Fic: Jane's Couch (Mentalist Mini Bang 2011)
Jane's Couch
Author: miss_peg
Artist(s): watchyouwalk and tromana
Link to art: watchyouwalk | tromana
Word Count: 1220
Rating: PG-13
Summary: With Jane not around, who will get his couch?
Disclaimer: The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, neither does Jane's couch...
Notes: This is the first of my Mentalist Big/Mini Bang fics for the mentalist_bb challenge. Excitement!
Thanks goes to tromana, my beta, my muse and one of my wonderful artists. Also to the lovely watchyouwalk for doing art too! Can't wait to see it! Don't forget to give them plenty of love too!!!
The couch sat in the corner of the room looking tired and lonely. Grace never really paid much attention to the worn fabric. It belonged to Patrick Jane, well it actually belonged to the CBI, but Jane had claimed it and because of that Grace saw little point in even considering it as a choice of seat. But on that quiet fall morning she didn’t take her usual seat at her desk, nor did she move forwards into the bullpen. She stood in the doorway watching the couch, waiting for something to happen. She half expected Jane to come bounding out of Lisbon’s office looking determined to go against her wishes. That wouldn’t happen anytime soon, it probably wouldn’t ever happen again.
She squeezed her eyes together and pushed away the intense feelings she hadn’t been able to shift since that day. The day that her whole world turned upside down without so much as a warning.
‘You okay?’ Rigsby asked, entering the bullpen behind her and standing at her side searching for whatever she was staring at. She shrugged her shoulders and considered her answer. She used to be honest about her feelings where possible, especially around Rigsby. That had changed, along with everything else.
‘Yes.’ She forged a smile and moved from her stationary position into the centre of the bullpen.
‘What are you looking at?’
‘Jane’s couch.’
‘Guess it’s not Jane’s couch anymore,’ said Rigsby, sitting down on the corner of his desk and steadying himself with his hands.
‘What’s going on?’ Cho asked, entering the room with his arms folded. Grace and Rigsby turned their attention towards him for a moment, then looked back at the couch.
‘We’re trying to decide who gets the couch,’ said Rigsby, standing up and walking towards it.
‘Jane’s couch?’
‘He’s not here anymore, it’s not his couch, it’s the CBI’s.’ Rigsby bent down and pushed his hands into the fabric of the sofa cushions then stood upright with a smile; he’d always wanted to sit on the couch but was more afraid of what Jane would do to him.
‘Still Jane’s couch,’ said Cho, moving to his desk.
‘He’s not coming back; I’m bummed about it too, but why waste a perfectly good couch?’
'It's Jane's couch, it's like speaking ill of the dead or something,' said Van Pelt, closer to tears than she would have liked to be at that particular moment.
'Jane's not dead,' said Rigsby as he sat down and bounced slowly on the cushions, before lying down completely in the place vacated only a few weeks ago by Jane.
'I know,' Grace said, her voice strained and small, the way it usually got when she was on the verge of tears. Rigsby brushed off her obvious restraint and stared up at the ceiling.
'Hey, you really can see Elvis from here.’
Grace shook her head and returned to her desk, she was too furious with Rigsby’s lack of respect that she couldn’t watch him anymore. She busied herself with their current case, glancing over occasionally at the couch and Rigsby who was sitting reading a case file.
‘Come on Cho, try this baby out, it’s amazing,’ he said, resting the file on the arm. Grace shook her head when Cho joined Rigsby, the two of them smiling as they relaxed into the back of the couch.
Grace turned her attention to her work as she tried to search for motels on the routes out of Redding. She ignored the odd groan of approval from the so-called men as they relished in the comfort of the couch.
‘What’s going on in here?’ asked Lisbon, her voice growing in volume from the other side of the room. Cho and Rigsby stood up quickly and Grace followed suit.
‘Nothing, Boss,’ said Rigsby, rushing to his desk with the case file under his arm.
‘Like hell it’s nothing, why were you sitting on Jane’s couch?’
‘We just wanted to see what it was like.’ Cho stepped forward with a weak smile as Lisbon stood with crossed arms and a painful grimace.
‘Don’t ever do that again…and get some work done.’
‘Yes, Boss,’ Cho and Rigsby said in unison as Lisbon disappeared back out of the office.
xxx
After a long day visiting various motels around Redding, Cho left the office with Elise whilst Rigsby disappeared early in preparation for a date. Van Pelt sat at her desk doing a final search for additional motels and camping sites with the hope of finding something new to go off.
‘What are you still doing here?’ asked Lisbon, appearing beside her as she slipped a bag over her shoulder.
‘Nearly done, Boss,’ said Van Pelt, forcing a smile.
‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
She nodded. The work she had left to do could wait, but her desire to be anywhere except in her apartment could not. Finally, she closed down her computer and packed up her belongings ready to leave. The building was quiet, almost silent except for the janitor’s keys clinking together as he walked the corridors. She stood where she’d been several hours earlier, staring at the couch with furrowed eyebrows. The leather cushions looked more worn than they had earlier that day, if it was at all possible. It looked sad. She walked over and ran a hand along the arm, the smooth fabric left its imprint on her hand.
‘What’s so special?’ she asked to no one in particular, unless you counted the couch. It felt wrong at first but as she sunk into the cushions, her actions suddenly felt like the most natural thing on Earth. She kicked off her shoes, something she’d never done at work before, and rested her legs up on the opposite arm. She closed her eyes. For a moment, her whole world disappeared around her and all she could feel and smell and touch was the smooth fabric of the couch beneath her. All that mattered in that moment was being there, alone with her thoughts; thoughts which previously consumed her, yet somehow lessened as she gave in to the comfort of the seat.
‘No wonder Jane loved you.’
A couple of hours later and Van Pelt woke to a darkened office and the janitor stood over her with a grimace. His hands rested on his hips and he shook his head, causing the extra layers of his skin to wobble along with it.
‘Good job I checked one more time, ain’t it lady?’ he said, tapping his foot on the floor.
‘Sorry, I must have fallen asleep.’ She stood up, slipped her feet into her shoes, even if her haste did push down the backs in an irreparable manner and carried her bag out towards the elevator.
She wouldn’t sleep for the rest of the night, she knew that much. She’d barely slept for days, weeks even; except on the sofa. Something about it made it easy to forget her problems and think only of the act of dozing. She considered the amount of excuses Lisbon made about Jane and his sleep troubles and here she was faced with similar problems, thankful that in her hour of need Jane’s couch was there, possessionless, in need of an owner. Not that she’d let Cho or Rigsby in on her escapade, of course.