Hidden Inside the Fold (Wayne/Grace, Patrick, PG, The Mentalist)
Fandom: The Mentalist... my first non-Numb3rs fic!
Title: Hidden Inside the Fold
Characters/Pairings: Wayne Rigsby/Grace Van Pelt (imagined), Patrick Jane
Rating: PG (imagery, to be safe)
Word Count: 577
Summary: An unfinished sketch...
Spoilers: 1.13 - Paint it Red.
Notes/Warnings: In the last two episodes of The Mentalist, the pairing of Rigsby/Van Pelt has really just jumped out at me and I've been left with an incredible desire to write them. This is the first of those endeavors. I hope you will enjoy. This is only posted here - if you know where else this might be welcome (if at all), thoughts are appreciated! Much love to my beta julietm and to sororcula for her helpful comments. *hugs*
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, regrettably - it's not mine.
Rigsby looked up from his computer screen just in time to see Patrick Jane rounding the corner, smiling that slow and devious smile he had that always made Rigsby nervous. You never knew what the hell Jane was up to when he smiled like that.
He watched the consultant walking closer before something was slipped onto the desk in front of him as Patrick kept on walking. “A present for you,” he called, his eyes focused elsewhere with his hands tucked behind him.
Wayne looked over his shoulder, knowing that Patrick was still smiling about whatever it was he’d put on his desk. He swallowed hard before he turned back around and stared at the thick white paper, folded to hide what lay inside. He considered just throwing it away. That would be safer, knowing Jane. But, something in the back of his mind called to him to open it… he just had to know what this present was.
He looked around to see if anyone else in the office was looking. If this turned out to be a practical joke, at least he could get away without the embarrassment of onlookers. When he found no one, he leaned forward - his heavy fingers scooping up the sheet of paper before his elbows rested on the desk.
With one more look around to see if anyone was watching, he slipped one finger into the fold and opened the note…
Instantly, he melted back into his chair - the breath he’d been holding escaping him as what he saw completely stole his every thought; his every ability to move or do anything more than look forward at the beauty he held in his hands.
The sketch was unfinished, the lines thick shades of grey and black, but he needed no more than this to recognize the beauty that had been captured in still form. The face was one he’d long ago memorized; the same face that held his thoughts at night and gave him a reason to come to work every morning.
Her hair was pulled back in a braid, away from her face as it always was. In the drawing, the stray strands that escaped lightly caressed her face and her neck - making his hands ache to be the one to brush them back for her. He knew every shade of red in the smooth, silky bundle and stood mesmerized any time the sun shone through it - dancing with brilliance.
This brilliance was matched only by the shade of green in her almond shaped eyes; eyes that bordered the cutest nose he’d ever seen. His gaze fell lower over the picture, landing on the full rounded shape of her lips. These same lips always reminded him of ripened watermelon - perfectly pink and, he imagined, just as sweet to taste.
Absently, his thumb ran over the lines of her lips… lightly smudging the pencil and making him retract. The blurred lines were a sudden reminder of everything he wanted that he knew he couldn’t have. There were rules. There were crimes to solve and criminals to put away. There were reasons she’d never look at him the way that he looked at her.
There was… “Grace,” he whispered to no one just before he looked up in time to see her rounding the same corner Jane had earlier, startling him into action.
He quickly creased the paper and his heart in half, concealing the contents of both inside the fold.
Title: Hidden Inside the Fold
Characters/Pairings: Wayne Rigsby/Grace Van Pelt (imagined), Patrick Jane
Rating: PG (imagery, to be safe)
Word Count: 577
Summary: An unfinished sketch...
Spoilers: 1.13 - Paint it Red.
Notes/Warnings: In the last two episodes of The Mentalist, the pairing of Rigsby/Van Pelt has really just jumped out at me and I've been left with an incredible desire to write them. This is the first of those endeavors. I hope you will enjoy. This is only posted here - if you know where else this might be welcome (if at all), thoughts are appreciated! Much love to my beta julietm and to sororcula for her helpful comments. *hugs*
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, regrettably - it's not mine.
Rigsby looked up from his computer screen just in time to see Patrick Jane rounding the corner, smiling that slow and devious smile he had that always made Rigsby nervous. You never knew what the hell Jane was up to when he smiled like that.
He watched the consultant walking closer before something was slipped onto the desk in front of him as Patrick kept on walking. “A present for you,” he called, his eyes focused elsewhere with his hands tucked behind him.
Wayne looked over his shoulder, knowing that Patrick was still smiling about whatever it was he’d put on his desk. He swallowed hard before he turned back around and stared at the thick white paper, folded to hide what lay inside. He considered just throwing it away. That would be safer, knowing Jane. But, something in the back of his mind called to him to open it… he just had to know what this present was.
He looked around to see if anyone else in the office was looking. If this turned out to be a practical joke, at least he could get away without the embarrassment of onlookers. When he found no one, he leaned forward - his heavy fingers scooping up the sheet of paper before his elbows rested on the desk.
With one more look around to see if anyone was watching, he slipped one finger into the fold and opened the note…
Instantly, he melted back into his chair - the breath he’d been holding escaping him as what he saw completely stole his every thought; his every ability to move or do anything more than look forward at the beauty he held in his hands.
The sketch was unfinished, the lines thick shades of grey and black, but he needed no more than this to recognize the beauty that had been captured in still form. The face was one he’d long ago memorized; the same face that held his thoughts at night and gave him a reason to come to work every morning.
Her hair was pulled back in a braid, away from her face as it always was. In the drawing, the stray strands that escaped lightly caressed her face and her neck - making his hands ache to be the one to brush them back for her. He knew every shade of red in the smooth, silky bundle and stood mesmerized any time the sun shone through it - dancing with brilliance.
This brilliance was matched only by the shade of green in her almond shaped eyes; eyes that bordered the cutest nose he’d ever seen. His gaze fell lower over the picture, landing on the full rounded shape of her lips. These same lips always reminded him of ripened watermelon - perfectly pink and, he imagined, just as sweet to taste.
Absently, his thumb ran over the lines of her lips… lightly smudging the pencil and making him retract. The blurred lines were a sudden reminder of everything he wanted that he knew he couldn’t have. There were rules. There were crimes to solve and criminals to put away. There were reasons she’d never look at him the way that he looked at her.
There was… “Grace,” he whispered to no one just before he looked up in time to see her rounding the same corner Jane had earlier, startling him into action.
He quickly creased the paper and his heart in half, concealing the contents of both inside the fold.