Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)

"Well, what do you think?" Jane asked as she stepped out from the doorway of the bedroom, wearing a dress that Kurt had only seen on a hanger in their closet. It had been there for the past few weeks, waiting for today.

She couldn't help but smile at his expression when he looked up at her from where he stood in the kitchen. He'd been in the middle of making them something to eat before they left for a full day of the festivities that went along with Sarah's wedding. For once, she was the first one ready, since he'd been afraid of getting a spot on his own formalwear. For the time being he was, instead, wearing a t-shirt and shorts, waiting until the last minute to change. Now, standing in the kitchen and turning to look at Jane as she continued to walk towards him, he simply stared.

It was almost unheard of that she wore a dress outside of their few undercover missions at work, and she was very much enjoying the look on his face this time. This dress was a pale green, and it fit her perfectly – fitted on the top, and soft and flowing from the waist down. Unlike when she'd gotten dressed up for their undercover missions, it wasn't black, and wasn't required to cover her tattoos, and she felt simultaneously self-conscious and liberated by both the lack of sleeves and the fact that the length stopped at her knees. No, there would be no fading into the crowd for Jane – not that there ever had been, really, but far less so the more of her skin her clothing showed off.

Having almost closed the entire distance between them, she grinned at his speechlessness. She could see that his eyes were glued to her, and she found that she liked the attention. His mouth was ajar, but still no sound escaped it.

Speechless is good, I think, she thought as she neared him.

She'd been walking in his direction slowly on purpose, trying to give him enough time to actually look at her dress and form words – over time she'd noticed that when she very occasionally dressed up, he always seemed to always react just the same way he had the first time he'd seen her in the dress and makeup that she'd worn the day they'd met Rich Dotcom for the first time – stunned and speechless. That in itself was a compliment, she knew, as was the reverent look in his eyes.

As she'd gotten into the habit of doing in the rare cases, she stopped just short of where he could reach her, smiling at him with her hands on her hips, just waiting. This had become her signal to him that he had yet to form any words to respond to the question about what he thought of what she was wearing.

"Wow," he whispered, taking a step towards her while still looking at her appreciatively. "I like it."

"Not too… I don't know. Too much? Too little? I know what a big deal this is to Sarah… I just hope it looks okay" As she babbled, he closed the distance between them, shaking his head and reaching for her.

"It's perfect," he mumbled, his arms drawing around her waist to pull her closer. "You're perfect."

"Those hands had better be clean, Weller," she growled as his hands slid across the back of her dress. Of course, it would have been too late if they hadn't been. "You mess up this dress, one of the other bridesmaids might kill you."

"They're clean," he mumbled into her ear. "And it's worth the risk." She could only smile in response as she leaned into him, her arms circling around his neck. She tilted her head back only just enough to look up and grin at him, sighing softly.

"I wish this wasn't going to take the entire day," she lamented, looking into his eyes and now finally feeling relaxed. While getting dressed and ready, she'd been getting herself more and more nervous about the events of the day, which seemed ridiculous because it wasn't even her wedding. But it was a day of showing a lot more ink than she usually did in front of a lot of people she didn't know, of smiling when she felt uncomfortable, and who knew what else. After all, she couldn't remember if she'd ever been to another wedding before, so it was just another situation that felt like the great unknown. Between Kurt's descriptions of previous ones he'd attended and everything she'd read online, it sounded as though it was going to be an exhausting day.

"Well, look at the bright side," he told her. "Whatever else happens, we're not working, we're going to be together, somewhere where the focus is on my sister… so basically, we can just hang around and do this." With that, he leaned down to kiss her, not stopping until air was a necessity.

Once again leaning back to look at him a few minutes later, she shook her head and smiled. "I may never have been to a wedding before, but I think our official duties as members of the wedding party may include a little more than just standing around and kissing," she told him. "And I think if we kiss like that, while I have zero complaints… somehow I feel like that would attract a little attention." When he pretended to pout, she added, "Though it's a very nice thought."

He chuckled, nodding his head. "Well… in any case, it's not every day that saving the world is not on our agenda," he observed. "That counts for something, right?"

"True," she agreed. "Though you never know. There've been plenty of times when it wasn't on the agenda, but we had to do it anyway."

"You're right about that, Miss Doe," he told her, gazing at her happily. "But for Sarah's sake, I sincerely hope it doesn't come to that." Then he reluctantly loosened his grip on her, glancing over his shoulder at the food on the counter. "But we need to eat, so that we can get going. Big day ahead."

Nodding in agreement, even though she felt a sense of hesitation at the prospect of moving any farther away from him, she slowly took a step back. As she looked over at what he'd made for them, her left hand slid down his arm to his hand, which she took in hers. Seeing identical omelets on two plates, she felt her mouth begin to water.

"I was trying to think of something as non-messy as possible," he told her.

Looking up at him with slightly narrowed eyes, she replied playfully, "And exactly what are you trying to say?"

"That it would be a shame to get your gorgeous dress dirty, of course," he said, leaning toward her with a peck to her lips before stepping back, dropping her hand reluctantly and picking up both of their plates to bring them to the table. Shaking her head and chuckling, she took out silverware and followed him.

"Good save," she said with a shake of her head.

Only a few minutes later, their plates empty, she shooed him off to get changed as she took the dishes to the kitchen. She could hear him moving around in the bedroom as she rinsed everything and put it all away in the dishwasher, and she couldn't help but smile. She'd lived with Roman for a while, of course, but that had obviously not been the same. No, she still couldn't get over how much she loved living with Kurt. She'd held out for a while, but when it came down to it, she had realized that she had nothing to prove, to herself or anyone else. The simple fact was that she would rather be with him than by herself.

Even now, months after she'd moved into his apartment, she couldn't get over how much she liked the fact that the apartment was almost never completely silent the way her safe house had been – even when she was home alone, it didn't feel silent in the same way. No, she might never get used to how nice it was to hear Kurt moving around in the next room. It seemed silly and trivial when she thought about it, but it was simply one of the things that she loved about living with him.

Standing up and closing the dishwasher, she turned and looked out past the counter on the island, into the living room. Even in those few short years since she had been Jane, she remembered so many different things that had happened here in this apartment. Just this thought alone made her smile – there had been a time when it had felt like she would never have the luxury of happy memories. Of course, back then it had been hard to come to terms with the fact that in order to have memories – or at least, memories that she wanted to have – she would have to make all new ones. And it wasn't as though she hadn't made her share of terrible new memories as Jane, as well. However, thanks to Kurt, the good ones far outnumbered the bad ones.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't even hear him come back out of the bedroom ten minutes later, now ready to go. Indeed, when he stepped behind her and put his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder, she turned her head towards him, leaning her cheek against his with a grin.

"That was my favorite kind of surprise," she told him.

"What kind?" he asked, mumbling almost into her ear.

"You," she replied, and was rewarded with the feeling of the muscles in his cheek moving as he smiled at her. This would literally never, ever get old. This feeling that he gave her when they were this close… like absolutely nothing in the world mattered except that very moment.

"Lost in thought again?" he guessed.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice catching slightly. "I was thinking about the night we played Uno Attack with Sawyer," she said simply. That memory was bittersweet, of course, since as much fun as they had had at that time, she'd been under Oscar's influence. To that day, she regretted not telling Kurt that his life had been threatened if she didn't do those damned "small tasks" for Sandstorm that had eventually led to Mayfair's death. She would have done anything to undo those particular choices… but that was neither here nor there. They couldn't change the way things had happened. Thankfully, they'd gotten past it.

She felt his arms pull her closer, and she knew without either of them saying a word that he knew exactly where her mind had gone. Exhaling slowly, she tried to release the pangs of regret that she always felt at the memory. They'd long since talked about that night, about all of it, and agreed that since she couldn't change any of it, dwelling on it didn't do any good. If only it was that easy.

"Hey," he whispered against her cheek, then kissed it gently.

Message received. Her lips curved upwards in a sad smile, and her head tilted to lean her cheek against his.

"We should get going," he added in the same whisper a moment later.

She felt herself shiver as she nodded, the memory not having let go of her quite yet. "Jane," he said, appearing to understand. There were certain memories that always took a little extra coaxing on his part to break her out of, after all. "Turn around."

It seemed to work, sometimes, to have her physically turn so that she was no longer looking at whatever had triggered the memory. Sometimes that was all she needed, and sometimes he had to work a little harder. He never seemed to mind, and he always seemed to know how to get through to her. It was just another of the million things that she loved about him.

Now with her back to the island that separated the kitchen from the living room, she looked up into the kindest eyes she had ever known. Taking a deep breath, she pushed everything else aside, reminding herself to let go of everything else. They had made it, after all. Everything that had happened… it didn't matter anymore. Believing this had taken a lot of practice, but she was getting better.

"Ready?" he asked softly, looking at her as if he could see right into her head.

Maybe he can. He read her so well that there were lots of times when she suspected that he was doing just that – reading her thoughts.

His smile, as always, was mesmerizing, and for a few seconds she couldn't reply because she was simply lost in this moment, now successfully disengaged from the memory. Finally she recovered the power of speech.

"Yes, let's go before we're late. You do not want to start off on the wrong foot with Sarah today," she advised him.

"That applies to any day, but especially today," he agreed with a chuckle.

His arms dropped from around her and he stepped back, but kept hold of her right hand, holding it loosely as they began to walk. "What are we missing? Before we walk out the door?" he asked her, rubbing his thumb against the skin of the back of her hand and watching her smile because of it.

"My purse, and the wrap that goes with this dress," she told him. "They're on the bed." Without a word, he began walking back toward the bedroom, not letting go of her hand. Pulled along behind him, she shook her head and chuckled. He seemed to know exactly what she found amusing, because he didn't ask any questions, simply turned and looked at her over his shoulder, grinning.

"There you are," he told her, handing her the tiny silver purse and then letting go of her hand to drape the delicate green fabric over her shoulders, before reaching down to capture her hand again.

She wasn't used to the weight of a purse on her arm, but her dress was distinctly without pockets, and it wasn't the right season nor the right outfit for a jacket, so… a small purse it was.

"Thank you," she said softly, looking up at him once again with a smile that she hope conveyed just how very happy she was at that moment. "Now let's get out of here."

Hours later, after all the of the bride's nervous jitters and the getting ready and the ceremony itself, along with about three quarters of a dazzlingly decorated reception, Jane and Kurt found themselves sitting down at a table on an outdoor patio of a restaurant that Jane knew was famous but hadn't heard of before the planning had begun for Sarah's wedding. It was just at the edge of Central Park, and strings of white lights hung over their heads, creating a fairy tale-like feel and bathing the entire party in a warm glow. This night had truly been magical, and Jane was glad that Sarah seemed so happy. She certainly deserved it.

They sat close together on somewhat uncomfortable white wooden folding chairs, Jane's chair turned sideways beside Kurt's so that her legs could rest over his lap. He was holding an ice pack on her ankle, which she'd managed to twist in a rather spectacular fashion on the dance floor a few minutes before.

"Any better?" he asked, looking over at her hopefully.

Distracted, Jane nodded absently. "A little," she said with a sigh, consciously ignoring the pain in her ankle. After all, this was light years away from the most painful thing that had happened to her. Her ankle seemed like such a trivial injury after everything she'd been through in her past.

Besides distracting herself from the pain in her ankle, she'd been watching, while distinctly pretending not to watch, as a few of Sarah's friends had been staring at her with only thinly veiled looks of hostility on their faces. Jane had kept a pleasant smile on hers the best she could, considering that she was in pain, pretending she didn't see the looks she was getting. Sarah had warned her early in the day about the few friends of hers that had had crushes on her older brother for as long as she'd known them, and she had been right – those were the girls now giving her the evil eye.

Jane liked to think that it didn't have anything to do with her tattoos, but she had a feeling that Kurt being there with the girl covered in ink was probably even worse than if he'd shown up with someone else. After all, they would be far from the first people to judge her that way.

"They're just jealous," he told her softly, having leaned over to rest his cheek against hers and speak beside her ear. "The girls that are giving you nasty looks. They've been staring at me pretty intensely since I was about eighteen years old, maybe before that, any time I was anywhere near them. They're like vultures. They'd give those looks to anyone I was with. It's not you."

He'd overheard Sarah's words of warning, and had immediately known which of Sarah's high school friends would be in attendance. How he had not missed that crowd since their last encounter, many years ago.

Turning her head to speak near his ear, she kissed his cheek before replying. "I don't think the tattoos help, though."

"Who cares? It's their issue, not yours," he told her. She didn't care what these women thought of her, but it wasn't her first choice to be scowled at all evening.

"I know," she said, working hard to ignore the feeling of being watched. "Personally, I'm glad you wore this dress. I like to show you off."

Her chair was just close enough to his now to allow her to lean her head on his shoulder, and his arm went part way around her shoulders in return. Closing her eyes to block out the looks she may or may not be getting, she snuggled against him. His free hand came to rest on her knee a few seconds later, and his fingertips played with the edge of the fabric of her dress for a few seconds. She just smiled but remained still as he let go of her dress. Seconds later, she recognized the pattern he was tracing on the skin below her knee as the lines of her tattoos. She'd always loved this feeling, finding it simply mesmerizing.

"Do you want to go home so you can rest?" he whispered in her ear.

She shook her head against him, but after only a split second pause and without opening her eyes, she asked, "What time is it?"

"Almost eleven," he replied. "This party will be breaking up soon anyway."

"We can stay as long as you want," she assured him. "I'm fine."

"The problem is, you say that no matter what… even when you're not," he reminded her soothingly, his fingers still tracing the ink on her leg. It wasn't an accusation, it was a statement of fact. Deep down, she knew that he was right, of course.

Opening her eyes just a crack to look at him, she tried to read his expression in the semi-darkness of the hanging lights above them. "But I am fine," she insisted. "And this is Sarah's wedding day. We can't just skip out because I twisted my ankle! Don't we have some sort of duties to perform?"

"As members of the wedding party, you mean?" he asked with a chuckle. "No, our duties are done."

Just then, a breathless Sarah was standing above them. "Hey you guys," she said, her face flushed and her smile radiant. "Jane, how are you feeling? Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

The two of them looked up at Sarah and smiled. "I'm fine, really Sarah, but thank you. Trust me when I saw your brother has it under control." She tilted her head toward the ice pack still balancing on her ankle, then looked up at Sarah.

"Yeah, I see that," Sarah replied with a grin. "And there's definitely no one better for that job. Taking care of Jane seems to be his specialty." She glanced around the room with a smile, then looked back down at her brother. "The party's breaking up. You should get her home so she can get some rest," Sarah told Kurt.

"That's actually what I was just telling her myself," he told his sister in amusement.

"And as I just told Kurt, I'm fine," Jane protested, but Sarah just smiled at her.

"You're just as stubborn as this knucklehead," Sarah said, tilting her head at Kurt. "Must be why you two are so perfect for each other."

"One of many reasons," Kurt insisted, looking down to see Jane grin. Her insides tingled with happiness, and she wondered how in the world this was possible… That she was allowed to be this happy.

Suddenly she had a strange sensation, a sense of foreboding, as if something was wrong but she couldn't figure out what.

But you're not allowed to be this happy, are you? the voice in her head asked her. And you know it.

In a flash, panic moved through her, and suddenly there was no color left anywhere in her line of sight – everything had faded into black and white. It reminded her of the dream she'd had, the one where she'd been having dinner with Kurt and Roman one minute, and then having a knock-down-drag-out fight with Remi, which of course wasn't even possible, the next minute. In a panic, she looked up to where Kurt had been, his face so close to hers, only seconds before, but it was gone.

She began to feel dizzy then, and she swore that she was falling. No longer was a twisted ankle the extent of her problems. All of a sudden, she was falling into nothingness.

Thankfully, if that word could be used in this situation in which the world seemed to be crumbling around her, she didn't fall into nothingness after all. Instead, however, she did regain consciousness, no longer falling. Now suddenly she was lying on her back, in her own bed, staring at the familiar plain white ceiling.

Breathe, she ordered herself. In and out. In and out. There was nothing else to be done, and after so much practice, she knew exactly what to do. Just make it to the next task, she told herself. Do not overthink what you just saw or felt. Try not to remember it, either, because it won't help. It only makes things worse.

Get up.

Brush your teeth.

Shower.

Get dressed.

Make coffee.

Go to work.

Forget.

It was strange, telling herself to forget. It ran counter to everything she'd tried to do for her entire short time as Jane. But it was what she needed to do.

Isn't it funny how you keep dreaming about Kurt? the voice in her head observed innocently. You've never dreamt about Oliver. Not even once.

It doesn't mean anything, Jane told herself.

Of course not, the voice replied obligingly, without sarcasm for once. Still, the message was clear. She just chose to ignore the message – after all, what good would it do? It didn't matter what she may or may not have wanted… she couldn't have him, so she shouldn't think about it.

Once she left her house, the day seemed to pass by in a flash. At the end of it, after the team had been split up and, as usual, had faced the prospect of death and injury, somehow she'd ended up walking down a hall at the NYO, alone with Kurt for the first time that day. Besides a few minutes many hours before, it was the first she'd seen of him at all that day. Now she stood in the hall, talking to him about the events of the day as he told her that he wished she could have seen him shoot Rich. That was when Oliver texted her.

Kurt asked her if she had 'a hot date,' and she was pretty sure he expected her to say no – it was a joke, after all. She almost did say no, just because she was so flustered. But, thinking quickly, she realized that it was a date, and, well… she didn't know what a 'hot date' was, exactly, but there was no use denying that she had a date. After all, they were working on honesty. There had been enough lies between them, and there was certainly no reason to lie about something so small just because she felt funny telling him.

Besides, it wasn't as though there was anything between herself and Kurt. Sadly, it seemed like they'd missed their chance. Now, she was just lucky that they seemed to be back to being friends.

She stumbled over her words possibly worse than ever before. "No, I… Well… I mean yeah, but it's not… you know… it's not… it's… it's a date," she finally confirmed.

Why was that so hard to tell him? she wondered.

You know why, the voice in her head reminded her.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Jane told him, for lack of anything better to say. This conversation had turned more than a little awkward, but she did her best to smile at him.

"See you tomorrow," Kurt agreed, smiling right back.

Jane walked past him down the hall, relieved once she'd walked around the corner. Things were finally comfortable between the two of them again, but just then, admitting to him that she had a date… that had been awkward.

He watched her until she rounded the corner, not having moved from the spot where he'd been standing when she'd said she had a date.

She has a date?

It was hard to know what to do with that information. All he knew, as he stood there, was that he was still staring after her even though she'd disappeared from his view.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he continued down the hall, back to his office.