*Lunaris is Latin and means "...of the moon."
Okay. Here is part one:
From an anonymous prompt at Mentalist KINK: "Jane and Lisbon, swimming in the nude in the ocean at night, bonus point, pretty please with cherry on top plus virtual hugs, for sex in the water/on the seaside..."
I decided to make this at a lake and not the ocean. Ocean waves are too tumultuous for the scenes I wanted.
"God, this is boring." Van Pelt griped for the tenth time about the trip to the lake and their forced stay at the hotel. At any other time she would have been grateful for the diversion from computers and phones but this was a case and because there was no internet service and no currently working phone, Lisbon had her on prisoner duty which meant sitting in the same room with a hand-cuffed suspect to make sure he didn't go anywhere.
Rigsby sympathised but he for one was enjoying spending a little down time with his former red-headed love interest. "I know, but we can watch a show and order room service. I think the kitchen is still open."
"In this dump?" Van Pelt answered, not convinced. "Besides, the TV only gets three channels up here. Haven't these guys heard of satellite? It's only everywhere on the planet."
Rigsby put down the old fashioned black dial phone. "Still not working. I'm going to go check on dinner possibilities."
While Rigsby excused himself to go check on the kitchen staff about food, Van Pelt amused herself by looking out the window into the night.
At least there was a full moon. In fact it had a rusty haze look about it. On the surface of the perfectly calm lake through the thin swath of pine she could see its reflection on the water. It was beautiful and there was no one to share it with except for a possible murderer snoring on the rooms only bed and Rigsby who could only think about his stomach.
There was a knock at the door. Van Pelt opened it and Jane stuck his head in. "Hey, wanna' come down to the lake?" He asked, a glint of fun in his eye. "There's a lunar eclipse tonight. It's gorgeous."
Van Pelt crossed her arms, grumpier now than ever. She tossed a frown back over her shoulder to the prisoner. "Can't. Lisbon's got me on snoring jerk duty."
Jane looked passed her to the sleeping suspect. "Oh, right. I forgot – sorry." He smiled and it only made Van Pelt madder.
Once Jane was gone she muttered "Sure. Spoilt consultant gets to do whatever he wants."
But Jane was right. It would be so nice to go out and walk along the lakeshore and watch the moon as it rolled across the sky.
Van Pelt remembered she had the CBI issue binoculars in her bag. Pulling them out and adjusting them to her eyes she stepped out onto the balcony and looked toward the moon. Jane was right. Through the powerful Sixty-Time digital zoom set on forty, it seemed as big as a mountain and hauntingly beautiful.
Movement, too, was there in the binoculars vision, and Van Pelt dropped them away to give her eyes a rest, trying to see what it was with her natural vision.
Something in the water, splashing around. Not a bear because it wasn't brown or black. In fact it appeared to be white. Looking through her glass devise again Van Pelt zoomed in until the thing, whatever, it was, came into focus. She caught a glimpse of a white backside before it disappeared under the inky water.
Van Pelt frowned, not sure what she had seen and kept looking until whatever it was resurfaced, shaking the water from its hair. It was a person, a man, out for a midnight swim. A blonde man if she was seeing the details correctly. A naked blonde man.
It was Jane.
Van Pelt swiftly dropped the binoculars from her eyes, feeling guilty for accidently voyeuring Jane in the nude. She bit her lip and turned away, got sight of her snoring, hairy and unattractive prisoner splayed out on the bed, and then turned back, raising the glasses to her eyes once more, only the tiniest twinge of conscience berating her for spying on her naked colleague.
Jane surfaced once more, leaping from the water like an otter and diving under again. Jane appeared to be having the time of his life while she was stuck in a room with an ugly man drooling in slumber.
She dropped the glasses once more and turned away. It wasn't fair. She could be out there having fun with Jane – she could be out there with Jane – near Jane – swimming in the same lake with Jane – but instead she was stuck inside with nothing but her imagination.
Plus a pair of really good binoculars.
Van Pelt raised them to her eyes again, this time resting her elbows on the balcony ledge to steady her hands. There. That made a huge difference. She checked the zoom and realised she had another Twenty Times zoom left. Adjusting them accordingly, Van Pelt never took her eyes off Jane as she zoned in on him, the binoculars to their maximum setting.
Jane was now wading around in the shallower part, nearer the shore, and Van Pelt swallowed reflexively, subconsciously licking her lips. Jane was smooth, nearly hairless and delightful toned. Muscled and fit from his shoulders to his calves. He was clearly not a man who enjoyed the tanning beds at the CBI gym because his skin positively glowed, as white as a new dime, even in the rusty moonlight. Van Pelt felt her heart speed up as she took in a few other details the extra twenty zoom had afforded her. Jane, nicely cut – her preference, was she decided hung fairly average but it was a very, very pleasing looking average. Van Pelt knew Jane was over forty but physically, if what she was seeing was any indication of what she might see up close and personal, the blonde could easily pass for thirty.
All-in-all, her colleague of the dainty tea cups, waist-coats, fancy green salads and chocolate cravings was, in this unguarded, naked-as-a-jaybird moment, pretty damn hot.
It was weird to see Jane in this way. Up until that moment, she had never thought of Jane as anything other than just, well, Jane. Jane was the guy who poked at you, sometimes to distraction, until he got what he wanted. The guy with the tricks-a-plenty up his sleeve and the lies that rolled off his tongue with the ease of life-long nurture and, she often wondered, nature. The guy who asked for candy from strangers and occasionally hugged or even kissed his boss's cheeks as though it were the normal thing to do; as though everyone did it. She often wondered if Minnelli had received one of those impromptu pecks on the cheek – or Bertram!
But this Jane, this was another side of him she had never encountered.
The door opened suddenly making Van Pelt nearly leap out of her skin. Dropping the binoculars to the balcony wicker chair, she stepped back in the hotel room in time to see Rigsby step carefully over to the room's sole table. Setting down a tray of Styrofoam containers - "They had fried chicken and potatoes with gravy." he explained helpfully. "You hungry?"
Van Pelt wrinkled her nose. She was, but not for food. "Not really." She had a great idea. "I think Cho was looking for munchies earlier." She offered with a smile. "Why don't you go see if he wants some chicken?"
Rigsby's face fell.
The image of naked Jane floated before her eyes and another idea swiftly entered her thoughts. Van Pelt hastened to correct Rigsby's misinterpretation of her suggestion. "I'm not trying to get rid of you, I'm just not hungry. Give Cho my portion, and hurry back."
"What's going on?' He asked.
Anxious to get back to the outside view - "Nothing, just hurry it up."
Once Rigsby was out of the room, Van Pelt took up the binoculars once more, chastising herself. "You're pathetic, Van Pelt. You've sunk to a new low. You're actually spying on your colleagues' hot body." Van Pelt knew she would feel ashamed of herself in the morning.
But she didn't drop the binoculars.
More Van Pelt/Rigsby plus the sexy Jane Lisbon stuff are coming up in Part 2. :D
*Lunaris is Latin and means "...of the moon."