A/N: thanks to you all reviewers (guests especially, as I can't say in person thank you) and followers, who keeps sending me alerts and reviews and the sort... thnaks. Why do you think I keep post? Because you tell me such amazing things!

Anyway... this story is also available at archive()of()our( ) , under this same title; here you'll also find the outfits used by our women here!

They had decided that, given the rushed nature of the wedding, a civil ceremony would have suited them both better; Teresa, rationally, considered it a practical choice, but she wondered if she didn't feel guilty about the idea about marrying Jane in front of God; after all, wasn't she and her soon-to-be husband supposed to be in love to be married in front of God? But Jane didn't love her as a man was supposed his wife, and she…

She didn't know what to do about herself. On one side, as the date approached, her feelings for Marcus diminished; she wasn't sure if she was following out of love with him or what, but as they had met in the hallway a couple of times after the party, she felt, somehow, better; her heart still jumped, but it was a conditioned reflex born out of habit; it seemed so long before she had cried herself to sleep before of heartache, and now she felt herself… void of emotions for him. She didn't want his happiness, nor she hoped he would be dumped or whatever. She felt nothing for him, and Teresa asked herself if Jane hadn't been right, if it hadn't been just in her head.

How could she had fallen for another man so soon afterwards, after all? Even if she guessed it wasn't exactly like that. Falling for Jane was something that had happened a long time before, when it just didn't make sense, when he wasn't the right choice, nor available; she had talked herself out of it so many times she had lost count, just to fall back under his spell with a word, a touch or an action.

Smiling as she looked at herself in the mirror, she thought back to the old days; she had loved him when he had first gone to her, at the CBI, desiring to save him from himself, and had fallen a little bit more in love with him when he had suggested dinner in the Napa Valley ("I'd never seduce you over a meal, it would be sophomoric."); she had first given up on him as the master of her heart when he had told her what he was planning for Red John, but then, he had gone and went undercover with Grace, with the redhead posing as his girlfriend, and the burning jealousy she had felt told her she wasn't as past as she had hoped; then, he had told her he didn't care about anything if it meant Red John was dead, and she had lectured him about it.

Of course, not even ten minutes later he went and killed his first and, at the time, only link to the killer to save her life. So, guess what? She fell back in love with him as more as never before.

It should have helped them sort out their feelings, she thought, and Teresa often wondered if she should have said something. But back then, Jane would have never listened to her. Besides, after that they kept going hot and cold, between his dates with Miss Frey and how he kept secrets and pushed them (her) away to protect her from Red John. Sometimes she wanted to scream, sometimes she wanted to kiss him, other to kill him, and that was only the start; they had worked together for so long, many years shared with mixed feelings, that she felt she was messed up by what she felt.

By his, then dismissed and denied and forgotten, declaration of love. By the way he told her she was sweet before leaving for six months. By the discovery that he had had sex with Lorelai Martins. By how he practically talked her into having sex with Mashburn. By his words before leaving, left on her phone. By his "you mean more to me than you could ever imagine". By being the first thing he wanted and needed to agree to be back on the US.

And yet... yet, once back, they didn't return to what they used to be. Part of her had wanted, believed that things would progress. That everything he had done and said to show her how much he cared about her in the years meant that he, too, felt the same, and the only reason he hadn't acted on those feelings before was because he couldn't, and not because he didn't want. But things, once in Austin, hadn't processed; Jane hadn't moved on, and even if now she was happier than she had ever been, after playing his arm candy she realized that he wasn't there. Maybe it was a matter of time, but what if it wasn't? She didn't know if it was worth the risk, waiting for him. So, it hadn't been that hard taking her decision: fearing that the outcome would be of solitude and Jane may never try anything ("What's between us it's platonic" he had once said), she had looked around.

And Marcus was there. Marcus was there where Jane wasn't. So, really, was there really any choice at all?

But now the roles were reversed; it wasn't just that Marcus wasn't there any longer; it was that she understood that her decision had been based on convenience. If Marcus hadn't asked her out for pancakes that evening, she would have never been the one to ask him out. If he had swept her off feet with the clear promise of sex with no strings, she would have agreed, because he would have been just like all the other men who had come and gone after she and Jane crossed paths. None of them had stayed: only Jane, and it was time she accepted that he was just taking the rightful place he had always had in her heart. Only, now he was doing it in real life, too. Jane was going to be her husband for real; but did it really matter? After all, how many times had people asked her how long had they been married? If they had a relationship? She had lost count: it had to be a sign, she thought as she took a big breath and smiled at her reflex in the mirror. After all, in a couple of our, she was going to get married to Jane, and she didn't want to have wedding nerves. Grace and Tommy were panicking enough for the all of them. only Annie (and Cho, obviously) were strangely calm. Her nice was even too cheerful, something that worried Lisbon a little (because it screamed Jane), but apparently, she had just won a lot of money- something about having seen the signs already the first time they all met up; because who else would offer a teenager a complete spa experience, if not her uncle-to-be?

"Ok, so… are we ready?" Tommy asked as he entered in her bedroom, clapping his hands. Even from afar, Teresa could see that, despite his apparent composure in the dark blue suit, he was sweating, and the sight made her turn into a real girl from once: it was so… sweet, seeing her little brother being so moved by the fact that his sister was getting married, it was melting her whole heart.

Teresa wanted to shake her head, but she didn't, scared to ruin or undo the delicate and intricate Grecian hairstyle, the dark locks knotted by flower-shaped pins filled with light blue strass. "Tommy, we are just ten minutes top from City Hall, and we still have over half an hour before the ceremony." She reached her brother, and blew him a kiss in the air, at his cheek's level; she wasn't an expert in waterproof and kiss-proof lipsticks, so who knew if it was really going to stay as perfect as when Grace had helped her putting it?

Grace, in that moment, entered, dressed with a nice cocktail dress in blue; Kim was there as well, dressed too with a simple dress, as violet as the purest amethyst. Both women were going to be bridesmaids (Annie had begged her not to- too girly-girl for her own taste) and Kim had showed what a great friend she could be. She had sense of humor but was practical, and seemed to be able to calm people down. Grace, all excited about the wedding – more than the bride and groom- had kept entering in the room, looking around asking if they had everything, if something was wrong and if Lisbon wanted something for her nerves…

"Ehy, you are beautiful, Teresa. I hope Jane knows how lucky he is." Lisbon didn't say anything at Kim's compliment, she just blushed. She didn't know what Jane thought or if he was lucky; she just hoped her friend was right and wasn't lying through her teeth.

The truth was, Teresa had been kind of… well, it was hard to explain, but in short, she hadn't known how to tackle the whole wedding dress thing. At first, she had told Jane that, as she had never thought about her wedding, she didn't think she could go with the whole white thing. She had said that she wanted something simpler, more practical, that maybe she could, someday, re-use (hence, why her bridesmaids were dressed just as they liked); but, when she had gone looking for her dress (knee length, colored, with a jacket, and sensible shoes), after she had gone through five shops without finding anything that she liked, well, in the last shop, while the saleswoman had gone looking for an item she thought could suite Lisbon, her eyes had fallen upon a certain item of clothing, and it had been love at first sight.

With a wedding dress.

It was white- despite the fact that she had always said "if I'll ever get married, I'll never wear white", but as soon as she had seen it, she knew that having it was imperative. She had been glad when she had tried it on, discovering that it fitted her perfectly. Also, despite being both being a wedding dress and white, it still was perfect for a civil ceremony: it was in soft and cascading shining fabric, with a heart décolletage, with the V-neck and the ¾ sleeves made of old lace; the tulle skirt was both classic and yet modern, making her feel like a real bride (well…), but the shoes (because she was a shoes fetish and she loved her shoes like almost the whole feminine population of the world) were very modern: extremely high white stiletto heels, worked in the front and in the back in a lace motive of heart and swirls in lasered suede. They had costed her a fortune, over 1.000 dollars, and she already knew that by the end of the days she would swore revenge on them promise to never, ever wear them again nor buy something like that, but she loved them, and she felt that Jane, as attracted as he was to her, would have appreciated her parading in her wedding lingerie and her heels for a long time to come…

She smiled, back to reality, and breathed in and out as she took hold of Tommy's hand; Kim and Grace followed them outside and closed the apartment (for a long time to come) while her brother helped her into the car; she had hoped to get one of Jane's vintage cars for the drive and the honeymoon, but Abbott had explained that until Jane wasn't due with his "sentence" his assets would still be frozen and untouchable. At the end, her fiancé had asked to one of his "poker-friends" to lean him a bright red, brand 500 convertible, and it was in that car- arranged with few white ribbons and some flowers - that she and Tommy drove to City Hall.

They had arrived there just in time- hey, she loved being on time, and it was her wedding day, after all, no need to allow Jane to talk himself out of getting married – and despite the fact that it was a simple ceremony and just few people were there (their coworkers, their old coworkers, Tommy and Annie), her bridesmaids and her family still entered before her; Teresa was the last one to walk into the room, at Tommy's arm.

And Jane was already there, waiting for her, giving her his back; she slowly walked towards him, but when she was almost there he turned, and smiled at her. His eyes were wide, his smile sincere, and smiled in kind, blushing under the thin blusher. And it wasn't just his smile. He looked very handsome: he was wearing new clothes, light grey with a light blue tie, black shiny shoes and his hair was worked to perfection. Jane tried to say something- she thought it was "hey" but she couldn't be sure because she was dreamy- but she didn't even try to hold a conversation with him; yes, it wasn't nor the place or the time (even if Judge Willis was a friend from her poker nights and had a great sense of humor), but also she couldn't; her mind was somewhere else altogether.

So much that she missed Jane's vows- not that there was a lot to miss, as they had chosen standard vows – and almost (almost) missed her own ones.

"Teresa?" Willis asked, looking at her with a lifted eyebrows; at her side, Jane was laughing (just like Tommy), while Grace was almost scandalized. "Do you want me to repeat my question?"

She nodded, blushing, and smiling and almost laughing, Willis repeated the question. "Teresa, do you take Patrick to be your husband?"

She nodded under her veil. "I do."

"Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all other and holding only unto him?"

"I do" she repeated, the breath dying in her throat. God, it was happening. She couldn't believe it.

They got the point of the ceremony when they exchanged their rings, and to Teresa's dismay, again Jane choose the classical formula; she had guessed he would have done so, as this marriage was based more on affection than romantic love, but she had still hoped that he would have surprised her with a spur of the moment thing. But he hadn't: simply, when he put the ring on her finger he smiled, and kissed her hand, and Teresa's heart clenched, both with happiness and a hint of something she couldn't identify: regret, jealousy? She wasn't sure. All she knew was that she couldn't stop thinking about Jane's wedding with Angela, wondering about how he had acted, what he had said, how she had been dressed…

Before she knew it, the ceremony was over, and Tommy was again reaching out for his sister, lifting the blusher like in al old movie, when the bride was presented to her groom for the first time. She smiled, and he answered in kind, with a Cheshire cat grin; when he knew she wasn't waiting for it, he bent quickly, and kissed her lightly as she threw her arms around his neck and answered to his kiss with a little bit more of passion, without, though, letting things get too steamy.

Afterwards, they had a small party at Jane's place- where they had decided they would be moving in once the week-long honeymoon was over- preferring a catered meal over restaurant since it was just the few of them; Tommy and Annie had already promised to clean the following day, as they had the keys and were helping Teresa moving.

It was a small affair, with people talking about their past at the CBI and hoe they had seen it coming (Grace and Wayne), the present at the FBI and how they had always knew there was much more than it met the eyes with those two (Abbott and Fisher), a complementation from Cho, and Tommy and Annie's tales of what Teresa used to say when she called them with tales of Jane and how she wanted to inflict bodily harm to her consultant.

"Ehy, do you want to leave?" Jane asked around five o'clock, eyeing her dress. He looked at her quizzically, as to say, Do you want to get changed before leaving?

Knowing what he meant, she shook her head; the dress was sensible, and the heels, yes, they were killing her feet, but she could always leave them once in the car. Jane sent a text to Rigsby, who vanished for a short while, appearing after a couple of minutes giving Jane the keys of the car- Wayne wasn't the most serious person they knew, but he was scared enough of Jane, and respected Teresa enough, to not mess with the car.

"OK, PEOPLE, WE ARE LEAVING!" Jane screamed, with laughter in his voice, as he took Teresa for her hand, and practically dragged her out; the few guests immediately dropped what they were doing to throw white confetti at the couple, and Lisbon had merely the time to launch her bouquet of white roses, tulips and freesia at Kim, who put it together with her smaller one; both Teresa and her fresh husband were quite happy when the FBI agent didn't blush, but smiled brightly and shook her head, inhaling the fragrance of the flowers, while Cho, at her side, looked at Jane like he wanted to kill him: the Korean had admitted few weeks before, after too many beers, that he didn't mind his co-worker, and apparently the mentalist now was hard at work, trying to get him to tie the knot, too.

"Put your belt on." Jane told Lisbon as he speed in the street; Teresa was already in the process of doing so, but Jane had been quicker in maneuvering the car, so that, despite knowing how he drove and despite his words, she was thrown against him.

"Watch it, driver." She told him hissing, glaring at him; but her expression didn't scare him- and made him, instead, laugh. And like often, Teresa felt herself compelled to join him.

He tsk-tsked her, smiling as soon as he was back in control of himself. "Watch it, wife. You don't want me to go all caveman on you!" he watched at her like a pirate in old and b-movies did, and she laughed again, deciding to join in the fun answer in kind to his provocations. After all, they both knew they were just that: words. Lisbon was more than able to kick his ass- physically- and even if she wasn't, Jane suspected that those murderous, delicious and sexy as hell heels she had thrown in the back of the car could easily qualify as white weapons.

"Oh, poor me! and to say people had warned me that you secretly were a chauvinist pig! What will I do now?"

"Eh, Reese…" he told her, sighing like he was sorry and something terrible had truly happen, her nickname escaping his lips like it was the most natural thing in the world, warming her heart up with joy and a sense of belonging she had never felt before. "I fear you'll not escape me any longer, now…"

She knew his statement was a theatric, but it was true. she knew now it was forever, that there was no going back. She belonged to Jane- calling him Patrick still felt weird -, and Jane belonged to her. She couldn't speak for him, but she was sure that now she had made the right choose, and that if he wanted her, she was going to stay at his side forever, or at least as long as he was going to want her.

They drove in comfortable silence for over half an hour, and if Jane was faithful to his words and was careful with the road (and the manual shifting gear), Teresa took her time looking at him, and sometimes drawing lazy pattern on his slacks. She smiled every time she saw his gulping at her touch, glad that she had an effect on him, that she was seeing the evidence that it was real. And that he was, finally, after so many years, hers. She asked again how could she had fooled herself into believing that Marcus could be the one; loving someone for so long, even if she and Marcus had gotten married, she now knew that Jane's shadow would have always been there. Her marriage would have probably been deteriorated, but she would have tried to keep appearances up, trying to make it works because she was a good Catholic girl who wanted her happily ever after. Or maybe they would have drifted apart, and she would have returned to Austin, moping after Jane and things that hadn't been. But not now. Now, she had the real deal.

Their destination was a small cottage on lake Travis, only half an hour from Austin; Lisbon wasn't sure how Jane had obtained the beautiful, European-style construction, but he didn't believe not even for a second that the place was rented; it wasn't like she didn't think people couldn't change their habits, she knew his colors, and just like the car had been "won" at poker, she was sure that a deck of card was responsible for the temporary ownership of the small building with a private seaside.

Her husband (she giggled every time she thought of him as such) took their suitcases in the building, and then come back to her; Teresa was still sitting in the car, her feet dangling outside, the heels back in place, his eyes mesmerized by the sight. He offered her his hand, but Teresa simply stood, and entered, knowing that his eyes were glued to her, to every single step she took, to the way she moved.

"And here I thought you were all about tradition and wanted for me to carry you inside…" he sighed, in a mocked tone, as she left herself fall on the couch; even those few steps had hurt her feet, and sighing in pleasure at closed eyes, she got rid of the heels, throwing them against the wall in the farthest corner.

"Please." She said rolling her eyes. "Even you are not such a caveman. Besides, you are an old man, Jane. I'm just being careful with your back. Besides, wouldn't it be terrible? A fresh bride, having to look after her injured husband on their honeymoon… thanks, but no thanks."

"Oh, really'" he said, smiling, launching himself at Teresa; but she was a cop, an FBI agent and had been e runner when younger, so, as soon as she read her intentions, she started to run first, from room to room, like they were children, like they were character from a silly cartoon, until they didn't land on the bed, all iron and silk and romance and sex.

He stopped to laugh, nuzzling her neck, and kissed her, once, twice, three times, the passion increasing with every touch of his lips, of their tongues. He run his fingers in her hair, and then groaned, parting from her. Lisbon sat up, and looked at her, with a mix of horror and rage and fear, all mixed together. They hadn't been intimate yet: was he scared now? Did he feel guilty? Didn't he want her any longer?

"Your hairdo is… inhibiting me." he admitted. Teresa shook her head, and laughed, and without saying anything, she went to sit on the small vanity, her back to him. She was in the process of taking off the first of many pins, when he put his hands on her shoulders, making her shiver. He massaged her sore muscles, and she enjoyed the contract, leaning in his touch.

"Allow me." He asked with a rough voice, and she simply nodded, unable to resist him. He undid the knots, and freed her hair that fell in soft waves on her shoulders, just how he had always liked them; he contemplated taking a brush and to that for her too, one hundred time, like that old wife's tale, working them to shiny perfection, but decided not to: this was her. like he had always wanted her. Like he had always desired her.

He made her stood up, and without adding a word, he took her hand in his own ones, and walked backwards toward the bed, discharging his shoes on the way; he felt Lisbon tremble, out of fear, expectation, nerves or what, he couldn't say, but when he laid down and took her in his arms, her arms around his neck, her fingers running into his curls, he shushed her. She looked at her quizzically, and he kissed her hair, tenderly and protective, with the sweetest gesture anyone had ever done for her.

"Rest, Reese, you are tired. It's been a few emotional days."

"But…" she said, a sneaky finger running on his chest, torturing his skin through the first few opened buttons, but he stopped her, shaking his head.

"I've wanted you for a long time. It's not going to hurt me to wait a day or two more. What you need is a decent rest, and that's what you are going to have. Now stop worrying, you're hurting my brain."

He held her until she didn't feel asleep, and it didn't take long- for the both of them. for the first time in years.