Author's Note: This chapter gave me fits, so I'm a little nervous about it. I really hope it doesn't disappoint, but if it does, let me know. Part of the reason I embarked on this now-novel-length story was to sharpen up my writing and try new things, after all! I should probably mention that not only do I not own anything to do with The Mentalist, but I also do not own anything in here you recognize from Warner Bros.

Chapter 29

Their wedding day dawned clear and warm, promising to be perfect for the ceremony. Jane had managed to sleep a reasonable amount despite the unfamiliar hotel bed, reassured by the presence of Cho and Rigsby in the room next door, Grace on the other side, and Minelli across the hall. He woke with a smile, opening his eyes to see Lisbon leaning on the frame of the half open french doors, wrapped in her red robe and looking out at the ocean. She'd been restless all night, though she was tired after the long drive from Sacramento and had drunk several beers at dinner in a vain attempt to calm her nerves. Jane was sure the conversation she'd had with Minelli when he detained her in the hall as they all turned in for the night had been a last-ditch attempt to talk her out of this, which hadn't helped.

He was very glad he'd derailed Grace's plan for Lisbon to share her room last night, observing the tradition that the groom wasn't supposed to see the bride before the wedding. He'd claimed it was because he would be a nervous wreck without her, which was true, but he'd also firmly intended to make sure Lisbon's feet didn't get too cold.

He wished he could see her face. The way she had her arms wrapped around herself tugged at his heart.

This couldn't be how she'd envisioned her wedding day. Even though she hadn't been the kind of girl who started picking out her bridesmaids in high school, she must still have thought about it. The fact that she'd said she always thought she'd get married in church told him as much. And she deserved all the hoopla, a church decked out with flowers and her family all around. He daydreamed for a moment about giving that to her, someday when all this was over.

But this little barefoot beach ceremony with an armed wedding party was the best they could do for now. He drew in a breath to ask her to move away from the balcony, then decided not to disturb her. She wouldn't be in real danger until he put the ring on her finger. His urge to wrap her in Kevlar was irrational, like wanting to cover her in bubble wrap and plate armor. But he wondered for a moment what she would say if he told her he'd rather leave the wedding gown in its bag and marry her wearing a familiar blazer over a bulletproof vest and carrying at least three guns.

She'd say that Red John would consider shooting her to be too easy, too merciful, he thought. And she'd be right.

"Hey," he called softly. "Put some slippers on. I don't want your adorable little feet to get cold."

She turned, managing a smirk at his double meaning. "These little feet can still kick your ass, especially if you start telling me what to do."

"Perish the thought," he grinned. "That was merely a request."

"Then you might try attaching a 'please,'" she replied, pushing off the frame and walking slowly toward the bed.

"Please come back to bed so I can give you a foot massage," he coaxed, letting his grin turn sly.

"Save that for tonight. The only shoes I have to wear down to the beach are those torture devices I bought for Seattle."

"I told you to buy some better ones," he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes as she perched on the edge of the bed. "Like I needed one more thing on my to-do list."

He chuckled, reaching for her hand. He rubbed his fingers across her ring, wondering how different it would feel to do that once the wedding band was there too. Worse, he realized. The engagement ring had kept her alive; the wedding ring would mark her for death. What kind of monster was he to do that to the woman he loved, whose only crime was to love him in return?

"Hey," she said softly, sounding worried. "Don't think about him today. Please. Let the others worry about him." She was echoing what Grace had said last night, and the guys had agreed.

He wondered if he was even capable of that. "It's hard to break such a longstanding habit."

"Well, first you have to want to," she remarked. The edge in her tone told him she was no longer bantering.

Maybe a little denial was called for, just for a while. "All right. For today, we will pretend Red John no longer exists. He was walking down the street, thinking his murderous little thoughts, when an anvil dropped out of the sky and made him into a particularly unattractive puddle."

Lisbon didn't quite conceal the grin that wanted to take over her face. "Right, because Red John is really Wile E. Coyote in disguise."

"No, in that case, an Acme safe would have fallen out of the sky."

"Or a grand piano," she mused with a mostly straight face.

God, he loved playing with her like this. "Or it could have been a tragic accident involving a rocket engine and roller skates."

That got him an actual giggle. "So we're the roadrunners?"

"Why not? We're still here, despite everything he's done. We just have to stay that little bit faster than he is."

Lisbon smiled, leaning forward as if she were going to kiss him. She paused just shy of his lips to whisper, "Meep meep."

He closed the distance between them, his chuckle swallowed up in their kiss. She pulled back long before he was ready to let her. "Grace is expecting me any minute."

"For what?"

"To get dressed."

"You can't do that here? I've seen the dress, so there's no need to hide."

"Ah, but you haven't seen the accessories. Besides, she's going to help me hide my weapons."

"Plural?" He made sure to look impressed.

"Plural," she confirmed, giving him a saucy wink. Then she slid her fingers into his, suddenly losing her playful air and tightening her grip convulsively.

He waited a few seconds, then decided to help her along. "Just ask me."

He saw the memory of that night in the diner reflected in her shining eyes. "Ask you what?" she whispered.

He brought her wrist up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against her galloping pulse. "For anything. If it's in my power to give, it's yours."

Her smile trembled a little, and he held his breath. Was this finally it? He'd resigned himself to their getting married without ever having technically been engaged. But this would be perfect.

She drew a deep breath. "You've never said much about your wedding—your first wedding. Will you tell me if there's anything I shouldn't do or say? I don't want to remind you of anything painful."

Feeling abruptly let down, he summoned a smile. "As long as no one shows up drunk or needs bail money, we're good. We, uh, Angela and I agreed afterward that we should have just eloped. So this is perfect. Just you and me and the few people we trust."

She nodded, not quite satisfied. "I know it was Danny who needed the bail. Who showed up drunk?"

"My father," Jane admitted, the memory of his anger unexpectedly potent after all these years. "So I'm just as glad he can't possibly know about this."

"Will you tell him?" Her voice had gone very soft, as if she were worried she might spook him.

"I wouldn't know how to contact him, even if I wanted to. Are you going to tell your brothers?"

"Yes, when we get home. I couldn't risk it before. They might have jumped on a plane no matter what I said."

"They're not allowed to beat up a brother-in-law, right?" he teased.

"I'm the only one allowed to beat you up, and that's what I'll tell them." She got to her feet, but he wouldn't let go of her hand.

"Do you have time for a quick breakfast?" he asked.

"We're going to be eating a huge, ridiculously expensive brunch after," she reminded him.

There was a knock at the door, and she smiled as she pulled her hand free to go answer it. "But I did order you some tea and croissants."

"I love you," he grinned.

mmm

Lisbon left shortly afterward. Jane ate his breakfast, sipped his tea, then showered and dressed, trying to pace himself. It would take the ladies longer to get ready, and he didn't want to have nothing to do but sit and think about Red John's endgame. Maybe he should go find the guys, he thought when he was satisfied with his appearance. The distraction might be worth the friendly ribbing they would give him.

A knock at the door took the decision out of his hands. He was surprised when he looked through the peephole, though. "Virgil," he said in greeting as he opened the door. "Come to knock me over the head and toss me in a truck bound for Tijuana?"

Minelli smiled as he came in, looking around the room briefly before settling in the armchair by the balcony doors. "On the contrary, I've been sent to see that you don't wander off. Leaving you to your own devices struck Teresa as a bad idea for some reason."

"No need to worry, Virgil," Jane said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "A better man might slip out the back and spare her, but I have no intention of going anywhere."

Minelli harrumphed. "You can't save her by leaving. She pointed that out to me last night. If you vanished, he'd either kidnap her or kill her to punish you."

Jane couldn't resist arguing the point. "It wouldn't punish me if I went far enough away that I wouldn't hear about it."

"And you'd be able to live the rest of your life not knowing what happened to her? I don't think so. Sooner or later you'd have to find out. And if he killed her because you ran, not a one of us here would have an iota of sympathy for you."

"Rightly so." Jane clasped his hands, rubbing his fingers together. He was looking forward to having a ring to wear again; even months later, his left hand felt strange without it.

"This is a damn fine mess we made for her," Minelli sighed after a moment.

"It's not your fault," Jane said, but he knew his words would fall on deaf ears.

"Oh, yes it is. I started it."

"I could have done a better job keeping her at arm's length," Jane reflected.

Minelli shook his head. "No man is an island, not even you, Jane. No matter how hard you tried to be. And Lisbon is a sucker for a hard luck story. I should have seen this coming."

It occurred to Jane that most men minutes away from marrying the woman they loved would be getting congratulations. Not that he blamed Minelli, but this wasn't Lisbon's wake, dammit. "I once told her I would always save her. And I will." Or die trying.

"I hope so," Minelli said. He gave Jane a long look. "And I hope you will try not to make her too unhappy in the meantime."

"I know it seems as though I live to make people unhappy," Jane said dryly, "but Lisbon's happiness is important to me. I'm sure she'll want to kill me periodically, and she'll probably punch me now and then, but I'll do my best not to cause her any real distress."

"I suppose that will have to be good enough." Minelli looked around the room again, then added, "If this were under different circumstances, I'd congratulate you on finding the one woman in the world willing to put up with all your shit. We should all be so lucky."

Jane let a little, but not too much, bitterness creep into his grin. He would not point out that he'd done it twice. "True. How is May, by the way?"

"Annoyed that I wouldn't bring her. She sends her best wishes."

"It's my hope that someday in the not incredibly distant future it will be safe for us to have the church wedding Teresa would like," Jane said. "You can bring her to that one."

"I look forward to it," Minelli said. He was silent for a moment, then leaned forward. "Tell me you have a plan."

"I have some ideas that may grow into plans," Jane replied. "The ball is in his court. He's having a grand old time playing puppeteer, but to do that he has to watch us very closely. Sooner or later, either we or the FBI will catch a glimpse, a hint, a clue. The longer we play along, the more overconfident he'll get. He'll overstep, and we'll be ready."

Another knock on the door interrupted them, to Jane's relief. He opened the door to let Cho in. "And how is my best man this morning?"

Cho looked him up and down. "Just making sure you're good to go. Rigsby's in there having a nervous breakdown about messing up the ceremony. Maybe you should hypnotize him."

Sure, and then he could hypnotize Lisbon to calm down, Jane thought. Hell, maybe he should hypnotize everybody. "You know how Lisbon feels about hypnotism."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure she's not going to like it if he throws up on her dress, either," Cho said.

"Just tell him that our expectations are low," Jane advised. "As long as we actually manage to get married and nobody dies, we're happy."

"Speaking of which," Cho said, pulling a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it to him, "here's the license. You need one witness, but you can have two if you want."

Minelli came over to inspect it, but before he could say anything, there was a brief knock at the door. "Are you decent?" Lisbon called.

"Only rarely," Jane replied. "As it happens, at the moment I have company."

"Good," Lisbon replied, coming in with Grace, who began passing out boutonnieres that matched the white rosebud in her hair.

Lisbon wore three, along with some baby's breath, above one ear, her hair falling free otherwise, unhampered by a veil. Jane couldn't help the goofy smile that took over his face at the sight of her. She was wearing the simple white dress they'd picked out, but with the addition of an emerald green sash that matched the color of the knee-length sheath Grace was wearing—and her earrings. "I like the bit of color," he remarked as he pinned on the rosebud. "Is that where the gun is?"

"One of them." She turned so he could inspect the bow in the back. "Can you see it?"

"Only if I look really, really closely," he replied.

"Where's Rigsby?" Lisbon asked, turning back around.

"Having a panic attack," Cho said.

Grace grinned. "I'll get him." She ducked out the door.

"So. Who's signing this with us?" Jane asked, holding out the license.

"I am," Minelli and Cho chorused. Cho looked at his former boss and continued, "No need for you to attract Red John's attention."

"No," Minelli insisted, "this is partly my fault. I'll take responsibility."

"Does anyone have a pen?" Jane asked, spreading the paper out on the nightstand. Cho handed him one, and he signed his name without hesitation. Then he straightened and gave the pen to Lisbon, who managed a somewhat shaky smile as she took it.

Lisbon was not the type of person who ever signed anything without thoroughly reading it, even if she trusted the source. It was part of why she always seemed to be swimming in paperwork, Jane thought. But at the moment, he desperately wished she would throw caution to the winds and just sign the thing. The silence seemed too much like hesitation.

It was not a good sign that her hands were shaking. Maybe he should have offered to hypnotize her after all.

Just when he thought he couldn't stand it any longer, she took a deep breath and signed her name hurriedly, as if she was afraid she might change her mind. She stepped back and held the pen out, her eyes finding his as if looking for reassurance. He smiled gently at her, letting her know he wasn't upset by her nerves. He couldn't blame her, honestly.

Minelli and Cho quickly added their signatures, just in time for Rigsby to join them and sign as the officiant. He did look a little green around the gills, Jane noted.

When Rigsby was finished signing, Jane took his hand in a firm grip, wrapping his other hand around his wrist to monitor his pulse. "Thanks for doing this. We appreciate it, and we know you'll do a great job. It's very calming to have a friend with us and not a stranger. We're breathing easier because of it. It's nice not to worry, isn't it? Just breathing in and out and noticing the lovely sea air. In and out." He demonstrated; the salty tang in the air coming in through the partly opened balcony doors was calming, at least to him.

Rigsby responded without the least resistance; he was laughably easy to influence even when he wasn't looking for reassurance. Jane glanced at Lisbon and found her looking slightly envious, but there was no way she was going to let him do the same for her in front of witnesses. The best he could do for her at this point was to get this over with. "Well," he said heartily, releasing Rigsby, "now that we're done with the boring paperwork, shall we go outside and enjoy ourselves?"

mmm

It was a short drive to the state park Rigsby had suggested, and then a pleasant walk down a meandering path until they reached the sand and stopped to remove their shoes. Lisbon realized too late how short being barefoot made her seem, but it was too late to do anything about it now, she thought as she set her shoes at the edge of the walkway.

Jane put his next to hers with a smile as the others followed suit. "Don't worry," he said, bending close so he wouldn't be overheard. "We all look short standing next to Rigsby."

She rolled her eyes at him, because that was what she did when he pretended to read her mind. But she let him take her hand so they could walk out onto the beach together, the others trailing behind.

"We're off to a great start," Jane murmured to her, sounding amused. "Our officiant can't take his eyes off the maid of honor, the best man looks like he needs a tub of popcorn to properly enjoy the best show he's seen in months, and our one guest desperately wishes he were anywhere else. It'll be a funny story to tell the grandkids."

He shut up suddenly, as if realizing that wasn't the best thing to say. He must be a little rattled after all, she realized. "You can tell it to Annie, anyway. It might help her forgive me for not letting her be a bridesmaid."

"She would have loved the loaded accessories," Jane remarked.

They stopped a few feet from the waterline and turned to admire the view. Lisbon thought Rigsby had chosen well; there wasn't much cover for anyone to spy on them, especially since what little there was had been claimed by Cho's unnamed friends. She felt bad about not inviting them to brunch, at least, but Cho had insisted it was better not to draw attention to them.

They quietly arranged themselves, Rigsby with his back to the ocean and Cho and Grace on either side of the couple. Minelli pulled out his camera and stood a little further back so he could get them all in the shot. Lisbon was grateful for his foresight; she and Grace had decided that nobody would hire a photographer for a secret wedding, and everyone else already had a role to play.

The butterflies in her stomach were getting worse. She looked at Jane and tried to breathe evenly as Rigsby pulled out his notes and cleared his throat. Jane took both her hands in his, squeezing gently and giving her his best "it's all going to be fine" look.

"Uh, we are gathered here today to—"

"Wait," Lisbon said, her voice emerging as a weird croak.

Everyone froze, but Jane virtually turned into a statue, his expression going completely blank. She hurriedly rose up on tiptoe and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Marry me?"

Jane let out a whoosh of air, his entire body relaxing again. As she stepped back, he gave her a grin that started out shaky and became mischievous. He was obviously contemplating payback, although she had taken a leaf out of his book doing it this way.

Leaning down to put his lips to her ear, he replied, "You are an evil, evil woman. Fortunately, I love that about you. So yes, I will marry you, with pleasure."

She shivered at the suggestive emphasis he put on the last two words, smiling as he stood up straight again. They beamed at each other for a few moments, until Lisbon looked at Rigsby, jerking her head to say What are you waiting for?

Rigsby swallowed, looking confused, and started again. "We are, uh, gathered here today to witness—"

Lisbon tuned him out. She kept her eyes on Jane's, seeking and finding reassurance that this was right, this was true.

In no time, Jane was sliding the engagement ring off her finger and putting the wedding band in its place, then replacing the engagement ring. He had no trouble promising to love and cherish her for richer or poorer and in sickness and in health, but his voice cracked on "until death do us part." She wondered if maybe they should have written their own vows and left that part out. Too late now though.

Jane lifted her hand to kiss the ring he'd just given her, holding her gaze. She knew he was silently renewing his promise to always save her, which had always been as much to himself as to her.

Grace handed her the ring to put on Jane's finger. His hand shook slightly as she slid the ring on, or maybe hers were still shaking a little. But she kept her voice steady as she said her vows. She knew she could keep them; she had been loving him for a long time now in all kinds of situations, and she had no doubt that only death would stop her. Maybe not even that. I will save you, she thought as she lifted his hand to her lips to return his gesture. That was an old promise too, if only to herself.

Rigsby said, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss. Um, if you want to." Even in this role, he was obviously uncomfortable telling his boss what to do.

They both shot him an incredulous glance, and then Jane said, "Hm. Tough call."

"It's tradition, so I guess we have to," Lisbon replied, pretending reluctance.

"Come on, before Rigsby dies of starvation," Cho said.

"Oh yes, eggs await us," Jane exclaimed, as if just remembering. "In that case..." He leaned forward and gave her a brief, closed-mouth kiss that could best be described as polite.

"Oh, that didn't look fake at all," Lisbon complained. He grinned unrepentantly, unfazed by the sarcasm as always, and she supposed he was getting her back for the belated proposal.

"Congratulations," Grace said, hugging them both.

Cho contented himself with handshakes. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Lisbon."

Jane laughed as they shook hands with Rigsby and Minelli. Then Lisbon said, "Come on, let's eat. I could use a bear claw."

Everyone turned to head back, but Jane held Lisbon in place by taking her hand in his. When the others had moved away, he pulled her to him and gave her the kiss she'd wanted earlier—and then some. She poured her heart into it, all the emotion she wasn't good at expressing, her hands moving into his hair. She'd wanted to mess it up a little since she'd come back to their room to find him looking good enough to eat.

His hands moved around her waist, fingers brushing the gun at the small of her back. She felt him grin and knew he was wondering where the other one was. He'd find out later, she thought smugly.

When they parted, he smiled at her, genuinely happy and without any mask in place. She returned it wholeheartedly. Whatever happens, she thought, we have this perfect moment. Nobody can ever take that from us.

"I'm truly happy," she said, because she needed to make sure he knew.

He took her hand again, and they started after the others. "I'd forgotten what real happiness felt like," he said, sounding surprised.

She squeezed his hand. "Don't forget again."

"I won't, as long as I have you to remind me," he replied.

A/N: The anvil bit was inspired by an author's note from someone who was threatening to drop one on either Volker or Kirkland. Unfortunately my memory is shot so I can't remember the specifics. But it made me laugh and remember the concept, anyway, so whoever you are, thank you very much!