirt." She mused as she took the article of clothing from him and slipped it on, rolling her eyes at his nobility.

"Well, thanks." He sputtered thoughtlessly, not knowing what in the world was going on. "Are you dressed?"

"Depends on your definition." She surmised, wrinkling her nose as she contemplated. "But I guess for this situation, I'm dressed enough."

"Woowee." He let out, not knowing how this night could get any stranger. He took a good look at her now, and it made him ache. While this wasn't how he wanted things to go, this was what he wanted. He wanted Grace at his apartment late at night, he wanted her there every moment of the day. He wanted her wearing his shirts to bed. Shaking the images of what he wanted them to have from his mind, he grew serious. "Grace, what just happened there."

"Your shirt smells just like you, I like it." She noted with a smile before looking at him. "I uh...What was the question again?"

"You just took your clothes off Gracie, I need to know why." He pressed patiently, using the tone that he used with his six-year-old niece. Only his niece never gave him this much trouble.

Grace chuckled happily. "Well, I would have thought that it would have been fairly obvious, but I'll tell you." She said seriously, adding with a wicked grin. "Just because you're cute."

"Grace." He prodded with a false bravado.

"I was trying to get you in bed." She said pertly, as though that phrase coming out of her mouth wasn't enough to give Rigsby a heart attack.

"Are you trying to kill me?" He groaned, leaning against the door frame to keep the distance between them. She was tempting him more than he ever knew he could withstand. "Why would you do that?"

"That was my secret." She cried, hiccuping slightly. "But that's alright, I will tell you anyway. Come sit here." She said, patting the seat cushion next to her for him to sit.

Rigsby stood for a moment, not really knowing how to proceed before tentatively plopping down next to her.

"You ready?" She asked in a hushed voice.

"Yes Ma'm." He said nervously.

"Here it is...I love you." She blurted, tilting her head to the side to gage his reaction. "I really do. And for a while there, I thought it was just because you were in love with me and guys never seem to be in love with me so I thought I loved you because of that. But tonight, I realized I really do love you. And it isn't about CBI rules or you being in love with me, but because I'm terrified. I'm so scared that you are just in this for the chase and the second I let you know this, I'll lose my appeal."

"Gracie..." He stammered, watching as she took his hand. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that but, but you're only doing this because you're drunk."

Grace shook her head in denial first before eventually nodding. "You're probably right." She admitted before adding, "But I really do mean it Rigsby."

"I hope so." He whispered, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "I think you just need some rest after tonight and I don't know if you really know what you're saying."

"So, you don't believe me?" She taunted, laughing as she stood. She smiled wickedly before laying on him a sloppy kiss that he kept his lips tightly shut during. "We've already done that." She laughed. "You were just hypnotized."

"So I've heard." He said patiently, leading her to his bedroom. "Come on Gracie."

"Are you going to give me what I came for?" She asked hopefully.

"No." He said firmly. "You need sleep."

"Why are you so scared of this?" She scoffed. "I thought this was what you wanted."

"It is, but I don't want it like this." He admitted. "I don't want it when you don't really know what you're saying."

"But what if I did know?"

"You don't." He insisted. "I love you, but if you knew what you were saying you wouldn't say it."

"Well, I am sort of a coward." She mused as he helped her onto his bed. "Are you leaving me? Why don't you stay?"

"Because I love you." He said, knowing that she probably wouldn't remember any of this the morning after. She pouted slightly, but he just shook his head, reaffirming the situation. "Night Grace." He kissed her lightly on the forehead before going to shut off the light.

"Night Rigsby." She smiled, falling asleep almost instantly after her head hit the pillow.

He waited at the door for awhile, sure that he had ruined everything before going and lying on his couch, trying to salvage a few short hours of sleep.

Now, the Monday after, she wouldn't speak to him, though it was absolutely killing him. He wondered if he ought to tell Jane, who seemed like some sort of an authority on this sort of thing, but decided against it. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass Grace.

Don't look at her, Don't look at her, don't look at her...He continued chanting wondering how in the world he was going to fix this.

An/Same song and dance as last time, let me know what you thought and I will do my best to help bring good world karma.