Authors Note: I was really surprised at the response I got to this story. I was expecting a lot more people to be unhappy with the direction that the story is heading, of course as no one is in my brain but me, I may be the only one who knows how this is going to end up. Any way, thanks for the reviews and to Ebony 10 for being beta for me.
Disclaimer: If I owned it, I would not be living in a desert.
It started out just that one night, after the one case. It was just supposed to be one dinner, to make it up to her for all of the crap we gave her. The next case when we did it again, I wanted to ask her to go out to dinner again. I just couldn't stand the look on her face after Jane had gone in to talk to her. He was supposed to be apologizing, but I think it just made it worse.
At least no one had died this time, not that they usually do. But it had still been an embarrassment for her. She had to clean up a mess and a half when Jane had got done proving who had been the killer. There were reprimands involved and most of them had been for her.
They said she couldn't control her team, that we were all loose cannons. Van Pelt had taken offense to that. She was rarely involved in the schemes that Rigsby, Jane and I were. Really, it was all Jane. I was watching them through the window of her office again.
She was really letting into him. She was upset. He was letting her yell at him this time. He wasn't trying to stop her. Why couldn't he just try saying he was sorry and then not do it again for a few weeks? That would probably help her stress levels some.
She looked like she needed a hug, but I knew Jane wasn't going to give her one. He was probably going to attempt to charm his way out of the situation and he would probably succeed. She deserves better than that.
He's leaving her office now, going to lie on the couch; doesn't even care that she looks close to tears. She needs to go out again. I think I'll drive this time. She needs to drink.
I knock on her office door again. This time I just come in without her permission—I don't think she'd say yes. "You need to get out," I say before she can say anything.
"Really?" she asks skeptically. "What did you have in mind?" She smiles weakly at me.
"There's a new sushi place in town. Or we could go to this burger joint I know. They make really good garlic fries."
"Fries, please." She stands up and grabs her coat.
"I'll drive today, just in case you want to drink. You look like you could use it."
"In that case, I'll treat this time." She really smiled at me this time. It made me happy.
As we walked out the door, I saw Jane looking at us again. He seemed a little bit confused. Maybe I could teach him a thing or two about how to treat women. Maybe she would be happier then.
We're sitting at the restaurant now. Its happy hour and she's taking full advantage of it and the fact that I'm driving. She's relaxed at least. She's forgotten about the horrible day at work and the mountain of paperwork waiting for her back at the office.
I'm having a good time, too. Her smile is contagious and I find myself laughing along with her, despite the fact that I'm not drinking.
"I don't know why I always take the flack for him. He's never going to learn. I just keep doing it." She was rambling really. Just talking to talk. Letting it all out. It's good for her, really.
"One day he'll learn or he'll just smarten up and stop." She doesn't hear me and just keeps talking.
"You know, I used to think I liked him, like really liked him, but every time he pulls another one of his stupid stunts…One of these times, he's not going to be able to talk me out of it. I'm going to really have to do something."
I just look at her. I knew she liked him, but it's different hearing her say it. I don't like the way it makes me feel, but I don't dwell on it. I just sit, looking at her. We're drinking beer, or she is, and eating massive burgers and heaps of garlic fries. I'm having a good time and I think she is too.
It's after midnight now. We've been in the restaurant for hours. The staff is getting anxious. They think we're never going to leave. Just when I'm about to tell Lisbon that we need to go, she pulls out her wallet and signals to the waiter. She pays with a credit card, leaving a tip that's more than the bill.
I drive her home and tell her that I'll pick her up for work in the morning; her car is still at the office. She's going to have a headache in the morning. I make a note to stop by Starbucks on the way to pick her up to get her a very large coffee. She's going to need it.