Author's notes:

Thank you to two great writers and friends, make-mine-a-kiaora and Sue Shay, for their help. Be sure to check out their stories - I have favorited them in my profile for easy access.

I do not own the TV show The Mentalist and get no compensation from it. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes only.


Chapter 12 - "The More I See You, The More I Want You"


Grace Van Pelt and her husband Wayne Rigsby had lain awake for hours unable to sleep. Worse, they felt trapped in the guest bedroom at Teresa and Jane's house. It was like a prison cell with a queen-size cot.

They dared not venture out of the bedroom. The noise she and Wayne heard around the house made them fear what they would see if they opened the door. Just after dawn quiet returned, but by then neither of them could fall back to sleep.

After a fruitless half hour of tossing and turning, Grace looked over at Wayne to see him looking back at her. Both nodded an unspoken agreement. They rose from bed, and Grace cracked open the door.

Fear gripped her as she peeked into the hallway. She found nothing. Nothing but pastel blue walls, a painting of sunrise along a beach, and an oak bookshelf…with a t-shirt draped across its top. Tugging her husband's sleeve, Grace led the way down the hall. A surprise greeted them at the end - the door to Lisbon and Jane's bedroom was half-way open.

"Do you think we should go in?"

"Wayne, we need to let them know how ill-at-ease they made us. We're both happy for them, aren't we?"

"Yeah."

"But they can't keep this up while we're here."

"You're right. Neither of us got a wink of sleep."

"And what about when Charlie gets older? Teresa and Jane are gonna have to show some restraint."

"You're right again."

"Let's peek in there and see if they're asleep yet."

"You first, Grace."

Grace shook her head in disbelief when she heard her husband say that. He'd always been circumspect around Lisbon and Jane, but they were friends now, not colleagues. As such, Grace knew they'd respect her and Wayne's feelings. Taking a deep breath, Grace pushed open the door fully. Wayne looked over her shoulder.

"Gone! How could they have left already?" asked Grace.

"I don't know," Wayne said. "Let's go eat breakfast."

Grace took a half-a-second to shake her head at the bottomless pit that was her husband's stomach. Then she patted it.

"Alright, but as soon as we eat, we're going to the police station. We've gotta talk to them."

Thirty minutes later, the sun still low in the sky, a bleary-eyed Grace and Wayne walked into the station. The night shift's skeleton crew bustled back and forth. A few of the day-shift cops lounged around with coffee and the morning paper before they began work. Oddly, the light in the hallway leading to Teresa's office remained dim; perhaps in their haste to get there neither she nor Jane had flicked the switch to full power.

Reaching the end of the hall outside Teresa's office, Grace and Wayne found the door open and heard Jane's voice wafting out from inside. Grace glanced at her husband a final time before she entered. He nodded. Taking a deep breath, she walked in. Wayne, bless his heart, followed two steps behind.

What they found was Patrick Jane behind Teresa's desk. He was holding Charlie as he finished hitching up a new diaper. The scene flummoxed Grace. It was difficult enough for her and Wayne to bring up their hosts' behavior; now it felt like they were picking on the family. Jane raised his gaze from his son to the new arrivals. He smiled.

"Good morning, Wayne, Grace. I didn't expect to see you guys up so early this morning."

Grace nodded at Wayne, which prompted him to speak up.

"About that, Jane. We need to talk."

Jane's brow furrowed.

"Is there a problem?"

Wayne glanced at Grace for support. She raised her eyebrows for him to continue.

"Yes there is, Jane. But Grace and I want to emphasis that we're happy for you and Teresa."

"Yeah, we're really happy that you got together, that you married," said Grace.

"Well, that's good. I'm glad you two got married," said Jane. Holding Charlie on his shoulder while patting his son's back, he had an expression on his face like someone gets when confronted with a puzzle he can't solve.

"Uh, yeah, Jane. We're all glad we're…uh…married." Wayne was having trouble finding words to express himself.

"And we're really glad you invited us to spend our vacation here. We've enjoyed it so far," said Grace.

"Even when I got you to go undercover?" asked Jane.

"Well at least we got to drive that sweet '66 Pontiac GTO."

Grace didn't want Wayne to get distracted so she poked him in the stomach.

"Jane, I'm just gonna come right out and say it. Neither Wayne nor I got any sleep last night."

"I'm sorry, Grace. Was something wrong?"

"Nothing other than all the racket around the house."

"Racket?"

Now Wayne joined in. Grace could tell that Jane's nonchalance irked her husband as much as it did her.

"Jane, all that moaning and screaming and yelling embarrassed us. Your carrying on kept us awake and in our room the whole night. We were scared to open the door. We were scared we'd interrupt whatever you and Teresa were doing."

"We, ahm, knew what you and Teresa were doing. We just didn't want to see it," said Grace.

"Privacy is a two-way street, Jane," said Wayne.

"Don't just think of it in terms of us, Jane. Think of Charlie. As he grows up, he'll become more aware of what's going on around him. For his sake, you and Teresa need to think about keeping your…passion…a little more quiet," said Grace.

Wayne took a deep breath before he spoke.

"You need to be more discreet, that's all."

Grace noted that Jane's expression hadn't changed while she and Wayne poured out their thoughts. Instead of contrition, his scrunched-up face betrayed bewilderment. Before he spoke, he cast a glance to the corner. Grace followed his line of sight to find Teresa folding up the office couch. Apparently it also served as a pull-out bed.

"Did you hear that, Teresa?" Jane asked.

"Yeah." She looked over at Grace. "Racket at our house kept you awake last night?"

"Yes, it did, Teresa. Like we said, we're not mad at you. We know you love each other, but we think you two going at it as loud as you were doing it last night is…"

"Grace, Jane and I didn't go home last night. We've been here all night getting the drone ready to inspect. We keep this pull-out bed here for when we're working on a fast-moving case."

"…and we keep a portable crib here for Charlie," said Jane.

Grace looked at Wayne. He was as dumbfounded as her.

"Well if you weren't at home last night, then who…" Wayne's words trailed off as Kimball and Capp walked into Teresa's office, all smiles and giggles.

Kimball Cho giggling? The whole concept floored Grace. She looked over to Wayne, and at the same time the two of them grinned at each other.


"Oh, crap" Capp thought as she entered Teresa's office. Four pairs of eyes followed her and Kimball as they walked in.

They know.

Capp Grainger could do nothing more than smile…and giggle when Kimball whispered to her.

"You don't think we were too loud, do you?"

I love this man.

"I'm just gonna go get some coffee and let you greet your friends."

"Coward."

"Really, Kimball? You can really accuse me of that?"

The two of them giggled again as Capp walked around to the kitchenette in Teresa's office and Kimball strode over to his friends, defiance on his face. Before she turned the corner, Capp noticed that the drone now sat on Teresa's desk, ready for inspection.

Once Capp made it into the kitchenette area, she started up a fresh pot of coffee and looked for a mug. From the office, she heard only muffled voices - except for Wayne Rigsby's "Attaboy" followed closely by Kimball's "Shut up, Rigsby." That exchange brought forth laughs from the others.

Even though Capp could tell the group was giving Kimball a hard time, she could tell something else too - these people were close. Making friends had always been hard for Capp, and she admired the strong bond these people had formed at the California Bureau of Investigation. She could see the familiar way they talked to each other, the gentle kidding they shared, and the warm spirit that filled the room when two or more of them were together.

During downtime on their own mission, Kimball had told Capp about the team at CBI. What he and his friends had to go through! Kimball confided in Capp that in his last months with CBI he wondered if they would even survive. The serial killer Red John and what became known as the Blake Association ratcheted up the normal tension and danger that came with the job to a level that no one could endure for long. That cemented the strong connection he had to his old team - Wayne, Grace, Teresa, and the late Patrick Jane.

Capp gathered that the rest of the team took Jane's death hard. What happened to Jane was so unfair, she thought. Sure he broke some laws. But thanks to Jane one less serial killer stalked the earth. And they unmasked that corrupt association too.

Yet this tight-knit group never spoke of Patrick Jane nowadays. Of course people handled grief in different ways. With her Kimball coping meant quiet stoicism, a trait she admired in him. Teresa, the one closest Jane, coped by moving on with her life. Kimball told her that Teresa Lisbon and Patrick Jane been like brother and sister at CBI. At least now in Cannon River, Teresa had found love in the form of Archie Marbray, a good if somewhat odd man. While Capp respected Kimball's powers of observation, she suspected that Teresa's feelings for Patrick Jane had extended beyond a mere sibling-type bond. Why else would Teresa have called Archie "Jane" when he netted the drone? Most men wouldn't take it well when their wives called out the name of a man from her past, but Archie seemed to take it in stride. That spoke well for him. Yes, Teresa Lisbon and Archie Marbray had made a good life for themselves, and Capp wished some day for a life like that of her own.

A pair of strong arms encircled Capp's and broke her out of her thoughts. She hummed as memories from a couple of hours ago flooded back. As she eased back into a now familiar embrace, Capp felt a pair of lips brush against her ear lobe.

"You look good in the morning, Nymph."

Capp twisted around in Kimball's arms to face him. She hung her arms around his neck.

"You look good too, Rascal." She just couldn't help herself from saying what she did next. "And you smell better than you did when I found you in that wheat field in Kansas."

They laughed together.

Capp closed her eyes while they leaned toward each other. As her lips moved onto Kimball's, she smelled lilac soap. It conjured up a fresh memory. Before they came to the police station that morning they showered. Lilac was the only kind of soap they could find in the guest bath at Teresa and Archie's house. She decided that scent suited Kimball well, and her mind had already linked it with him.

Just as Capp and Kimball deepened their kiss an unholy racket kicked up in the office area. Metal clanged, and raised voices followed each thud.

"…no, I said move it over that way…"

"…pull on three. One, two, three…"

"…don't drop that thing on my foot…"

"…eeeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooaaaaaaaaawwwwwww! I said not to drop it on my foot…"

"…okay, you two on that end and we'll be on this end. On three we'll all pull. One, two, three…"

Capp opened her eyes to find Kimball's open too. Looking at each other, they rolled their eyes at the same time.

"What do think your friends are doing out there?" she asked.

"Screwing up."

Capp sighed.

"I guess we oughtta stop 'em from whatever it is they're doing before they hurt themselves."

Kimball leaned forward for one more kiss.

"They're good people, Capp, but sometimes they can get into the darndest trouble."

They released each other and headed back into the office.

When Capp was growing up, Viola censored what they watched on television. Her mother ruled out anything with foul language, adult situations, and the twin pillars of moral turpitude, sex and violence. After Viola went through her checklist, only one TV show was left, one from the 1950s. Sometimes she cast a wary eye at that one too, but Capp complained so much that her mother gave in. For that, the little girl was thankful. So as a child, Capp Grainger viewed all of life in terms of I Love Lucy.

Now rounding the corner into the office, Capp stopped so quickly that Kimball slammed into her backside. In front of them a real-life version of what she grew up watching on TV unfolded. Teresa and Archie held the front end of the drone, pulling it toward them. At the rear, Wayne and Grace gripped the tail fin and yanked it backwards. The result? Only grunts and grumbles and a tug of war that neither side could win.

"Hey, hey. Lucy and Ricky, Fred and Ethel. Save something for me to take a look at."

Capp crossed her arms as the quartet ceased their tug of war. Setting the drone down on Lisbon's desk, they backed off.

"Be our guest." Teresa smiled as she stepped aside to let Capp move to the desk.

"Thanks. Now somebody find this gal a blow torch."

Capp waited three beats before she looked up from the drone at the quartet again. When she did, all four of their mouths had dropped open. Glancing beyond them, she saw Kimball grin at her. She winked at him.

"A blow torch?" Teresa's voice cracked when she asked.

"Just kidding, folks. You guys take me waaaaaay too seriously. Be more like Kimball. He knows how to handle me." Again she looked over to Kimball and winked. "What I do need is a medium-sized Phillips screw driver."

"I can do that," Teresa said. She walked behind her desk, pulled open the bottom drawer, and extracted a set of seven screw drivers in a plastic case. Teresa handed the case to Capp. "Can you use one of these?"

Capp picked up the one in the exact middle.

"Perfect. I need this one and few minutes, and then we can see the innards on this baby." She petted the side of the drone like it was a puppy. "Pull up a chair, Teresa, and let's get started."

Despite knowing Kimball's friends for only short time, Capp had come to like all of them, the chief in particular. Teresa Lisbon was one of those natural-born leaders, someone she felt a trust for and kinship with. Kimball had described his old boss to her in glowing terms, and now that she got to meet the woman in person she understood his respect.

With Teresa helping to catalog each part they removed, in a half hour they had spread five major sections of the drone across the desk. Kimball and the others crowded around the two women to watch. With a sigh of success, Capp at last set aside her screw driver to take a break.

"I never knew you could pack so much surveillance equipment into one small space," said Teresa.

"Yeah, and someone customized a lot of it. Look at it. We've got heat sensors, an infrared camera, an ultrasound device. I wish my doctor had half this equipment when I got appendicitis."

"All of this would have been useful in scanning a building like the apartment house, wouldn't it?" asked Archie.

Capp nodded.

"You could find out a lot about a building."

"Including what was inside?"

"Yes."

Wayne Rigsby moved around the desk, his gaze scanning over every inch of the drone. Looking up, he spoke to Capp.

"Grace and I could use something like this in our own work."

Capp saw Grace scowl at Wayne and cross her arms.

"How much would one of these cost?"

Capp scratched her head.

"At least in the upper six figures, Grace."

She saw Wayne's expression droop.

"That much, huh. Is there an aftermarket these things?" he asked.

"Some. For instance, the federal government has one of its units for sale right now for a lot less. The scuttlebutt around the office is that its front end got damaged in a recent operation. I wouldn't make a bid on it if I were you though. You don't know what that thing has been through."

Kimball smirked at Capp.

A commotion by the doorway got everyone's attention. Henry Karson ran in with a jumble of maps and printouts tucked under his arm. When he saw the pieces of the drone strewn across Teresa's desk, he changed course to the table in the corner and spread out all his materials. He called to Teresa and Archie over his shoulder.

"Chief! Professor! I've got something."


To be continued.


Author's notes:

Chapters 10 and 11 of the story "Clear Blue Morning" explain the "death" of Patrick Jane that Capp was thinking about.

Lucy, Ricky, Fred, and Ethel were the four main characters on the American television sitcom I Love Lucy.

Harry Warren and Mack Gordon wrote "The More I See You" in 1945, and my favorite version is Michael Bublé's on his album, It's Time.

Up next: "King Of Pain"