Author's Note: Where does Grace go every night after work? Why is she so secretive? Why do she and Rigsby still have their pants on? As usual, I own nothing.

Chapter One- The Russian

There was nothing particularly interesting going on that bright and chilly October morning in the CBI bullpen. Nothing interesting, that was, until the Russian showed up. A dark, thirty-something, well-toned and incredibly handsome man stepped off the elevator and into the hallway. He was six feet tall with a square jaw, bronze, short curly hair and stunning facial features. He was dressed in a simple black tee shirt, a black biker's jacket and dark blue jeans, which all clung to a body alive with dense musculature. He carried a large briefcase that opened from the top in his right hand. His posture betrayed absolute confidence as he lazily took in his surroundings, slowly casting his gaze up one corridor and down the other. Rigsby saw him from the kitchen and instantly disliked him. Too cool and cocky, too handsome. Rigsby walked out into the hallway and came to a stop in front of him. "Can I help you?" he asked stonily.

The man turned to him and smiled serenely. When he spoke his words clipped charmingly with a thick Russian accent. "Please. I am looking for Agent Van Pelt. Do you know where I might find her?"

Rigsby, already disliking this man for his looks, instantly hated him for asking for Grace. He drew up to his full height, hoping it made him look imposing. "This way," he replied coldly. Rigsby led the Russian to Grace's desk where she sat engrossed in a case file. "Grace, someone to see you," Rigsby informed her, switching from one foot to the other. Part of him hoped she'd look up, take one look at this guy, and promptly ask Rigsby to throw him out on the street. No such luck. Grace looked up from her desk and a mixture of recognition, surprise and pleasure crossed her face. "Thanks, Rigsby. Liev! What on earth are you doing--," but she was cut off as Liev moved with lightening speed and bent down to her eye level, pressing a finger to his lips as his eyes twinkled playfully. "Shhhhh," he uttered quietly.

Grace smiled. Rigsby scowled. What the hell was this clown up to anyway? But Grace seemed almost giddy as her smile grew wider and she bit her lips in silent compliance. She kept her mouth pressed shut as Liev stood up and slowly reached into his jacket. He produced a dark purple piece of paper and handed it to her. She took it from him and read it silently. Her eyes glittered with mischief and when she looked back to Liev she gave him a conspiratorial nod. He nodded in return and instantly set down his case on the floor, flipping open and pulling a black travel sleeve used to carry suits. Liev draped it across his arms and offered it to Grace with the same reverence as if he were handing her the shroud of Turin. She accepted it with mock seriousness, bowing her head as if highly honored to be given such a precious gift. She stood up and hung the sleeve on the peg near her desk, turning back to Liev and trying desperately to suppress a giggle. Liev, still silent and barely concealing a wicked smiled behind his somber expression, took Grace's hand and kissed it as he bowed deeply at the waist, looking up at her wolfishly through dark brown eyes and sooty lashes. Grace couldn't help it, she giggled.

By this time, their little silent exchange has garnered quite a bit of interest. Rigsby hadn't moved a muscle as he watched their little tête-à-tête with growing anger and jealousy. When Liev kissed her hand and gave her that look, it took all of Rigsby's strength not to break his jaw. Lisbon's curiosity was also piqued and she moved to her doorframe, leaning against it and watching her youngest agent with quiet amusement. Jane had watched unabashedly from his couch where he lay sprawled and got a ringside view of the whole event. His own curiosity was aroused, as this seemed quite odd for the normally straight-laced Van Pelt to behave so playfully. Cho had no interest whatsoever until he happened to look up and saw the purple piece of paper in Grace's hand. Suddenly he froze and a look of absolute shock and envy came over his face.

Finally, the handsome Russian released her hand and stood up, grabbing his case and snapping it shut again. He turned without saying a word and walked briskly out of the office, leaving a smiling Grace, a glowering Rigsby, and a very bemused CBI team. Lisbon spoke up from the corner. "What was all that about, Van Pelt?" Grace's gaze snapped to her boss. Apparently she hadn't even been aware of everyone's attention. Another odd occurrence, for Grace was always hyper-aware of other people's attention on her as it usually embarrassed her to no end. Color rose to her cheeks and she looked down at her desk. "Nothing, boss. Just a friend."

Cho was still staring at her with a newfound respect and awe. She saw his expression and her eyes turned pleading. "Don't, Cho. Please?" Lisbon, Jane and Rigsby all turned to Cho and realized he knew what had just transpired. Jane leapt at him. "So what gives? What just happened here that's got Grace so excited and you so jealous? Com'on, Cho. Ya know ya wanna."

"No!" Grace cried out. The other agents looked at her in surprise, which she seemed to be full of today. "Please, please don't tell. They'll kill me if they find out that—,"

"Grace has been invited to the Alleged Halloween Party," Cho interrupted matter-of-factly.

"Dammit, you!" she hit her desk in anger. Confusion crossed the faces of the other three. "The what?" asked Rigsby.

"Yeah, the what? It's just a party then?" asked Lisbon.

Cho looked at them with disgust, as if pearls had just been thrown before swine. "It's not a party. It's the party. The hottest party on the coast, if rumors are to be believed. But the guess list is exclusive and the party is top secret. Even movie stars have asked to be invited with no luck. And no one outside of the guests is allowed to even know where it is. Some say it doesn't actually exist and it's just an urban legend, hence the name. How the hell did you get on the list, Van Pelt? You're not exactly Sandra Bullock."

Grace glared at Cho like she wanted to bludgeon him to death. But with everyone staring expectantly at her, she chose to forego the killing and just clammed up. "I don't know what you're talking about. Don't we have a case or something?" she went back to her case file on her desk, gluing her eyes to its dry content and refusing to look up as the other four prodded her with questions. Lisbon wanted to know who threw this supposedly amazing party. Jane wheedled her about the location. Rigsby just wanted to know who Liev was. She bit her lips again in clear defiance of their questions and kept doggedly reading her file. She was feeling quite hopeful and proud now, she was fighting them off. Soon they'd lose interest and find something else to focus on. Only after Jane had made a seemingly harmless pass around her desk did she realize she was horribly wrong. She saw him wander back to his couch, and then nonchalantly produced her purple piece of paper from his sleeve. She leapt from her desk and went to snatch it from Jane's hands, but Rigsby caught her midair and locked his arms through hers, holding her against him as she struggled like a spitting tomcat. "Jane! Give that back or I'll kill you! No one else is allowed to know!" Grace cried out in annoyance as she fought against Rigsby's hold. But it was no use. Fighting against Rigsby was like fighting a Chinese finger trap. The harder she struggled, the tighter and more impossible his grip became. Soon her back was held flush against his chest and despite herself, her anger began to flag. True, she couldn't escape, but it was also true that she was starting not to want to. His hold was comforting as he expertly kept her from moving, but also made sure he wasn't hurting her. His chest was warm against her back and she could smell the light scent of his aftershave, and if she moved her head back just a tiny bit, it would rest against the hollow of his throat. She felt…safe. She shook herself. She'd fight verbally then, if strength was no longer an option. She yelled threats at Jane as he casually read her invitation.

Jane found the whole scene thoroughly amusing. Grace looked fit to be tied, and he was pretty sure that, given different circumstances, both Rigsby and Grace might be open to the idea. Instead he watched happily as the young redhead thrashed in the big man's arms as she tried to get to him. He lazily read the paper in his hand and instantly wondered why she was getting so upset.

Lisbon, Cho and Rigsby were all yelling at him to read it out loud. The commotion was ridiculous and Jane laughed, mentally likening the sound to a chicken coop. "Silence!" he roared, and the room went quiet as everyone looked at him expectantly. Grace had given up fighting and just stood placidly with her arms trapped on either side while Rigsby continued to hold her against him. Jane tossed the invitation to Cho, who read it briefly, then passed it to Lisbon.

"What's it say?" asked Rigsby, telling himself that he still needed to hold Grace, just in case she went for the paper again. Not that it mattered now, since they'd all seen it. But still. Lisbon walked over and held it up to him to read.

Grace Marie Van Pelt

The Time Has Come Once Again.

9:00PM

You know where.

Rigsby felt Grace slump completely against him, defeated. Her head dropped back against his throat and he inwardly purred at the softness of her hair against his skin. Oh, the things he wanted to do to this woman. Grace Marie (he hadn't known her middle name before and instantly loved it) Van Pelt. His hands itched to pull out of his arm lock and glide over every single inch of her.

"Let me go, Rigsby," she said dejectedly. He instantly released her, not getting why she fought so hard in the first place. "What's the big deal, Van Pelt? It doesn't tell us anything," he asked.

Grace walked back to her desk and sat heavily down in her chair as she buried her face in her hands. "Of course it doesn't tell you anything! They'd never risk writing anything important down. The point is that no one's supposed to know but me! And five minutes after I get my invite, four other people now know. How could you do that to--,"

"What's in the suit sleeve?" interrupted Jane, looking at it idly from the couch. Grace moved with preternatural speed and ripped the sleeve from the peg on the wall, hugging it to her chest like it was her firstborn child. "No! You are not looking! I'm taking it to my car and locking it up. Rigsby! If you follow me or try to stop me I will seriously taser you."

The four agents watched her run down the hall to the elevator before turning to look at each other. Lisbon spoke up. "Okay, boys. Tormenting Grace is now over, go back to whatever it was you were doing," she ordered as she disappeared back into her office.

The three men were left alone and Jane looked up expectantly at them from his couch. "So we're following her on Halloween night, right?" he asked.

"Totally,"

"Hell, yes," Rigsby and Cho answered simultaneously.

"Excellent," Jane said as he burrowed deeper into his couch and laid his head back for a nap.