Three's a Crowd, Five's an Orgy Part 4

[oroburos69]

Title: Three’s a Crowd, Five’s an Orgy
Beta: lady_of_scarlet
Groupings: Grace/Rigsby/Jane, Grace/Rigsby/Cho, Cho/Lisbon, Grace/Rigsby, Grace/Jane, Rigsby/Jane, Lisbon/Grace/Rigsby, Lisbon/Grace/Jane, Lisbon/Cho/Jane/Grace/Rigsby, Lisbon/Jane
Team!
Summary: “Do you really think that seducing Jane into having a threesome with us so that we can blackmail him into not blackmailing us will make him less lonely?” –Wayne Rigby
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~25000 words
Warnings:More OOC than perhaps it ought to be. Smut. Unrepentant smut. Spoilers for 2x11 to 2x13.
Disclaimer: The show will never go in this direction, and my lack of acceptance for this has led to my rambling night-time fantasies taking over. Forgive me, CBS.
A/N: You have my apologies, good people. This is going up much slower than expected due to the fact that I just moved, and have severely curtailed internet access.
Part 1

Part 2 
Part 3

---

“So, hey, an environmentalist?” Rigsby asked, fidgeting with his pen. He looked up at Grace through lowered lashes, blinking a little nervously. Cho had smelled like her soap, and that was actually a little awkward now that Cho wasn’t naked—

And sexy. Surprisingly so. He must do a lot of core exercises and cardio, because there wasn’t an ounce of body fat on him and his abs were damn fine. Yep. Cho was all lean, lickable edges, and grooves in between bulging muscles. Tawny skin—

Rigsby paled. Had he just referred to Cho’s skin as tawny? He watched Cho through the glass windows of Lisbon’s office, losing track of his conversation with Grace.

--Oh yes, tawny skin, smooth and silky, looking perfect next to Grace’s milky white limbs, as they tangled artistically on a bearskin rug, bared flesh glowing with the faintest gleam of sweat. Cho would touch her, and she would make that adorable little squeaky sigh that she made when she was pleased. They’d know he was watching, and…

“Yeah. It was actually kind of weird,” Grace mused, a sly smirk crossing her lips as she followed his gaze to Cho. “The group claimed responsibility, but Jane doesn’t think they did it.”

“Well who does he think did it?” Rigsby murmured quietly.

“You know he won’t say.”

Not without suitable incentive. Sexy incentive. Yeah.

The siren wail of saxophones rose from the depths of Rigsby’s imagination.

Bow-chica-bow-wow.

Jane was chained to the wall, looking wonderfully debauched, his vest unbuttoned and hanging loosely over his rumpled shirt, his jacket pulled up around his wrists like a second pair of manacles. Rigsby walked toward him, meeting the defiant expression on Jane’s face with a cool and collected one of his own.

“You are employed here for one reason, and one reason only,” Lisbon’s voice echoed from behind him, calm, detached, mildly interested. “Do I need to remind you of the consequences of not cooperating again?”

“At least once more,” Jane replied, licking his lips. His eyes raked over Rigsby, the unholy glee in them laying Rigsby bare.

“As you wish,” Lisbon muttered. Her shoes clicked on the flagstone floor, and she stopped right behind Rigsby. A small hand rested on his arm for a second. “You bring this on yourself,” she said clearly, her voice echoing through the dungeon. She sounded delighted by that fact, Rigsby noticed, watching Jane’s face soften with amusement.

“Yes. I’m a bad man,” Jane replied. He laughed quietly, meeting Rigsby’s eyes. Rigsby shuddered, eye contact with was Jane as intimate as sex with Grace. “Aren’t I, Rigsby? I’m just horrible,” he cooed, voice dwindling to a purr. “You’ve got me tied down. Helpless.” Jane grinned cheerfully. “At your mercy, at your pleasure.”

A surge of desire poured through Rigsby’s belly at Jane’s words, his mouth suddenly drier than the Sahara.

“Anyway, I was thinking, that as successful as getting Cho drunk was—” Grace was cut off.

“You got Cho drunk?” Jane asked, appearing behind her like a mortifying specter of embarrassment. “Oh! Was it last night?” he asked them. He paused, thinking. “I thought you all had dates last night?”

Rigsby tried hard to keep from hyperventilating. Jane knew. He would blackmail them again, but maybe there would be tea and a bead of honey on Jane’s hand that he’d have to lick off. And then—the oral sex. Rigsby choked at the image—

Jane ordered him up against the wall, devil’s grin firmly in place. Rigsby’s pants were shoved down around his knees, exposing him to anyone who might come into the break room. He glanced up anxiously, watching the door.

Jane sighed and pinched the thin skin on Rigsby’s inner thigh to get his attention. He held up the plastic beehive, waggling it. “Pour some sugar on you?”

The film crew zoomed in on their conversation, the soft whirl of the camera lens audible. Jane stiffened, suddenly looking irritable. Rigsby quietly freaked out some more, because now their threesome tendencies would be exposed on TV (Pervert CBI Agents, more at eleven!), and he was pretty sure that his mother was going to watch it and Rigsby hadn’t even told her about Grace yet. And he was sort of hoping to avoid telling her that he’d had a drunken one night stand with his co-workers, plural.

“No, I made pie for dessert.” Grace corrected Jane, signaling Rigsby to calm down. He took a steadying breath. “Dates are rather old fashioned as a dessert,” she confided earnestly.

“What kind of pie?” Jane asked. He looked at Rigsby with slight suspicion. “Why were you—?”

“Apple.” Grace answered. “It’s Cho’s favorite.”

“Hmm.” Jane tilted his head like an oversized bird sizing up its prey. “I like apple pie.” He made eye contact with Grace, and Rigsby wasn’t sure what passed between them, but Jane smiled and wandered over toward his couch, humming quietly.

The blinds in Lisbon’s office twitched shut, swaying back and forth. The movement drew their attention, and Jane edged back toward Rigsby’s desk to get a better view. Grace clutched Rigsby’s arm, watching the window.

The door opened and Cho walked out. He shrugged in response to Rigsby’s inquiring glance, and Grace’s raised eyebrow.

---

Lisbon stared at her office door. Did that really just happen?

She straightened the paperwork so it sat at right angles to the desk, doing her absolute best not to think about it. Not thinking about it at all.

Cho lay back on her desk, giving in to her demands, obeying the orders she gave with her hands. Lisbon giggled, muffling the sound by yanking his shirt open, sending buttons flying. She ran her hands over his bared chest, twisting his nipples hard.

Cho moaned for her, and she smiled. He was hers, all hers.

Yes. Not thinking about it.

---

They were alone at last, workday done, film crew gone, co-workers left. Alone in the office,. together.

“So, what were you doing with Rigsby and Van Pelt last night?” Jane asked out of the blue, peering over the edge of his book.

“We had a couple of drinks and then I fell asleep on Van Pelt’s couch.” Cho continued working on his paper work, unfazed by random questioning.

“Rigsby said night out drinking and Parcheesi, Van Pelt said apple pie and dinner, you say drinks and sleeping on couch…” Jane paused for effect. “Someone is lying.”

“Yes,” Cho confirmed.

Jane pouted, and Cho smirked. “Well, who?” he inquired insistently.

“All of us,” Cho replied, as if the answer were obvious.

Jane shifted restlessly on the couch. “Details?” It came out as a whine.

Cho smiled. Jane’s curiosity had been aroused. Go team Cho! “The pie was fantastic.” He dumped the remainder of the files into his bottom drawer and got up to leave. “Good night.”

---

“Wayne, I think we should ask Jane out.”

“Like, on a date?”

“Yes,” Grace leaned back into the couch pillows, her feet resting in Rigsby’s lap. He was painting her toe nails a lovely shade of red. It tickled, but he got twitchy if she moved her toes, so Grace restrained herself.

“A date where we seduce him?” Rigsby asked, his concentration clearly on her toes, his brow creased.

“No, a date where we take him out for dinner, or maybe brunch.” Grace filed the sharp edges off her nails, smoothing the snags left by the nail clippers. “Maybe go to a movie.”

“Huh,” Rigsby grunted, and used paper towel to wipe up a tiny dot of misplaced nail polish on her toe. “So the ‘blackmail him to keep him from blackmailing us’ plan is off the table, and the ‘he looks so lonely’ plan is on?” he said the plan names in falsetto, grinning at her while he wiped excess polish off the brush.

Grace snorted and whacked him with a pillow. “Ass. The blackmail plan is on, the lonely plan is on, and so is the get him drunk and vulnerable plan.” Grace filed her nails a bit more. “Actually, maybe not the last one. It sounds a bit too much like date rape. Instead, we could go to the park and have a picnic. He could hypnotize the children.”

“And the sex?” Rigsby inquired, raising his eyebrows.

“Not when the children are watching.” Grace grinned, letting loose a maniacal laugh. “But then, when he least expects it, we shall pounce, leaping like lions on a wounded gazelle!”

“Surprise, sex!” Rigsby said, smiling back as Grace dissolved into giggles. Her foot twitched and he gripped her ankle to keep it still.

“Yeah, no.” She leaned into the couch pillow (freshly cleaned, and slightly damp, but significantly less crunchy than it had been that morning). “It should take him a while to figure out that we’re coming on to him—”

“—but this is Jane.”

Grace nodded. “And I told Cho to plant suspicions so that he’ll become interested in us. He probably won’t say anything, but if he does, we make like Bill Clinton and deny, deny, deny.”

“Really? Cho? And you want to lie about our intentions?” Rigsby said, obviously not pleased with the dishonesty.

“Yes, Cho. Coming from Cho, it should distract his focus enough that he doesn’t realize we’re hunting him until we’re ready to make our move.” Grace felt a little thrill from her plotting, and sighed happily.

“But what about when we actually try to get him in bed?”

“We tell him that we had been lying. Hopefully we will all be plastered, so it’ll be less like date rape, and more like drunken sex with co-workers.” She beamed at Rigsby. “Which is perfectly acceptable, as Cho can now attest.”

Rigsby blushed adorably, and let go of her ankle. “I’m done here, until they dry enough to do a second coat.”

Grace nodded and twisted to prop her feet up on the coffee table. She patted her lap. “Your turn!”

“Do you have to? The guys at the gym…”

“Tell them it drives your girlfriend wild.” Grace winked. “I’ll even make it be blue,” she said, grabbing a bottle of sparkly turquoise nail polish from the coffee table. “Blue’s masculine, right?”

Rigsby sighed and leaned back, lifting his feet onto her legs, putting his toes into her capable hands. “So are we adding him to our relationship?” he asked, not hiding his nervousness well enough to fool Grace.

“It really depends on him,” she mused out loud. “I mean, obviously, I think he’s adorable when I don’t think he’s evil, and you think he’s sexy even when you think he’s evil—”

“Hey!”

Grace raised her eyebrow.

Rigsby fidgeted uncomfortably. “Well, yeah, but—”

“I do too,” she reassured him. “I get really freaking ticked off at him, but Jane makes evil look fun and sexy, like the dark side in a yellow polka dot bikini.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Anyway, my point is, Jane is way too annoying for me to want him without you to back me up.” She smirked. “With you there, we can use flanking maneuvers.”

Rigsby still looked unconvinced.

Grace sighed and looked away. “I—uh—I sort of, maybe, kind of, sort of… loveyou. I guess.” She wiggled uncomfortably and focused on Rigsby’s toes. He had really nice toes, and the turquoise went well with his skin tone. “But I find Jane crazy sexy when he’s being smart. And I just… I want him, you know?” She hazarded a look up.

Rigsby looked like she had just given him a million dollars and a kitten. Grace blushed and shook her head so her hair hid her face. He cleared his throat. “I—uh—love you too, and I have to admit that Jane is fine. Good. I mean, yeah. I want him.” He was cherry colored too, which pleased Grace.

“Okay, so we both want him. And once we get him, I sort of want to keep him. Because I don’t know that a one night stand with Jane would actually fix anything.”

“Wouldn’t fix me wanting him,” Rigsby said.

“Or me. But most especially, it wouldn’t make him feel any less lonely.”

“True.”

They both went quiet, but the uncomfortable silence slowly morphed into a comfortable one, so it was alright. Grace painted Rigsby’s toenails a nice blue.

---

Lisbon thought hard about killing Jane. She had the gravesite planned, a good dozen different weapons hidden under her bed, and her acceptance speech ready for the Oscar she would win for pretending to grieve.

She never should have let him find out where she lived.

“—they’re up to something,” he muttered excitedly, the thrill of a mystery clear in his voice. “I don’t know what yet, but all three are lying to me about what they did last night.” He paced across her kitchen floor as he waited for the water he’d put on to boil.

“For crying out loud, Jane, why does it matter?” Lisbon growled, dearly wanting to hit him, just a little bit. Just enough to take the edge off.

“Because they’ve got a secret,” Jane said, like it should have been obvious. He pawed through her cupboards, looking for tea.

“It’s in the cupboard over the sink,” Lisbon told him sharply, as he came a little too close to her collection of novelty salt shakers. “And Jane, people have secrets. They all do.”

“Not from me, they don’t.”

Lisbon gripped the edge of the counter hard enough that her knuckles turned white and smiled, showing all of her teeth. “Jane, you need to learn how to let go. Knowing what they did last night is not important. At all. Do you understand?”

At least, it’s not important unless it explains what the hell Cho was thinking when he…

Lisbon accepted the mug of tea Jane handed her, frowning contemplatively.

“It is important, because I want to know,” Jane explained, taking the milk out of her fridge and pouring it into his cup.

“…You do have a point,” Lisbon acknowledged thoughtfully, thinking about Cho.

“I do?” Jane looked up, startled. He put the milk back. “Of course I do.” He looked at her warily.

“Oddly enough,” Lisbon added.

Jane ignored that. “So you’ll help me?”

“Do what?” Lisbon asked suspiciously.

“Bug their phones and homes.”

“Illegal,” Lisbon retorted, though secretly considering it.

“Okay,” Jane said, giving in way too fast. “How about a stake out?”

“Jane. No. I have to do stake outs for work. I’m not doing one to find out what my employees did last night. Besides, they did it last night. The stake out would be belated.”

“You could make this easier, you know.”

“So could you.”

They grinned at each other across steaming mugs of tea, both comfortable (and, truth be told, delighting) in their obstinacy.

“Do you have a better plan?” Jane asked, managing to sip his tea without his grin diminishing at all. Not even slurping, Lisbon noticed in admiration.

“Wait for an opportunity, catch one alone, and force them to talk?” Lisbon thought for a moment. “Not Cho. If we try to get him to talk, it won’t work.” She suppressed the blush that threatened to rise.

“Oh.” Jane considered that for a moment. “That’s very… unsubtle.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Hypnotize Rigsby. He’s a soft touch, it’ll take me ten seconds, tops,” Jane replied enthusiastically, waving his hand to illustrate.

“You don’t get to hypnotize my team,” Lisbon snapped. “Unless I say you can,” she added, knowing a situation might come up in the future where that would, in fact, be necessary.

Jane pouted. “I don’t see you being a font of wisdom here.”

“I made a suggestion. You shot it down.”

“Because it wouldn’t work.”

“It would too. Van Pelt would fold like a wet paper bag,” Lisbon sipped the hot tea, sniffing derisively.

“She would not.” Jane frowned. “She’s stronger than that. And so is Rigsby.”

“Got a crush?” Lisbon snarked, feeling rather put out because Jane was right. They’d just lie some more, and know that they were on to them.

“Huh? No. Of course not.” Jane twisted his wedding ring meaningfully, giving her his patented sad look.

Lisbon rolled her eyes. “Of course not,” she mocked. “What is it about them? You barely even looked at Rigsby until Van Pelt showed up, and then suddenly you’re practically stalking both of them.”

“Grace is special,” Jane muttered, scowling. “And they’re cute together.”

“God, you’re such a voyeur. And you know the department regulations. I don’t want to hear about it.”

“Shoving your head in the sand?”

“Damn straight. Though if Rigsby calls Van Pelt ‘Grace’ in front of me again, I’m going make you do something horribly embarrassing to him… you know… again.”

“Moi?”

“You’re the bad guy, didn’t you know?” Lisbon said, feeling rather wicked.

“If only they knew…” Jane had a gleeful glint in his eye. “But really, we need to figure this out. We can’t let them have secrets, they’ll get ideas.”

“What if we just keep an eye on them and eavesdrop as best we can?”

“If you want to be completely pedestrian about it.” Jane sighed. “But it would work, and be less work than anything but hypnotizing Rigsby.” He sipped his tea thoughtfully.

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!”

“I know I’m going to say no.”

“You, my dear, are absolutely no fun at all. None. You are anti-fun.”

“Who let you use Rigsby last week?” she snapped back. Lisbon hesitated, and then added, “To solve the case.”

Jane didn’t meet her eyes for a moment, and she felt a sneaking, horrible suspicion.

Jane should be mocking—

“You did.” Jane said abruptly, smiling. “And have I thanked you for your generosity?” He left the slightest pause between ‘your’ and ‘generosity,’, and Lisbon glared at him.

“No, actually, you haven’t.” Lisbon forced herself to stay calm. As much as Jane tended to abuse the my wife is deeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaad thing to get out of awkward, sexually charged situations, most of which he created, Jane really wouldn’t sleep with anyone. So her suspicions were stupid, and she should bury them in the sand with her head.

“Well, thank you.” He drank from his tea rather than tease her.

Lisbon paled. It was worse than she’d thought. “We’re agreed then? Opportunistic stalking?” she said, trying to distract herself as she feverishly buried her suspicions.

“I suppose.” Jane finished his tea and stared into the empty cup, a trifle mournfully.

---

Cho went running.

Then he watched Iron Chef.

---

“Coffee?”

“No, I have some,” Lisbon lied, giving Cho an uncomfortable look. “I mean, I had some. I already drank it. Before you got here.”

“Oh.” Cho shrugged and left, closing her door behind him. Lisbon breathed a sigh of relief, even if she was a bit disappointed.

“Hmmmm?” Jane inquired, looking over the edge of his tea cup at her.

Lisbon blushed, and looked away. “He… ah. It’s nothing.”

“It’s something pertinent. I can tell,” Jane leaned forward, a wolf scenting blood. “You’ve been holding back!”

Lisbon stared at him, certain that he shouldn’t sound so happy about that. “I have not,” she denied weakly, slumping into the leathery embrace of her chair. She frowned at the camera man zooming in through the blinds.

“Have too.”

“Have not.”

“Have too.”

“I have not. Stop calling me a liar.”

“I’ll stop calling you a liar when you stop lying. Liar,” Jane said it like it was perfectly reasonable.

Lisbon wished the camera wasn’t watching them so she could throttle him. It would be justifiable. No prosecutor who had ever worked with Jane would even try to put her in prison. It would be cushy house arrest for her! “It’s not important.” Lisbon glanced at the cameras.

Jane followed her gaze, and grimaced. “You know I’ll stalk you until you tell me once those yahoos are gone, right?”

“Yeah—yahoos?” Lisbon struggled against the sensation that there were three different conversations going one, two of which only Jane was participating in.

“Them.” Jane nodded at the camera.

“Oh. Right.”

“Anyway, I’m going to go have lunch with that reporter.”

“I thought you hated him?”

“Well, yes. He’s indisputably an asshole.”

“Then why…?”

Jane walked out without answering her question, leaving Lisbon standing around like Commissioner Gordon. Again.

Part 5