A/N: So, despite the loveliness of Rigsby's proposal, the wonderful Jane-fluffing of Lisbon's hair, and of course, the heart-wrenching scene of Jane's emotional reaction at the wedding, this episode was sort of ho-hum for me. It didn't do anything to advance the Red John plot, leaving us still where we started with McAllister at least, and I couldn't get into the murder mystery. I was frankly more excited about next week's preview.
Anyhow, here is a little tag that picks up right where the episode left off. Hope it adds a little something…
Episode Tag: Wedding in Red, 6x3
She found him by the duck pond, long after Rigsby and Van Pelt had left in their horse-drawn carriage toward their happily ever aftering.
"You're gonna make them fat," she said, watching as he tossed the birds wedding cake, of all things.
He didn't look up. "Meh, let them eat cake."
He through some more and she watched him in silence, trying to gauge his mood.
"We missed you at the ceremony," she told him.
"It takes a little time to arrange a twenty-one gun salute, Lisbon," was his evasive reply. "I thought you law enforcement types would appreciate the effort."
"Well, it was beautiful. I'm glad they could finally have their relationship out in the open."
He grinned a little, but made no comment, and she moved to stand beside him. They both watched the hungry antics of the ducks for a few moments. She looked at Jane's face, and it was then that she saw that his eyes were red around the rims.
Had he been crying?
A jolt of surprise ripped through her, but she didn't have the courage to ask. She had her suspicions, but it was too painful to contemplate that perhaps he was missing his wife on this happy day of weddings, that maybe he'd avoided the ceremony because it brought back too many memories.
She decided to change the subject.
"So, any further thoughts on McAllister?"
"He's not afraid of heights, obviously."
"Does that mean he's not Red John?"
"No. Sophie thought he might be fearful of something else. He didn't seem to like pigeons much."
"True. He also seems to be hiding something. It still is suspicious that he met with Bertram and Smith last week—three men on your list! Too much of a coincidence, if you ask me."
"Yeah, for me too. But I can't explain it." He finished feeding the ducks and brushed his hands together, ridding his them of the sticky cake. "Except for Wayne and Grace's wedding, this was a total waste of a trip."
"We solved a murder," she suggested. He looked at her straight on for the first time since she joined him, and promptly rolled his puffy eyes heavenward.
"Well, didn't you get any insight at all? I mean, I'm sorry Partridge is dead, but at least that's one less suspect to be paranoid about."
He paused, looking out over the pond.
"Red John has eluded me for the better part of a decade, Lisbon. I've known some of these men on the list for years. It's not going to be easy to suddenly see them as murderers. Red John has to either tip his hand or make some sort of colossal mistake, and up to this point, he's been pretty damn careful. McAllister is certainly cold and calculating enough to be Red John, and there was something about him that time we worked with him on that redhead abduction case—that's why I included him. If he's not the man himself, I wouldn't be surprised if he was a close associate."
"So, basically, we're at square one where he's concerned."
Jane sighed. "Yes."
She tried one more time. "You said yourself he could have killed you on that roof last night, but he didn't."
Jane shrugged. "Red John could have killed me ten times over, Lisbon. This proves nothing. Letting me fall off a roof isn't nearly theatrical enough for him, I don't imagine, and besides, too many witnesses about."
"Well, this sucks." She bent and picked up a stone, tossing it angrily into the water. The ducks quacked anxiously nearby.
Jane chuckled. "That it does, Lisbon. But don't give up hope. I haven't."
It was about this time that the carriage that had transported Rigsby and Van Pelt returned, the horses strutting jauntily on the road above them on their way back to the stables.
"Hey!" called Jane impulsively.
Lisbon whistled shrilly, two fingers in her mouth, and the driver stopped abruptly. By unspoken agreement, Jane and Lisbon hurried over to the carriage.
"Have time for another ride, Charlie?" he asked the driver, a sparkle in his eye.
"Sure thing, Mr. Jane," he replied. "Hop in!" Jane had been the one to arrange for the newlyweds' ride earlier—his gift to the happy couple—and the two men had hit it off right away. (It was hard for mere mortals to resist Patrick Jane's charm when turned up all the way, which is why he'd gotten the discount price on the carriage).
He helped Lisbon up into the carriage, delighting in her dimpled smile.
"Where to, folks?" asked Charlie.
"Give us the nickel tour," said Jane, sitting back next to Lisbon. He draped his arm casually across the seat behind her, smiling in anticipation of the early fall ride through the vineyard. With a click of Charlie's tongue, they were off at a leisurely trot.
It was funny, thought Lisbon, how the little things so excited him, that despite the shadow of Red John that loomed all around them, he still approached life with the unfettered glee of a child. She had learned from him to take time to smell the roses, to eat the oranges, to pet the dogs, to play with the children, and to take a carriage ride through a vineyard even though a serial killer was still very much at large.
She was grateful that whatever had saddened him earlier seemed to have passed.
"Sometimes," he said to Lisbon, his sun-kissed hair tousled by the light breeze, "you just have to sit back and let the horse lead you."
She looked at him sidelong. "Yeah, right. That's rich, coming from you."
"Aw, Lisbon, try to reign it in now, would you?"
"How about you not beat a dead horse," she suggested in annoyance.
"How long have you two been married?" asked Charlie from the front, obviously amused by their banter.
Lisbon was mortified by the awkwardness of the question. "Oh, we're—"
"Going on ten years now," answered Jane with a wicked gleam in his eye.
"Hmm," said Charlie, eyes still on the road. "That's about what I thought."
Jane grinned, and his hand squeezed Lisbon's shoulder, reassuring her he was all right with the joke.
"Seems like a hundred, some days," he couldn't resist adding.
"You're telling me," she huffed under her breath.
Charlie laughed and clucked again at the horses, while Jane began humming, The Old Gray Mare.
The punch in the arm, when it came, was about as life affirming as it gets, Jane thought, and he realized that his earlier melancholy had all but disappeared.
A/N: Okay, so this was all over the place, I admit it. I had several little scenes and moments in mind, and didn't want to give up any of them, so this is the end result. Thank you for reading.