Title: Will You Marry Me?
Rating: T
Disclaimer: If I seriously owned this, she'd say yes already. Hehe.
Thank you to InMyVeins, Heidi Erickson, Crazygirl99, jasdin, xXCoral-RoseXx, Yen88, dddynamite, katiegirl101199, Ebony10, JackSam, Holz9364, A2Aholic, LunaLove, Famous4it, waterbaby134, Frogster, TeresaJane, 2AM, blueMnM415, raquelvalente91, LAurore, ShunKickShunkers, lysjelonken, .dolphins, 24Mentalistlover, Chiisana Minako, My Beautiful Ending, Jisbon4ever, shepweir always, Streak of the Sun, yaba, Brown Eyes Parker and In The Name for the lovely, amazing reviews!
I didn't abandon this story, and I promise that the next updates (as this story is coming to a close within the next two chapters or so) will be faster, as I'm not busy with anything besides school work, my job and the amazing multi-partner I've been working on with watchyouwalk called Aww, Nuts!
Anyway, I do own the poem that Jane reads in this chapter… I feel that if my poetry teacher knew I wrote it, he'd be after me with a crowbar ;) but for this chapter, it really did serve its purpose. I also have to thank the delightfully evil watchyouwalk, who provided the following words for me:
Gabble, Gadget, Gag, Gait, Gal and Gallop.
XVI.
He waits until Lisbon is in the middle of addressing her fellow agents to suddenly look interested in whatever she has to say. She ignores him when eventually, in the middle of her spiel, he throws his hand up in the air.
(She continues to ignore him, and he waves his hand wildly in the air to try and gain her attention—however, he somehow does manage to hit himself a few times to the amusement of Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt.)
Finally, Lisbon sighs and turns her head to stare at him.
"What?" He doesn't reply. "Does this have anything to do with our current case?"
"No…"
"Is this a comment about something I've said?"
"Not exactly…"
"Can this wait until after I'm finished?"
"No!"
Lisbon sighs. "Go ahead then,"
(He stands from the couch, and pulls out a sheet of paper from his jacket and Lisbon eyes him.)
"You better not be…"
"Hush, Lisbon." He tells her, with a giant grin as he clears his throat. "I wrote this, for our lovely Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon." The woman in question looks ready to kill him, and instead of flashing another smile, he glances down at the piece of paper to read from it:
"My dearest Lisbon,
Your surname rhymes with chlorofluorocarbon."
He raises his head to glance at her to see her making a slight face, and he grins. The pure intention of the first line was to throw her off, or at least make her uneasy.
"Although you may think I gabble,
The truth is, with you; I babble."
Rigsby chuckles under his breath.
"While my job is to try and not make you gag,
I've become your handsome little punching bag."
Lisbon narrows her eyes and he beams in her direction.
"Because with you, my lovely gal,
It's certainly less painful than a root canal."
"You're about to become my target practice." Lisbon hisses and he merely continues to read.
"So if you put me in cuffs,
I'll let you be rough."
"Jane!" Lisbon screeches.
"And if you get me in bed,
You'll get the go-ahead."
Van Pelt and Rigsby begin to laugh, as Cho smirks and Lisbon, instead of lecturing the consultant seems to be resigned to the fate of his poem.
"Better yet, hit me with your taser,
It'll undoubtedly be a curtain-raiser."
"What?" Lisbon asks, and he beams in return. "That makes no sense…"
"Honestly woman, I'm head over heels
Just to get into your court of appeals."
Nobody moves to say anything, and he continues on.
"Your dark hair is fine,
I'm drawing the line."
Nobody says anything for the next lines either, besides for quiet chuckles, which come from Van Pelt and Rigsby.
"Your green eyes are divine,
I'm floating on cloud nine."
"And if we wine and dine,
Have I crossed that line?"
"Jane, you crossed this line by writing this awful thing." Lisbon tells him. "Just stop reading it already."
"This should have been my opening line,
But, Lisbon; why won't you just be mine?"
He stops reading for a second to gage Lisbon's response to his question, and he notices with bright humor that she looks five minutes away from killing him.
"For the seventeenth time, no. I will not be yours."
"I can promise you'll never be replaced,
That's the main reason to gallop up, posthaste."
"I'm not accepting your marriage proposal, Jane."
"I can read your mind; I know what you're thinking,
And my dear, you should really do some rethinking."
"The only rethinking I'm going to be doing, is having allowed you to join us in this unit." Lisbon rants.
"Lisbon!" He admonishes. "I'm sure everybody else wants to hear the poem as well…" He looks around to the fellow agents, who are all smirking. "See, Lisbon?" He continues to ask her. "Play nice, it'll be over soon enough."
"I don't know why you're so against us,
Nobody else is oppressed, non-the-less."
"Maybe, that's because you're my consultant and I'm your boss?"
"I've checked the CBI handbook thrice,
You and I both know that will suffice."
"That doesn't even make sense! And when did you ever read the CBI handbook? Did you skim over the paragraph about how…?"
"There are no rules being mislead,
Thus Hightower cannot have your head."
"…of course not, your head won't roll because…"
"(If she tries, I'll make a call on my gadget
That'll have her judging teen pageants.)"
"What?" Van Pelt sputters. "You can't do that, Jane!"
"And now that you know my cunning plan,
Shall I ask Cho to be my best man?"
Everyone besides Lisbon glances at Cho, who seems to be worried about the idea of being Jane's best man, especially when his boss is the one that signs paychecks.
"You can think on it Cho," He tells him. "There's no rush."
"I haven't even said…!"
"Then, down the aisle we'll gait,
When should we set the date?"
Everyone falls silent within the bullpen as he shuffles to put his poem away, and then he glances back up at Lisbon.
"What'd you think?" He beams, and Lisbon narrows her eyes.
"We aren't setting a date, Jane…because for the last time, I'm not marrying you. Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe…I don't want to marry you, because we haven't been on a date yet."
"If I ask you on a date, will you marry me?"
"No."
"But, you just…"
"Jane that does not mean I want to go on a date with you; I'm just afraid you might have more poetry on you."
"Why?" He grins. "Did you like it that much?"
"Please, do tell me—in what parallel universe, does my last name rhyme with clarbonclufloxide?"
"Don't you mean chlorofluorocarbon?" He beams.
"No Jane, I mean the other "C" word." He doesn't reply, and she scoffs. "Of course, I do Jane! As much as I hate to admit it, I'm glad that you became our consultant."
(Maybe she will say yes…after-all, she's never actually said that she's glad he's their consultant.)
"…If only because it prevents you from publishing horrible pieces like that."
He pouts.
"It wasn't that bad!"
"Jane," Van Pelt interrupts. "You tried to rhyme gadget with the word pageant."
"I thought you could all appreciate my literary genius."
"Nope, not genius." Cho responds. "Not even close."
"Yeah, something else entirely." Rigsby chuckles.
"I thought it was good!" He defends, and Lisbon steps over to him and holds out her hand. "What?"
"Give me the poem."
"No."
"Jane!"
"It's mine!"
"Yet, you wrote it for me."
He pauses, before he reluctantly hands it over and she pockets it.
"Now, we're going to…"
"Does this mean you'll marry me now?"
(She ignores him, and carries on with her debriefing.)