Title: Unprofessional

Disclaimer: I do not own the mentalist

Pairings: Jello and RigsPelt

Warnings: occasional bad words

Rating T: due to the occasional bad words

Spoilers: No real spoilers, but if you want to be sure, don't read if you haven't seen the end of season 2.

AN: For the LJ Mentalist fic-meme. Prompt by youknowher: Grace/Lisbon (friendship), "the not dating co-workers rule". Don't forget to leave me a review.

Unprofessional

Rigsby and Van Pelt aren't talking to each other... I assume they had an epic fight. Probably about how Rigsby doesn't eat enough healthy food or about how Van Pelt perpetually forgets to close the drawers and closet doors. Not that she seems like the type to forget these kind of things, but we all have our little secret quirks, and the idea of 'Van Princess' being messy always helps me to get over my secret envy of how perfectly feminine she is.

"Lisbon, I just have to say... this is getting ridiculous!"

Looks like I'm not the only one who's annoyed. "I agree, Jane. This is why the CBI has the 'not dating co-workers'-rule. What are you planning to do about it?" Knowing him, nothing that helps.

"I was thinking we could lock them in one of the storage rooms back at the office. But first I need to get someone to install a camera in it; I don't wanna miss the blow-out." He rubs his hands together, a mischievous smirk all over his face.

"Thirteen."

"Thirteen?"

Score one for me, he's confused. "Actually, I'll go with twelve."

"Twelve what?"

Go, Lisbon! "Years, Jane, years. Your mental age roughly corresponds to that of a twelve-year-old."

He pouts, "Even if that were true it wouldn't be a nice thing to say."

"So?"

"So... a wise woman once said 'If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.'"

I snort. "You call an animated bunny rabbit 'a wise woman'?"

"The fact that it was said by a cartoon rabbit does not make it less true!" He protests. Uh oh... there is big gesturing involved... I didn't really hurt him, did I?

"Imagine you knew someone who lived in a glasshouse, what advice would you give them?"

"I'd probably tell them to shower in the basement."

I almost choke on my own tongue. Jane grins like he just won the World Series, then he motions over to one of the witnesses and says, "I'll just go over and ask him a few questions, okay?"

"As long as you take Cho or Rigsby with you."

"Why? I don't need their help."

"Remember what happened the last time you went to interview a witness by yourself?"

"Don't remind me, my nose hurts when I think about it."

"Exactly. Take Cho or Rigsby!"

"Fine, fine..." He walks over to Rigsby and claps him on the back. "Let's go, my giant grumpy friend."

As they walk away, Jane floating three feet in the air and Rigsby sulking up a storm, I exchange an amused grin with Cho. Unfortunately my good mood commits suicide when I turn around and see Van Pelt's sour expression. Time to play the mean, stupid, insensitive boss and give her a swift kick.

"Van Pelt, a word?" I walk away from the cluster of uniforms.

"Yes, boss." She sounds like she's halfway on the way to a full-blown hissy-fit. Really unprofessional and therefore unacceptable behavior.

"Listen, Van Pelt. I'm turning a blind eye to the incredibly unprofessional personal relationship that has developed between you and Rigsby, but if you don't get your attitude under control, I'll have to intervene for the sake of my team and my reputation as a very capable senior agent. If you don't start acting professional this instant, I'll have to sent you back to the office." I don't like threatening her with consequences... I'd much rather sit down for some girl-talk and bitch and moan about men. After all this might be Rigsby's fault and she might be righteously pissed. But I'm not her best friend, I'm her boss. And sometimes being in my line of work sucks.

"Oh that's just rich coming from you..."

Wait... what...? "I don't know what you're implying..."

"Oh please, like your relationship with Jane isn't personal or unprofessional. Especially with all the eye-sex and the fighting and the rule-breaking that you keep covering up..."

I want to give her the verbal whiplash she so richly deserves, but I am completely dumbstruck. Speechless.

To my surprise I don't have to say anything at all, because apparently Van Pelt had no idea what she was saying a moment ago and is as shocked about it as I am.

"Oh my God... I am so sorry... I..."

Oh no, no-no-no-no no. She's breaking Rule One: Never cry at a crime scene if you want your male chauvinist colleagues to take you seriously.

"Ah... look, why don't you go back to the car and start researching the deceased, witnesses and so on. We're almost done here. I'll ask the guys to drive back with Jane, so we can talk about what just happened here. Okay?" I walk a very thin line between gentle and boss-like, but apparently it works because Grace nods and blinks the tears back before turning around and walking back to the cars.

I give the crime scene a quick once over, while I try to sort through my pretty chaotic thoughts. She can't be right. My relationship with Jane is unconventional, sure. But unprofessional? Unbidden thoughts of emerald necklaces and ponies enter my mind. Followed by even worse ones of hidden glances, hugs, dancing and the occasional very (un)welcome hot dream. Oh god, I am so screwed.

The end

AN2: I'm in desperate need of a stupid joke to con you into leaving me a review... but nothing comes to mind... why don't you help me with it?