We've reached the end, friends. Sorry it's been another long wait, this story means a lot to me and I've been trying to give it a good enough ending. I don't think I've really succeeded, because I don't see this story ending at all, but here is AN ending because that's how fics work, and I want to mark this complete before we're all 100.
Final installment in two parts, to end on 50.
You open your door for Jane, who is balancing your boxed lunches in one hand and her open coffee in the other. Eating in your office is infinitely preferable to the café, with its loud chatter and wobbly aluminum chairs.
Her first bite of her sandwich pulls out an entire tomato slice that falls onto her lap, and she grumbles profanely. The way she then sets down the sandwich and removes its top bun worries you.
"You're not going to put it ba-" you grimace as she does exactly that.
"I paid for it. They only gave me one." She reassembles it and bites in.
You sigh, returning to your salad. "I don't know why I was surprised. I've seen you eat French fries off the floor mat of your cruiser."
"Only fresh ones," she answers defensively. "I have standards."
"At least it won't show," you dab at her black pants with your napkin. She doesn't seem bothered.
"Why y'think I never wear light colors," she smirks through a mouthful.
You eat in silence for a minute.
"Hey, so..." she nudges your knee with hers. "When you picture me smiling at you at our wedding... what do I look like?"
"Unfathomably beautiful."
"Besides that..."
"What do you mean?"
"Am I in a dress?"
Ah, the old talk me into wearing a dress routine.
"You'd look lovely in a dress, but you don't have to wear one if you don't want to. You could wear your uniform?"
Half her face crinkles. "Are you into that?"
"I definitely want a photo with it, but that doesn't mean that's what you have to wear for the ceremony. You'd look dashing in a tuxedo, how about that?"
"Is dashing how I'm trying to look? I mean... I don't do the feminine thing super well, but the few times I ever did vaguely imagine my wedding, I was the bride... but a tux would probably be way more comfortable..."
You roll your eyes. There are a few conversations in there, and you've had all of them already.
"You have the rare luxury of being able to pull off any of those looks equally marvelously."
She slouches back on the couch. "C'mon, help. Just tell me what you wanna see me in."
"This is about what you want. Not me, not your mother. I want to see you in whatever you want to wear," you poke her knee. "Oh, that was dangerously broad. If you're going to use that as license to wear your lucky jersey, can it not be the outermost layer?"
She laughs.
It's a minor tragedy that someone with Jane's looks would be so squirmy and fashion-resistant. You don't envy Angela the task of helping dress her.
Your prediction? She'll drag her feet until the last minute, and 70/30 she'll end up in a tuxedo or a jumpsuit, on the logic that it's pants undercover as a dress.
Your mother has already come to a fitting with you, and you're pleased with your choices. Silk charmeuse and ivory beaded lace. Sweep train (not quite Princess Diana, but something). Off-the-shoulders (Jane likes your shoulders). You're still deciding what to do with your hair.
What you know so far about the wedding is that there will be zero guests. You couldn't divvy up who would do what without somebody being left out, so everyone at it will be in it.
It took a night on the couch with a pint of ice cream to accept that you're both going to inform, but not invite your fathers; Korsak will walk Jane down the aisle, and Barry, you.
Each of you has a mother for a matron of honor, and Susie is more touched than you expected at the invitation to be your bridesmaid. You never realized there were so many colors that you dislike, but she has suggested all of them for the dresses.
It took another entire night - you and Angela (for) vs. Jane and Frankie (against) - to decide that Tommy should be trusted as ringbearer. You chose white gold, and Jane had them made and engraved. Love always. J and Love always. M. If they do get dropped down a storm drain or traded for magic beans, the replacements are on you.
Frankie is best man, and already agonizing over his toast; you and Jane want to say something, too. Probably she'll do something funny, and save any nice things to say in private later when she won't mind getting emotional.
For the same reason, probably, she seemed stressed at the idea of exchanging custom vows, so you'll just keep it short and sweet with traditional ones.
Travelling the same day would be too frazzling, so you're taking a few days off work before leaving for your honeymoon. The idea is to allow yourselves a more leisurely time preparing, but you already know that a lot of it won't be spent packing.
There's a knock at the door.
"Dr. Isles?"
"Yes?"
Susie leans in bearing a folder. "Sorry, I know you guys are eating, but that tox screen is ready."
Jane wipes her hands eagerly, reaching for it. "Thanks."
"Thank you, Susie." Still feeling her presence as you read over the printout, you look back up.
"Mountbatten," she says excitedly.
"In.. his blood?" Jane squints down at the papers, turning a page. "What is that?"
"It's a color," you share a smile with Susie over her head. "We'll add it to the list of considerations."
After watching her go, Jane gives you a look that is both hopeful and wary.
"That sounded... blue?"
You pull up an example on your phone. She feigns a dry heave.
Boston has its first really frigid night of the season, and after dinner, Jane surprises you by lighting the fireplace. That is, you make yourself scarce for about twenty minutes of grumbling attempts and then pretend to be surprised.
The wedding is fast approaching; between that and work, your moments of relaxation lately have been few. It's a treat just to curl up in front of the fire with her arm around you, and for a long time, neither of you says anything.
"Are you all weddinged out for today, or can I talk to you?"
"Of course," you answer contentedly, your head on her shoulder.
"I've been thinking about the vows."
"Mhm."
"We agreed to just stick with the classics. So I'm going to say love, honor and cherish. But I gotta say protect. And I want you to know what I mean when I say it."
Your smile has a trace of a laugh in it. "You've already illustrated very well what it means."
"That's not what I mean," she doesn't really laugh. "I mean- of course. There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe. I would fight for you down to my last breath, you know that. And I love that, but I don't just mean it like that, like.. big dramatic stuff. That's easy. Sometimes it's the little stuff, day to day stuff, that's harder and more important. And I don't think the vows are supposed to be about the parts of those words that come easy... otherwise what's the point?"
"That's true." You look up at her from her shoulder. "So tell me what you mean."
"What I'm vowing is to protect you in ways you actually need, even if that's at odds with what I wanna do. To listen to you and give you what you ask for, instead of thinking I know best and just doing the first thing my instinct hands me. The point is.. protecting you from me, if I have to.
"I've been thinking what there is to protect you from, on the average day. And.. I think you've felt... alone, before, a lot more than you deserved to. I want being my wife to mean you never feel alone again. At all, but especially not because of me. I want you to be able to take for granted that I'll always be on your side... always be there for you... always remember my duty is to you before anybody else. I've failed you on that before, and I hate it, and I don't want to again.
"So in case I'm ever starting to, I want it to be like... like you get a magic word you can say and I'll just... shut up, drop what I'm doing, and come stand by your side. Doesn't matter if it's something little or life and death or literal or emotional.. that's where I intend to be." She gives your shoulder a squeeze against hers.
"Jane," you cup her cheek in the firelight.
"Figure it's more useful than vowing to slay dragons for you," she adds with a shy smile that makes it impossible for you not to brush her hair aside and kiss her. "Although if you do see any.." she murmurs against your lips.
"What's the magic w-" you start to ask, realizing you know what would stop her in her tracks already. "'Protect me' is two words."
It brings closed-eyed smile to her face.
"Careful, that's potent," she warns, kissing you again. "Reminds me, I was also gonna vow to do my diligence during mating season," she adds, making you snicker against her face. "Maybe we file that under 'cherish,' yeah?"
"Yeah." You put a finger to her lips. "I want to give you a magic word too."
"Oh? What's mine do?"
You watch the fire, thinking for a moment about what would be most valuable to her. You look down at your hand in hers, your thumb over her scar, and you rub at it gently.
"Comfort," you answer. "I was so honored when I realized that you considered me a safe place. That you could trust me with things you never planned to share at all... that I was where you came when you just needed things to be... safe and soft for a while. I want to be that for you always. A wife who you can come to for comfort, no matter what. And you're right, not just in the easy ways... not just during the good times." You run your fingers through her hair.
"My vow is to be your port even when I might also be the storm. Even if I am what you need to be comforted about. It's unrealistic to think that we'll never have bad, busy days... never have a major fight... never feel distant from each other. If there's ever a time when you feel like you can't come to me, I want you to say the word, and it'll just be an immediate time-out... we'll put everything aside, and I'll be that place for you. Literally or emotionally... for a moment or for the night. Especially the night."
She watches you pat the place where she likes to lay her head and listen to your heart.
"To have you sleep with me has always been a sacred thing. Maybe you won't always need it like you once did, but... I want my heart to always be that place for you."
Her trembly smile looks like this was the right thing to say.
"I'll never not need that."
"Look," you smile, pressing her palm against your chest. "It's excited."
She breathes a short laugh upward and bites her lips together, eyes suddenly reflecting the fire especially well.
"You're too good," she says, voice tight, kissing your hair and tucking her face into it. "Way too good."
"So what should your magic word be?"
You can feel her smile into your hair.
"'Warm milk' is two words."
Final chapter will post by next week. :)