From One-shot,. the story has been promoted to multi-chapter, although I'm not quite sure how many more you'll have; Many of you asked for a sequel, and so, I thought about giving a bit more of space to Annie and the marvelous Jisbon romace we're still waiting to see in "reality"...
As always, thanks to everyone who, with reviews, or putting me and the story on alert or on fav, gave me resons to go on with this story.
And, please, keep in mind: I still don't ow the mentalist...
Teresa had an idea of what she wanted her wedding to look like, and, as beautiful as marrying Jane the first time had been, that didn't even get close to her ideal wedding dream (counting the guy who married them, herself and Patrick, there had been exactly 12 people and the wedding), But, still, it was just an idea, a vision, in a certain way, while Grace, instead…
Grace didn't have an idea of how she wanted her wedding to look like, Grace knew what she wanted for her wedding, and, apparently, she knew it since the tender age of 6.
Apparently, Grace's family was the typical American large family, and, apparently, Grace was the perfect little girl every father would have, and the scrapbook about her wedding showed how typical she was; the fact that it was typical didn't helped the fact that, the first time she saw it on Grace's desk, the day after the proposal, Lisbon was taken back and, frankly, a bit scared as well: Grace hadn't just planned the season she wanted to get married in, the music, the flowers, the kind of dinner and the menu she wanted to have after the ceremony; Grace had even personally choose the dress more than ten years prior, with the help of her younger sister (because, as scary as it was, what she had choose for her wedding day was Millennium's Barbie wedding dress) and the ones of the bridesmaids (again a curtsey of Mattel Toys, to be more precise, of Barbie's friends playing bridesmaids), that were in an horrible nuance of green that she hated.
The bad thing was that it took them a lifetime to find someone who accepted to realize the dresses. The good thing was, once resolved that problem, since everything was already decided (apparently, Wayne's idea of planning a wedding was the same as Jane – let her do what makes her happy, and you'll be happy as well, especially in some departments) planning the wedding was going to be quick and easy.
And it was: after the 3 months needed to get the dress of her dreams, Lisbon's dress was there, hanging against the wardrobe, and the only thing her owner seemed to want to do about it was staring at the "creation" at crossed arms, while waiting to wear it the following day.
"You'll be lovely" he told her, hugging from the back and placing a kiss on her shoulder. Teresa tuned to face him, smiling a bit, of that I'm annoyed kind of sarcastic smile.
"Patrick, let's face the truth: not even Claudia Shiffer or Naomi Campbell could look lovely with a marsh green dress"
"Well, at least you don't have to wear a tuxedo – he said with the same look she had before facing the dress at the side of his wife's one, his dress for the wedding – besides, I don't know, there's something about that dress that speaks to me…"
At the last statement, underlined by an enormous grin, she rolled in response his eyes; the dress was speaking to him? Please! After they got together, everything spoke to him at maximum volume! Hell, he looked at her like a vulture ready to jump on her and making her clothes into pieces even when she was wearing just a track suit!
"Jane, all my clothes say something to you."
"Yes, dear, but when you wear the ones that hug you so well… Sorry, but I can't help but wanting you so badly when you have something like that on- he made one of his trademarks smile, hugging her just to have a full session of tickling – sorry, but if you want to blame someone, just blame yourself!"
Normally, it took him longer to convince her to lose her inhibitions, especially when there was the danger of Lucas starting to cry, but, for once, he didn't even had to start the battle at all- she gave up as soon as their bodies hit the bed.
The following day, everything went as planned.
The Cathedral was full of tulips and lilacs and lilies and roses; the orchestra (yes, there was a small orchestra) was playing as everyone walked towards the aisle, Teresa and Patrick (Lucas was too small to play the role of the flower boy, being just 8 months old; he couldn't already walk, but his Aunt Grace and his Uncle Wayne wanted him there at any cost, so he got to stay in his Aunt Claire's arms), Cho and his girlfriend (a nice woman a bit younger than him called Amanda), Grace's two brothers with their wives and, finally, her sister and her husband, as everyone took place at the respective sides of the aisle, Grace's nice walked, in the same way Annie had when, two years before given or taken, Teresa and Patrick got married; finally, at her father's arms, Grace entered in the church, dressed as a princess, and behaving like one.
There were the tears, there were the cheers, the hurrahs, there were everything grace had wanted from her wedding day, and, mostly, she had Wayne, like she had hoped since day one (and, even if she didn't want to admit it, the definition of day one featured on her dictionary wasn't "the first day we kissed" or "the day we got together", but "first day of work at the CBI, when I put my eyes on the hottest guy I've ever met, and no, I'm not talking about Jane- for Jane, see Most Irritating man of ever"). There was the dinner, and there was the best wine California could offer (that Teresa refused; apparently, Jane had spoiled her, with all those wines from Italy and France… and before they started dating, she used to buy her own wine at the supermarket. Ah, what bad influence the man was having on his wife…), and, obviously, there were the dances with the slow music- with Jane that accepted to see his Lisbon dancing only with the Jane males, him and their son, dressed with a tuxedo in miniature, with the tie drawn on the shirt.
"Are you all right? Teresa, what's wrong?" he said, worried, as he tried to convince her to give up dancing after the last headache of the day.
"I'm fine, I'm just a bit… dizzy, I think. It had to be the confusion, and then… I'm happy for them, this is all. They almost – she started to cry – they almost lose it all because I haven't been able to fight for my team and if not for you…"
"Technically speaking, you were the one who made a scene at Hightower because she didn't want Rigsby and van Pelt together, while ordering me to shout up. Hottest thing of ever, my love…" he said, matter of fact, with calm and soft voice, trying to reassure her, as his wife kept her face against his shoulder; it was weird, because Teresa was behaving all emotional and hormonal, but he was sure that she wasn't in that part of the month yet, and that was the only possible option. Well, there was still another option, but… nah, he sent the thought away. It couldn't be possible; after all… No, it was too early, but, still… no, no way, she couldn't… or could she?
"You know – he said grinning, hoping that his bellowed wife wasn't going to laugh at his statement – I didn't realize the dress hugged your forms so well, the first time you tried it on, a month ago..."
"I put on some weight. You always say I'm too petite, are you complaining now?" she tried to say, looking everywhere but at him, while keeping the same peace at dancing, and doing the terrible mistake of biting her lips (he really didn't need to be a mentalist to know that we she avoided eye-contact and bite her lips was because she was telling lies, other lies and more lies…)
"Oh, no, I'm not complaining, I mean, look at yourself. You've never been that beautiful before. It's like you are shining, glowing in a divine aura of beatitude and magnificence. Like I'm not complaining – he continued, looking into her eyes, his grin getting bigger and bigger with the seconds passing – about the fact that you seem unable to resist the urge to drag me to the closest private place. I mean the coat closet? I'm your husband, and a mentalist, and I didn't see that coming!"
"Stop to smile like an idiot, or you'll never get lucky with me again" she hissed stepping in his feet on purpose with her high heeled, thinking that God or who for him had made them for a good reason then, and not to torture her, but to hurt that annoying brat of her husband.
"Ouch, Teresa, you hurt me! – he pretending being hurt, both emotionally and physically, a hand on his heart (and, since said hand was still holding hers, she ended having one hand on his heart as well) - you know, Tess, you've been very emotional in the last few days…"
"I'm going through a visit of my monthly friend" she tried, again, to defend herself, doing the same mistake of the first time he had asked her a question that evening.
"Tess, I've learned to keep track of your menstruations, because it's how they are called, and no way I'll call them Monthly friend or whatever you women call them for unknown even to God reasons… anyway, I've learned to keep track of them two months after I joined your unit, and, as you once said, you are never early or late, you are a Swiss clock, with a perfect interval of 28 days. Meaning – he said whispering in her right ear – you are not having menstruations right now"
She looked at him with panic: of course she knew Patrick knew everything about her, and she was well aware that he had this knowledge even before they started dating, but this? He knew of her cycle? He… he calculated it? What the hell was wrong with this man? Oh Lord and she had married him. Great, now she had to stick with him for life, health and sickness and blah, blah, blah…
"Teresa, May I ask you a simple question?" he looked into her eyes, smiling happy, seeing that she was, instead, a bit frightened, unsecure, and he really didn't know why. Even if he was right, she didn't have to be scared, or, was she having second thoughts, or maybe, maybe, maybe…
"Patrick, I know how your mind works, and I know what the question is going to be, but, you see, the fact is… – she lowered her voice, not as scared as he thought she was, there was something else – I only did one of those do it yourself test, and… well, I'll not allow myself… - she corrected herself immediately – I'll not allow ourselves to believe it until I'll heard Abby saying so."
He took her in his arms, tightening his hold around her, and, slow dancing, started to whisper again to her. "I'll not mind if you'll want to get married with that beautiful big tummy of yours… of course, we can wait until she'll be born…"
"She" she simply stated looking into his eyes, looking quizzically at her husband with lifted eyebrows.
"Of course, Teresa, because, as I know you're really pregnant, and my question was just about how far you think we could be – he said with that idiotic 100 watts smile of his, pinching the tip of her nose like he did to Annie and Toni many times, and like he was going soon to do with his godchildren, Mick and Claire's twins Alexis and Jason – I know we are going to have a daughter!"
He couldn't know for sure that she was pregnant, or the gender of the baby yet. Ok, he had guessed the sex of both Lucas and of the twins, but it was luck, right? It wasn't like he was a real psych, he just was…
"You know Jane, sometimes I really hate you"
"Ehy, if this is the way you behave with the people you hate, what are you going to do with the ones you really love? -he joked, doing that same idiotic expression. – ah, the soccer team is coming…"
"The soccer team…. Do I want to know what you are talking about?"
"Just answer the goddamn question, woman, and tell me we'll get married again!"
"Ehy, I was the one who asked you in the first place!"
"But I'm the one who asked you today and you haven't told me if you want to marry me while you'll be expecting Julie?"
"Julie?" She asked with a tender voice, almost broken by tears, but smiling happy at the same time. He hadn't forgotten!
"Yeah, Juliet Teresa Jane… we wanted to use it for our firstborn, was it going to be a girl, I don't see why we shouldn't…"
He was going to end the sentence, he really didn't know how, but he knew he was going to, but… as soon as Teresa took his face between his hands and kissed him on the lips while in tears of happiness, like she had done when she had told him of Lucas, he really didn't care at all. They really didn't need any word.
"Yes"
"Ok, Tess, listen, you have to stop this, ok? Because you answer with a monosyllable without specifying what you are answering to, so I don't know if you are answering yes to the will you marry me again question, or to the will you marry me while you'll be waiting to have Julie question, and even if I claimed to be a psych, it doesn't mean that I…"
Again he was going to end the question; again he was stopped by her lips on his own. "Find me a decent maternity wedding dress – she said between kisses – and I'll marry you before the end of this pregnancy, ok?"
"Like I love to repeat you, woman- he said between kisses, smiling in them and forcing Teresa to suppress the moans of pleasure he was sending through her entire body – I live to save, serve and pleasure you…"
Yeah, he really enjoyed Teresa under hormones; he really, really loved her…
