Fic: Fade to Black Pt 3 - Whiter Shade of Pale [The Mentalist]
Title: Fade to Black Pt 3 - Whiter Shade of Pale
Summary: Jane tries to reach Van Pelt after the events of 'Bloodshot'. Post episode 1x16.
Rating: T
Characters: Jane, Van Pelt
She stayed away from the office for three days.
Rigsby was on medical leave. Cho grumbled about being left with all the paperwork while Lisbon farmed out cases to other teams. No one mentioned Van Pelt to explain her absence. No one had to. But Jane couldn't let it go.
"Did you talk to her this morning?" he asked, poking his head inside Lisbon's office. She didn't bother looking up from her work.
"Leave it alone, Jane."
"You should talk to her. You know, woman to woman. Let her know it's not her fault Dan Hollenbeck wooed his way into her life in order to kill me. She isn't responsible for Rigsby's injuries. He's being waited on hand and foot by his mother and probably having the time of his life."
"She'll be back in a couple of days," Lisbon said, glancing up at him. She kept some of the exasperation from her tone when she saw Jane's puppy dog eyes. "Why don't you call her, if you're so worried?"
"I totaled her car."
"And damaged a few others. Including mine," Lisbon reminded him.
"She won't want to talk to me." The heaviness in Jane's voice caused her to pay more attention. Lisbon narrowed her eyes slightly and didn't miss the look that flashed across his face, like he'd been caught. He shrugged off the door jamb and disappeared into the main office.
Jane took up residence on the couch, but his mind was restless. There were no cases to distract him, no friendly team bickering to amuse him. Cho had already rebuked any conversation he tried to start and the sight of Rigsby and Van Pelt's empty chairs only served to darken his mood.
There was nothing keeping him there. Lisbon was too busy with work to notice his absence. Cho would probably welcome it. But Jane had nowhere else to go, at least nowhere that would offer any solace.
With a decisive grunt he pushed himself up. It couldn't hurt. He was concerned about her. If Lisbon wasn't going to confront her then he would just have to do it himself.
0 0 0 0
He knew she would be at home. No running back to mom and dad in Iowa to escape what had happened. That wasn't Van Pelt. But he hadn't expected her to take time off work either. He knew she was mortified that she'd allowed Dan Hollenbeck into their world, embarrassed that she'd been duped. But Jane was surprised that she appeared to be having trouble facing them. He didn't like it when Van Pelt surprised him.
She answered the door after his first knock, appeared fully dressed and groomed - no unwashed hair and three day old pajamas for Grace Van Pelt. Her face showed no emotion upon seeing him, which he had to give her credit for.
"I got my sight back," he said by way of hello. He followed it with a bright smile.
"I see that," she replied evenly.
"I just thought I'd stop by and mention it, seeing as how you haven't been at work. I guessed you maybe hadn't heard."
She exhaled audibly. "Lisbon told me."
"She did? Good. I'm glad."
Van Pelt's fingers curled around the edge of the door. She made no move to invite him in. She just waited until he spoke again.
"Rigsby's fine, too."
"What do you want, Jane?" Her patience had run out. There was no warmth in her voice and Jane didn't like it.
"I think you should come back to work," he said with all sincerity.
"I will. I'll be back soon."
"I think you should come back now."
Van Pelt's mouth tightened. She thought better of what she was going to say and remained silent.
"Can I use your bathroom?" he asked, brightening.
She couldn't hide the quirk of her lips. "That's pretty lame, Jane."
"What are you talking about? I have to go."
"You just want to see inside my apartment. Look for clues. Look for anything so you can psychoanalyze me whenever you like. Whenever you're bored and looking to amuse yourself."
Jane's brow wrinkled at her accusatory tone. "I just have to use the bathroom," he said quietly. He held her gaze until she looked down with a sigh.
"Fine," she replied, defeated.
Van Pelt stood back and allowed him to enter. He didn't make a show of looking around as she pointed to a doorway down the hall. His glances were more subtle, and he saw what he expected. Van Pelt was neat. Her décor was understated, even sparse, as if she had just moved in or spent little time there. There were family pictures on the bookshelf - frame after frame of smiling friends and relatives with their arms slung around each other's shoulders. A man holding up a fish in a clichéd pose. A wedding party. If he didn't know better he would swear they were the photos that came with the frames. Perfect moments in time.
He looked at himself in her bathroom mirror as he hunched over the sink to wash his hands. Stared deep into his own eyes as he had done so often since regaining his sight. Ignored the voice in his head that challenged him on what he was doing there. He was just checking on a colleague, he answered silently.
Jane lingered briefly, resisting the temptation to open her medicine cabinet. That would be cliché, he decided. There would be no surprises there. He wandered back into the living room to find Van Pelt standing there waiting for him, her arms crossed over her chest. She met his steady gaze, her face devoid of emotion once more.
"Better?" she asked.
"Yes, thank you." He stared at her, and it became a silent battle. She was waiting for him to start looking around the room, to put his observation skills and brilliant memory to use. He steadfastly refused to give her the satisfaction of predicting his behavior.
"Why aren't you at work?" she asked eventually and he knew he'd won that round.
"Nothing to do. No new case yet," he replied with a small shrug.
"When's Rigsby due back?"
"Not for another week. There's never been so much food in the kitchen."
Another small smile was her response, but he'd yet to see any real emotion on her face. He wondered when Van Pelt had gotten so good at hiding her feelings. She was usually an open book for him. There was no hidden agenda. No games. Unlike him. But this new empty façade perplexed Jane. It was a puzzle, and this time he couldn't help himself.
"Have you spoken to anyone? About Dan?" he probed, and the calm, experienced Jane persona was in full swing.
Van Pelt's arms drew in a little tighter. "I gave Lisbon my report."
"I don't mean just what happened that night."
"I know what you meant, Jane," she said coldly.
"If you want, you could talk to me."
She smirked. "Why would I want to do that?"
"Because..." Jane stopped. They weren't just colleagues. They weren't quite friends. They'd been more than that for a brief moment - something he chose not to think about but it was harder to ignore as she glared at him. "Sometimes it helps to talk," he said instead.
"Hypocrite."
Van Pelt walked over to her breakfast counter and kept her back to him, busying her hands by arranging a stack of catalogues.
"Okay, you got me there," he said lightly, hoping to steer the conversation into sunnier territory.
But when Van Pelt turned around a few moments later none of the anger had left her.
"Just because what happened between us… happened, doesn't mean you know me, Jane."
His eyes sought the floor. "I know that."
"Then why did you say those things to me? About my past? Were you trying to hurt me?"
"No," he said, looking up. He felt a pang of guilt. It had partly been a guess, the rest he suspected from the way she'd quickly left the hotel room a couple of months earlier. She'd shut down faster than he had after their impromptu coupling, and had never brought it up again. Not directly. Jane got the impression he even thought about it more than she did.
"I'm sorry," he said gently. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."
She wasn't letting him off so easily. "You go on about Rigsby's feelings for me, you ask all those questions about Dan. Insisting you wanted to meet him. Why? You didn't suspect him of anything then. You just wanted to pry. You're supposed to be intuitive. Did it never occur to you that I don't want to discuss these things with you?"
Van Pelt pressed her lips together, as if forcing herself to shut up lest she give more away. From the look on her face Jane could tell she wished she hadn't said that much in the first place.
He took a step towards her. "Grace..."
Her eyes flashed at the sound of her first name and she flushed with emotion. "You should go," she said, biting the inside of one cheek.
Jane hesitated. He didn't want to leave, which surprised him most of all. In situations like these he was quick to run, to make his escape. He didn't want the emotional engagement. He didn't want the memories of his family which were so quick to surface if he allowed them.
But Van Pelt was staring hard at him again and he found himself backing away, giving her what she asked. He waited as she opened the door for him.
"You'll be back in a couple of days?" he murmured, pausing next to her as he exited.
She looked up and met his eyes, her face only inches from his, then nodded.
"Good." He took a few steps outside and glanced back. "I'm sorry about banging up your car."
She was stunned into silence for a moment, not expecting the comment. Then the façade returned. "I was always lousy at giving directions," she joked darkly.
He smiled at her attempt at humor - at her attempt to put him at ease. Van Pelt was still in there somewhere.
"I'll see you soon," he said.
"Apparently so," she replied. After only a brief pause she closed the door.
Part 1
Part 2
Summary: Jane tries to reach Van Pelt after the events of 'Bloodshot'. Post episode 1x16.
Rating: T
Characters: Jane, Van Pelt
She stayed away from the office for three days.
Rigsby was on medical leave. Cho grumbled about being left with all the paperwork while Lisbon farmed out cases to other teams. No one mentioned Van Pelt to explain her absence. No one had to. But Jane couldn't let it go.
"Did you talk to her this morning?" he asked, poking his head inside Lisbon's office. She didn't bother looking up from her work.
"Leave it alone, Jane."
"You should talk to her. You know, woman to woman. Let her know it's not her fault Dan Hollenbeck wooed his way into her life in order to kill me. She isn't responsible for Rigsby's injuries. He's being waited on hand and foot by his mother and probably having the time of his life."
"She'll be back in a couple of days," Lisbon said, glancing up at him. She kept some of the exasperation from her tone when she saw Jane's puppy dog eyes. "Why don't you call her, if you're so worried?"
"I totaled her car."
"And damaged a few others. Including mine," Lisbon reminded him.
"She won't want to talk to me." The heaviness in Jane's voice caused her to pay more attention. Lisbon narrowed her eyes slightly and didn't miss the look that flashed across his face, like he'd been caught. He shrugged off the door jamb and disappeared into the main office.
Jane took up residence on the couch, but his mind was restless. There were no cases to distract him, no friendly team bickering to amuse him. Cho had already rebuked any conversation he tried to start and the sight of Rigsby and Van Pelt's empty chairs only served to darken his mood.
There was nothing keeping him there. Lisbon was too busy with work to notice his absence. Cho would probably welcome it. But Jane had nowhere else to go, at least nowhere that would offer any solace.
With a decisive grunt he pushed himself up. It couldn't hurt. He was concerned about her. If Lisbon wasn't going to confront her then he would just have to do it himself.
0 0 0 0
He knew she would be at home. No running back to mom and dad in Iowa to escape what had happened. That wasn't Van Pelt. But he hadn't expected her to take time off work either. He knew she was mortified that she'd allowed Dan Hollenbeck into their world, embarrassed that she'd been duped. But Jane was surprised that she appeared to be having trouble facing them. He didn't like it when Van Pelt surprised him.
She answered the door after his first knock, appeared fully dressed and groomed - no unwashed hair and three day old pajamas for Grace Van Pelt. Her face showed no emotion upon seeing him, which he had to give her credit for.
"I got my sight back," he said by way of hello. He followed it with a bright smile.
"I see that," she replied evenly.
"I just thought I'd stop by and mention it, seeing as how you haven't been at work. I guessed you maybe hadn't heard."
She exhaled audibly. "Lisbon told me."
"She did? Good. I'm glad."
Van Pelt's fingers curled around the edge of the door. She made no move to invite him in. She just waited until he spoke again.
"Rigsby's fine, too."
"What do you want, Jane?" Her patience had run out. There was no warmth in her voice and Jane didn't like it.
"I think you should come back to work," he said with all sincerity.
"I will. I'll be back soon."
"I think you should come back now."
Van Pelt's mouth tightened. She thought better of what she was going to say and remained silent.
"Can I use your bathroom?" he asked, brightening.
She couldn't hide the quirk of her lips. "That's pretty lame, Jane."
"What are you talking about? I have to go."
"You just want to see inside my apartment. Look for clues. Look for anything so you can psychoanalyze me whenever you like. Whenever you're bored and looking to amuse yourself."
Jane's brow wrinkled at her accusatory tone. "I just have to use the bathroom," he said quietly. He held her gaze until she looked down with a sigh.
"Fine," she replied, defeated.
Van Pelt stood back and allowed him to enter. He didn't make a show of looking around as she pointed to a doorway down the hall. His glances were more subtle, and he saw what he expected. Van Pelt was neat. Her décor was understated, even sparse, as if she had just moved in or spent little time there. There were family pictures on the bookshelf - frame after frame of smiling friends and relatives with their arms slung around each other's shoulders. A man holding up a fish in a clichéd pose. A wedding party. If he didn't know better he would swear they were the photos that came with the frames. Perfect moments in time.
He looked at himself in her bathroom mirror as he hunched over the sink to wash his hands. Stared deep into his own eyes as he had done so often since regaining his sight. Ignored the voice in his head that challenged him on what he was doing there. He was just checking on a colleague, he answered silently.
Jane lingered briefly, resisting the temptation to open her medicine cabinet. That would be cliché, he decided. There would be no surprises there. He wandered back into the living room to find Van Pelt standing there waiting for him, her arms crossed over her chest. She met his steady gaze, her face devoid of emotion once more.
"Better?" she asked.
"Yes, thank you." He stared at her, and it became a silent battle. She was waiting for him to start looking around the room, to put his observation skills and brilliant memory to use. He steadfastly refused to give her the satisfaction of predicting his behavior.
"Why aren't you at work?" she asked eventually and he knew he'd won that round.
"Nothing to do. No new case yet," he replied with a small shrug.
"When's Rigsby due back?"
"Not for another week. There's never been so much food in the kitchen."
Another small smile was her response, but he'd yet to see any real emotion on her face. He wondered when Van Pelt had gotten so good at hiding her feelings. She was usually an open book for him. There was no hidden agenda. No games. Unlike him. But this new empty façade perplexed Jane. It was a puzzle, and this time he couldn't help himself.
"Have you spoken to anyone? About Dan?" he probed, and the calm, experienced Jane persona was in full swing.
Van Pelt's arms drew in a little tighter. "I gave Lisbon my report."
"I don't mean just what happened that night."
"I know what you meant, Jane," she said coldly.
"If you want, you could talk to me."
She smirked. "Why would I want to do that?"
"Because..." Jane stopped. They weren't just colleagues. They weren't quite friends. They'd been more than that for a brief moment - something he chose not to think about but it was harder to ignore as she glared at him. "Sometimes it helps to talk," he said instead.
"Hypocrite."
Van Pelt walked over to her breakfast counter and kept her back to him, busying her hands by arranging a stack of catalogues.
"Okay, you got me there," he said lightly, hoping to steer the conversation into sunnier territory.
But when Van Pelt turned around a few moments later none of the anger had left her.
"Just because what happened between us… happened, doesn't mean you know me, Jane."
His eyes sought the floor. "I know that."
"Then why did you say those things to me? About my past? Were you trying to hurt me?"
"No," he said, looking up. He felt a pang of guilt. It had partly been a guess, the rest he suspected from the way she'd quickly left the hotel room a couple of months earlier. She'd shut down faster than he had after their impromptu coupling, and had never brought it up again. Not directly. Jane got the impression he even thought about it more than she did.
"I'm sorry," he said gently. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."
She wasn't letting him off so easily. "You go on about Rigsby's feelings for me, you ask all those questions about Dan. Insisting you wanted to meet him. Why? You didn't suspect him of anything then. You just wanted to pry. You're supposed to be intuitive. Did it never occur to you that I don't want to discuss these things with you?"
Van Pelt pressed her lips together, as if forcing herself to shut up lest she give more away. From the look on her face Jane could tell she wished she hadn't said that much in the first place.
He took a step towards her. "Grace..."
Her eyes flashed at the sound of her first name and she flushed with emotion. "You should go," she said, biting the inside of one cheek.
Jane hesitated. He didn't want to leave, which surprised him most of all. In situations like these he was quick to run, to make his escape. He didn't want the emotional engagement. He didn't want the memories of his family which were so quick to surface if he allowed them.
But Van Pelt was staring hard at him again and he found himself backing away, giving her what she asked. He waited as she opened the door for him.
"You'll be back in a couple of days?" he murmured, pausing next to her as he exited.
She looked up and met his eyes, her face only inches from his, then nodded.
"Good." He took a few steps outside and glanced back. "I'm sorry about banging up your car."
She was stunned into silence for a moment, not expecting the comment. Then the façade returned. "I was always lousy at giving directions," she joked darkly.
He smiled at her attempt at humor - at her attempt to put him at ease. Van Pelt was still in there somewhere.
"I'll see you soon," he said.
"Apparently so," she replied. After only a brief pause she closed the door.
Part 1
Part 2