Christmas Eve - The Mentalist - One Shot

Quarantine

"Bad news." Lisbon looked from one to the other. "That was a call from the health department. Until we get our test results, we all  quarantined."

"Oh nooo," Van Pelt grumbled, casting a furtive glance over at Rigsby, who was stuffing a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.

"Whafff? Iff fffifff a fffoke?!" he shouted.

"Hey, keep your crumbs away from me. Or do I have to explain to a grown man what manners are?" Cho cast an annoyed glance across the desk.

"Sorry," Lisbon countered, "Jane got us into this. I explained to him a thousand times that he had to wear the mask. But he wouldn't listen."

"Well, that's his problem. Not ours."

"I can understand your displeasure. That's why I'll keep my explanation short and sweet: on our last case, he kissed the murder victim's wife."

Rigsby, who had just tried out how many cookies he could stuff into his mouth at once, uttered a surprised sound. He wanted to say something about it, but the cookies prevented him from doing so.

"Rigs, if you have something to say, spit it out. But swallow first."

Shaking her head, she watched as he turned bright red and began to choke. Grace rushed to his aid with a glass of water.

"Well, anyway, please keep the info to yourself. I promised to keep it between Jane and me."

"Where is Jane, anyway?" interjected Cho.

"Probably in the attic, he can remain there for all I care," Lisbon replied sourly. "I'll leave it up to you what you make of the order. You can either go home or stay here."

For herself, quarantine suited her. She would barricade herself at home with a bottle of red wine and pizza anyway.

"But among ourselves, we're allowed to have contact, right?" Rigsby, meanwhile, had caught his breath.

"Although caution is advised, it could be that only Jane is ill. As long as the physical contact doesn't go beyond normal social interactions, I don't see a problem. Do I make myself clear?" She underscored her statement with a meaningful look that traveled first to Rigsby and then to Van Pelt.

"Um, yeah, of course, all right boss. We, um, I got it." But he couldn't hide the longing look to Van Pelt.

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Van Pelt, that means you, too."

The latter blushed slightly. "Hmm, yeah, I get it."

"Who's going to go upstairs and give Jane the message now?"

She had been extremely unhappy with her consultant ever since the last case. His behavior this time was the straw that broke the camel's back. He simply knew no limits and always managed to top the unthinkable.

"If no one volunteers, I'll appoint someone," she continued gruffly.

"All right, I'll go," Grace agreed, and set off toward the attic.

Outside the large, heavy wooden door, she stopped for a while and listened. Nothing to hear. Was he even there?

"Van Pelt, come in. Lisbon sent you. Am I right?"

"Damn, where ...?" she pushed open the door and stepped into the sparsely lit room. Jane lay on his cot, staring at the ceiling.

"Then you know why I'm here?"

"Is it about the last case? If you come upstairs to see me, it must be pretty important."

"We're all in quarantine," she informed him curtly, and turned back. She didn't want to put herself in the middle with what she knew.

"Wait, Grace. She told you."

"Um, told what? Hesitantly, she turned to him again.

"About the kiss."

"You know, it's none of my business. I gave you the message. Anything else, you should take up with Lisbon."

"That's all right. Go ahead," he sighed, "I really messed up there. I guess a simple apology won't do this time."

Irritated, she looked at him. What was going on? He wasn't usually like this. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, you need to know that. We're just deciding if we're all going to stay until the test results come in, or if we're going to go home."

"Everyone home alone? Is that what you want Grace?" he grinned at her.

"Oh, Jane. Stop grinning. You got us into all this. I actually wanted to see my family and I'm sure the others had something nice planned too."

"I'm sorry," Jane replied meekly, "Christmas was always supposed to be about family. But aren't we kind of like family, too?"

Van Pelt rolled her eyes and now left the attic for good.

"So, how did he react to that?" asked Lisbon Grace upon her return.

"He has a guilty conscience."

"He should have, he's not going to get away with it so easily this time."

"What do we do now?"

"Well, I'm going home," Lisbon replied. She already had her jacket on and was about to leave.

"Lisbon, please don't do that," she heard a voice behind her.

"Was there a noise just then?" She pretended to listen. "No, I must have misheard."

Walking quickly, she passed Jane, heading for the elevator.

"Lisbon!", Patrick hurried after her, squeezing into the elevator just in time to join her.