I do not own Blindspot or its characters.
She'd forgotten what a wonderful cook Kurt was.
Jane sighed in satisfaction as she reached for a second helping of his spaghetti and snagged an extra piece of garlic bread as well. Her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Kurt's satisfied smirk. "What? I skipped lunch today." And breakfast hadn't been much to write home about either.
"Jane . . ." Kurt's smile instantly disappeared, and he covered her hand with his to get her attention. "You shouldn't be skipping meals." In fact, he was going to make it his personal mission to make sure she didn't from now on. She was skinny enough as it was, and she needed to keep her strength up for the work they did.
Jane fought back the wave of defensiveness that swamped her. She could hear the genuine concern in Kurt's voice, but she wasn't used to having someone take care of her. She knew he meant well, but if there was one thing the past months had taught her, it was that she had to look out for herself. "I know. With everything that was going on today, I guess I just . . . forgot. I'm sorry." Then she wondered why she was apologizing. It was her life and her choice, after all. One of the few she could make.
"I know the feeling," Kurt admitted ruefully. His stomach had rather forcefully reminded him that it was mealtime, or he probably would have skipped lunch himself. If Pellington hadn't been in town, he would have taken the rest of the day off and absconded with Jane so they could work out the details of their . . . arrangement. Which he guessed they needed to do now. "So . . . I guess we should probably talk, huh?"
Jane twirled a bite of spaghetti around her fork. "Yeah." She didn't mean for that to come out quite as unenthusiastic as she sounded. "Sorry. It's just been . . . a long day." For him too, no doubt. Despite his apparent unconcern for the potential consequences of his actions, she had a hard time believing he was as unworried as he let on. "Where should we start?"
Kurt hesitated. "You mentioned this morning that we needed to decide how long we're going to stay married and if we're going to see other people. I guess we should start with those two, but we also need to figure out what reason we're going to give for ending the marriage." Just so there would be no doubt, he added, "It needs to be something that will allow us to stay friends." He didn't want her to vanish from his life completely when this was over.
She had a feeling friends was the very last thing she would be interested in being with Kurt by the time their marriage ended, but Jane simply nodded her assent. She would cross that bridge when she came to it. "What about telling people that we've gotten married? Have you called your sister yet?"
Kurt winced. Sarah had been in the back of his mind all day, but he hadn't exactly had time to figure out how to break the news to her. He was guessing, "Hi, sis. How are you? Oh by the way, I got married last week," would not go over well. "No. I'll give her a call when we get done here." That was going to be an . . . interesting conversation. "I guess you probably didn't get a chance to break the news to Roman yet either."
Jane shook her head slowly. The way things stood between the two of them these days, she doubted he'd even care. Ever since she had come clean to him that she was the one who had wiped his memory, he'd spoken to her only when necessary. She didn't blame him since she'd done it without his consent, and she understand all too well the hell he was going through because of her actions, but his hating her was a small price to pay for him having a chance at redemption. The way things had stood, he'd have wound up dead or in prison—though the latter was still a possibility since he had killed a half-dozen cops. There was simply no protocol for what to do about charging someone with a crime when they were quite literally a brand new person occupying the same body, and the debates about what to do about that were still ongoing and heated. "I thought I'd go by his safe house sometime tomorrow and tell him."
"Would you like me to come with you?" Kurt offered hesitantly, wanting to be supportive but hoping he wasn't overstepping his bounds. What was the etiquette for informing your fake wife's brother you had married his sister without his knowledge or blessing? "We could go by his safe house on the way to work in the morning.
"Or not," he added when Jane appeared to be struggling to formulate a response, a myriad of emotions crossing her face. "I can drop you off there, if you would prefer to talk to him al—"
"No!" Jane blurted, more touched by Kurt's offer than she knew how to express. "No, I'd love for you to go with me." Maybe with him there as a buffer, Roman would speak to her in more than monosyllables. "Thank you."
Kurt felt warmth bloom in his chest at the smile she directed at him. "You're very welcome, Jane. Besides," he said ruefully, "I have a feeling you'll be returning the favor before long. Something tells me that Sarah will be catching a flight back here the first chance she gets once she hears the news."
"I'll be happy to," Jane assured him, even as she felt butterflies flutter in her stomach at the prospect. What had Sarah Weller been told about her? she wondered. "So . . ."
"So," Kurt echoed when she fell silent. "I guess it's time to figure out all the important details, huh? How long do you think we should stay married?"
"I, um . . ." Jane floundered as the question caught her off-guard. She had assumed he would give her his opinion on the matter, rather than asking for hers. Whether he realized it or not, the length of time didn't matter in her case. "However long you think is fine with me."
"I guess . . ." Kurt had been pondering that all day. "Maybe a year?" he suggested. "That would give plenty of time for the publicity to die down and be long enough for us to develop problems that would cause us to call it quits." He ignored the niggling voice in his head that reminded him that anyone who knew them would never believe two such stubborn people would give up so easily.
Not on something so important.
From six months to a year in the blink of an eye. Scratch that. If they lived together for a year, it would be eighteen months before they could file for divorce. Eighteen blissful months in which she didn't have to wake up every morning wondering if this was the day the CIA would get her back in their grasp. "That sounds reasonable," Jane agreed. "I assume you'll be wanting to see other people during that time? Once the publicity dies down, of course."
Kurt frowned. "Actually, I was thinking that as long as we're living together, we should avoid that complication. Why would you think I . . .?"
Jane shifted uncomfortably. "Why wouldn't I?" she asked quietly. "In all the time I've known you, Kurt, you've never gone more than a few weeks without . . . someone." Her lips ticked up briefly at his look of surprise. "You didn't think I knew about Nas."
"No," Kurt acknowledged, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He couldn't deny the validity of Jane's words, but he wished like hell he had exercised better judgment. Rich was right, loath as he was to admit it. His feelings for Jane had confused the hell out of him, still did, to be honest, and both times she had come into his life, he had jumped headlong into a bed with a woman to avoid dealing with them.
"Nas was a mistake," he admitted now. Honestly, as much as he cared about Allie and as excited as he was about the baby, sleeping with her had been as well. But at least she was a friend. Nas, on the other hand . . . He'd had his eyes opened wide to her true character in the aftermath of Sandstorm's attack, and now he couldn't fathom how he'd ever found her likable, much less attractive. "She wanted . . . she tried to turn you back over to the CIA after the attack. Claimed you must have deliberately fed us bad intel. I told her that was nonsense, but then I went to the hospital to check on Patterson, and she . . ."
She had called Keaton to come get Jane. If Patterson hadn't woken up when she did, hadn't told him that Borden was a mole and insisted he get back to the office . . . He drew in a shuddering breath. He'd arrived at the same time as Keaton, and when he'd mentioned that he was there to collect Jane at his girlfriend's request, well . . .
Lost it was too mild a term to describe the hell he'd rained down on the man. Or the verbal tirade he had unleashed on Nas when Keaton had painfully picked himself up and limped away. Nas had accused him of being blind to Jane's true character, but it was hers he'd ignored. She'd blackmailed Jane into this mission, had seen nothing wrong with taking lives to accomplish it, all of which made them no better than the people they were trying to stop and which flew in direct contradiction to his deeply held principles of morality and justice. Kurt still felt sick every time he thought of it. What the hell had happened to him? How had he allowed his life to go so far off the rails?
"It's okay, Kurt," Jane told him gently when he couldn't go on. "I know you would never have been a party to that."
"Do you?" Kurt asked. He appreciated her vote of confidence, but he was at least partially to blame for the torture she'd endured at Keaton's hands the first time. The CIA might have taken her from them, but he sure as hell hadn't fought for her. And it was only by the barest chance now that she wasn't in some deep, dark hole again enduring unspeakable things. A hole from which Keaton would have made sure that there was no escape from this time—and that they could never find her.
"I do," Jane assured him, stretching her hand across the table to cover his, glad to see the old Kurt reemerging, but not wanting him to keep beating himself up for things that hadn't happened or that he couldn't change. "I don't know what you did, but I'm sure it's the only reason I'm sitting here with you tonight, so . . . thank you."
As if on cue, they both looked down at their joined hands, and Jane pulled back after a moment. "Yeah, well . . ." Kurt said to cover the awkwardness of the moment, "now you know why I don't want to see anyone else while we're married. Honestly, I think it will be good for me to have to avoid that particular temptation for a while. But I'll understand if you want to . . ."
Jane laughed. "I think I've got enough complications in my life right now without a boyfriend," she assured him. "I tried that not too long ago, and it didn't go so well." She shrugged at his questioning look. "It's kind of hard when you can't explain your tattoos or tell them anything about yourself. Besides, as long as Shepherd is on the loose, I'd just be putting an innocent civilian at risk." And she had enough regrets on her conscience as it was.
She rose and began stacking the dishes. "Since you're clearly the cook in this marriage, I think it's only fair I do the clean up. Although," she added, "I wouldn't mind learning. If you're up for the challenge of teaching me sometime."
"I think I can handle that," Kurt agreed. He gathered up the leftovers and followed her to the kitchen. "But I'll help you with the clean up tonight. Want to watch a movie when we're done?"
"Oh, uh . . ." Jane bit her lip. "I should probably move my things into the guest room. But I don't think that will take long, if . . . What?" she asked as she noticed a strange look cross Kurt's face.
"Yeah, about that . . ." Sleeping arrangements had completely slipped his mind, or he would have realized . . . "I took the bed out of the guest room last weekend. I was planning to turn it into a nursery and . . ."
"I get it," Jane assured him. "It's okay." She turned to begin filling the sink with water. "I can sleep on the couch."
Kurt frowned. "Come on, Jane." He gently spun her to face him and placed his hands on her hips. "We're both adults. I think we can share my bed." He cocked an eyebrow. "Unless you're afraid you won't be able to control yourself, that is."
Jane snorted as she pointedly looked down. "From where I stand, you're the one who's having trouble keeping his hands to himself." Her eyes were alight with laughter as they met his again, but that quickly faded at the intensity in his, and she forgot to breathe as the very air around them became supercharged with the attraction between them.
Her surroundings faded from view, and she forgot that they were playacting, forgot every reason this was a bad idea, as Kurt leaned toward her, or maybe they leaned toward one another, until there were only inches separating them, and then . . .
A knock sounded on the door.
Jane jumped slightly as Kurt stepped back, the spell broken. "Were you expecting someone?" she asked as she shut off the water.
Kurt shook his head. "This may come as a shock to you, Jane, but I'm kind of a workaholic, and most of my friends are my employees, so they tend not to drop by after putting up with me all day."
"Sounds lonely," Jane commented without thinking, wishing as soon as she said it that she could take it back. No wonder he had been vulnerable to Nas's manipulations, especially after everything that had happened with her and Taylor and his dad. She patted him on the arm, hoping he would realize that he wasn't alone any longer. "In that case, I'll get the door."
"You're not fooling me," Kurt called after her. "You're just trying to get out of doing the dishes."
Jane chuckled as she opened the door. "Hello—" Her voice trailed off when she didn't see anyone. She started to step out into the corridor to see if they'd gotten impatient and turned to leave, but her foot connected with something solid. "What the—"
A large basket with an equally impressive bow on the lid had been placed in front of their door. She would have thought it was a mistake except for the card on the bow that said, Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Weller. Clearly, whoever had brought it had intended it as a wedding present, Jane realized, her brow furrowing. But who were they, and why hadn't they stayed to deliver it in person?
"Jane?" Kurt called, hurrying toward her at her startled exclamation. "Who is it?"
"It's not a who; it's a what," Jane told him as she knelt down and lifted the lid.
Her heart melted at the sight that met her eyes.