Authors Note: So, this kind of got away form me, not length wise, but content wise. Don't ask me where it came from, but I had a bout of insomnia and this is what came out of it. Thanks to lgmtreader for the beta.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Unexpected 3
"Jane, we have to stop," Grace said, pulling back from the kiss.
"Why?" Jane asked his breathing shallow and slightly deepened with lust.
"Patrick, I'm dating Rigsby."
"That's the best reason you can come up with?"
"Yes?" She wasn't so sure herself if that was still a valid reason not to give into him. Hadn't he given her exactly what she wanted? A slow simmering evening filed with longing and desire that slowly built until they couldn't hold back. And that's what had happened. The talking, the food… that's what she wanted, and she knew that he would be able to give that to her. "Patrick…Thank you for tonight, it was everything I wanted."
"But?"
"It's not right. As much as I want it to be, we just can't." With that she got up and started walking toward where they had left the car.
"Grace! Wait!" Jane watched her for a second before he chased after her.
"No, Jane. It's not right. I knew what was going to happen when you suggested we go out tonight, I should have just said no."
"Is it really that bad?"
"Do you ever wonder why it is that I went out with Wayne? Why it is that we didn't work?"
He looked at her, waiting for her to give her reasons before interrupting.
"There's no future here. Every time we got together it was as if you were ashamed of it. It was as if you liked the thought of us, but not the actuality. I can't live like that, Jane. I can't live like I'm something to be ashamed of."
Jane stared at her in shock. "Is that what you really think? That I'm ashamed of you? I've never been ashamed of what we have, what we had. I care about you. But you're right; I'm not your typical boyfriend. I'll never be able to give you what Rigsby can, but at least I make you happy.'
"There's more to life than just being happy Jane. Look at you; you're miserable most of the time. Even when we were… together, if you could call what we had being together, you were miserable. Can you blame me for thinking that you didn't want to be with me?"
"Grace, I wasn't—"
"Don't lie to me. It's not becoming." She turned and kept walking, signaling she was done with the conversation, but Jane wouldn't let it drop.
"Grace, I wasn't going to lie."
"Right, tell me another," she replied, and he cringed at the emotion in her voice. She was trying not to cry, and really just needed him to stop talking and take her home.
He didn't say anything else as they got in the car and drive back to her apartment. As they pulled up he placed a hand on her arm to stop her from getting out of the car. "I'm sorry that I've hurt you; that was never my intention. I do care about you, and I only want happiness for you."
"Goodnight, Jane," she said, getting out of the car. Jane watched her, debating if he should follow her, but decided to give her time. Rushing her, pushing her, right now would just hurt her more.
Grace leaned up against the door of her apartment. This evening had been… she wasn't sure how she would describe it. She'd been enjoying herself; she usually did when she was alone with him and they weren't at work. But then they had kissed; and she'd realized what it was about him that she liked the most, his touch. That and the way he listened.
He knew when she wanted to talk, when she wanted to listen, and when she just wanted to be left alone. She took a moment to look out the window and noticed that his car wasn't in the parking lot anymore; he'd known she wouldn't want him to come up.
She got ready for bed slowly, her emotions still running high. By the time she crawled into bed she was exhausted.
She didn't know where the shrill ringing was coming from, but she knew if it didn't stop she was going to hurt someone, which was saying something because she wasn't the violent type. After what seemed like hours, but was really just seconds, the ringing stopped and she sighed settling back into her bed again, pulling the blanket up to her chin. She had just closed her eyes again when the ringing started back up, accompanied by a pounding on her door.
What the hell? She sat up in bed and groped for her phone, the cause of the shrill ring, and looked at the caller ID, Wayne. If she'd been in the mood she might have laughed. She was almost certain that Wayne was also the one at the door. She debated just throwing the phone at the wall, but she didn't. She waited until it stopped ringing again to check and see that she had 5 missed calls, all of them for him, and that it was only 5:00 AM.
Even if she hadn't been in a mood from the night before with Jane she still didn't think that she would be happy to be woken up this way. But maybe it was a case, maybe it was important. She sighed, getting out of bed and throwing on her robe. She shuffled to the door, her head pounding with each loud knock on the door.
She threw open the door and glared at Wayne as she started in on him. "What the hell are you thinking? It's 5:00 in the morning, I've got neighbors with kids, I don't think they want you waking them up—"
He cut her off with a gentle hand placed on her arm and a smile. She was still pissed off, but knew that yelling at him in the walkway of her apartment complex wasn't going to help anything. She stood aside so that he could enter, and closed the door firmly behind him, debating on whether or not she should lock it, if she should give him the impression that she wanted him to stay.
"Why are you here, Wayne? Do we have a case?" She tried to keep the weary tone out of her voice, but didn't think she did a very good job.
"No, I'm just worried. I tried to call you last night, but you never answered. I couldn't sleep, so I came over, and usually you're just getting up at this time…"
"Its 5:00 AM Wayne; I don't usually get up until 6:00 at the earliest."
"Sorry." He looked so like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar that for a second she actually felt sorry for him, for worrying him last night, for not taking his calls, but no, she wasn't.
"I'm tired, Wayne; I've got at least another hour that I can sleep before I need to get up—"
He cut her off, stepping close, invading her personal space. "Where were you last night? I was worried."
"I wasn't feeling well, I had a headache, I went to bed early." Not entirely a lie, but she wasn't going to tell him that she had been with Jane, that she'd given serious thought to going back to Jane, that she'd ever even had a relationship with him in the first place.
"Do you still have it?" His question caught her off guard.
"Have what?"
"A headache? I can help with that. I know you get stress headaches sometimes and I know how to help with those."
She half smiled at him, which he took as an invitation. She tried not to stiffen as he placed his hands on her shoulders and began to massage them. He did know how to help with her stress headaches, but this wasn't what she needed, or wanted, right now. She wanted Patrick Jane, and Wayne Rigsby just wasn't going to cut it.
"Wayne…" And he misunderstood the tone in her voice, took it as a 'keep going' and not a 'stop.' He turned her gently so that her back was to him. His fingers bit into her shoulders just a tad more, the sharpness there causing her to gasp; again misinterpreted by him, he pulled her back, brought his mouth to her neck, and placed an open-mouthed kiss to her pulse point, his hands sliding from her shoulders her breasts.
She knew she should stop him; she wasn't really in the mood, at least not for him, but knew that if she closed her eyes she could pretend that the hand tweaking her nipple through the light fabric of her night gown was Patrick's, that the hand traveling further south didn't belong to the lug of a man who didn't really understand her, but to the sad broken man she'd left sitting alone in his car just the night before.
She knew it was wrong, but she didn't stop him, she just leaned back and tried not to call out the wrong name.
AN2: Not sure I'm liking Grace right now...I'll have to fix that.