Wayne Rigsby sat leaning as far back in his desk chair as the contraption would allow; his eyes fixed on the ceiling tile directly above him, cracked down the middle with water damage around the edge where it met the tile beside it. His mind wasn't on the tile though, or on the stack of papers on his desk that needed his signature; all he could think of was Grace, and that last emotionally charged night they had spent together after she had killed O'Laughlin.

"Wayne!"

His name fell breathily from her lips as she writhed beneath him, grasping desperately at any inch of his skin she could reach. It was like every dream he had had while they were apart was being played out on his living room floor; their sweaty bodies as close as he could pull them together as he rocked into her slowly, savoring the feeling of being with her again for as long as he could manage.

"Wayne… Yes… Wayne… Please" she moaned, hot against his lips.

"God… Grace!" he actually felt himself whimper as she began to tighten impossibly around him.

"Wayne… Wayne!" she cried out, kissing him hard on the lips to muffle a scream that certainly would have woken the neighbors.

"Wayne… Wayne…"

"Wayne!"

Grace's voiced was replaced by that of Kimball Cho as Rigsby was swiftly pulled out of both his memories and his chair. He felt himself being dragged by the arm, but his brain – still stuck in the haze of that night – didn't register where exactly he was going. Cho pulled him into the men's room, ushering a surprised and flustered intern out the door before locking it behind him. Turning to him with the same stern look he always wore, Cho cocked his head and said simply:

"Spit it out."

"What?" Wayne replied, still not fully understanding the situation he found himself in. Cho continued unphased.

"Whatever's got you so distracted, spit it out. I can't afford to have you spacing out on me."

"It's nothing." He lowered his head as he spoke, now noticing the floor tiles in the bathroom as if for the first time.

"Look, I know you're upset about Van Pelt going back to Iowa – however temporarily—but she's only been gone a week and a half and you're losing it already. You've got to get it together Wayne, because people – including me – put their lives in your hands every day and you can't be drifting off into dreamland all the time." The use of his first name let him know that while Cho was putting on a strictly professional front, he really was concerned.

"Look, I'm sorry. I just can't get her out of my head."

"You slept together" Cho stated in the same flat tone he would use to relay a football score.

"What? Cho, that's ridiculous!" The other man simply gave him a skeptical look and crossed his arms.

"You're a terrible liar. You're also blushing as if you'd been caught in the act." Cho's face stayed impassive as he watched Rigsby try to control his blushing.

"I don't want to talk about it" Rigsby stated quietly, but with a sense of finality. Cho still had that maddeningly calm expression on his face.

"That's fine. I don't particularly want to hear about it, I just need you to get yourself together. Van Pelt's temporary replacement gets here today."

Rigsby felt an ache deep in his chest as he processed what his colleague had just said. Grace's replacement; no – he reminded himself – her temporary replacement.