Another short overview of the Janes' life. Some others may follow, if real life allows it :), in no particular chronological order.
French version available in « Les contes de l'étang ».
I'd like to thank the readers who took time to post a review. You're so cool. Much appreciated.

« Ta-dah! »
And Patrick Jane pulled off the white cloth covering the bucket with a flourish, revealing a bottle on crushed ice, wich looked a lot like a champagne bottle.
Comfortably seated on the trailer's sofa, facing the coffee table, Teresa Lisbon - now Lisbon-Jane - watched the scene with a hint of incredulity.

« Well it's nice, but I'm pregnant, Patrick, don't you remember? I can't drink this »
« You can, my dear. It may looks furiously like champagne, but it's alcohol free. I rescued this bottle from our wedding party, a whole box remained so I took one before the catering crew packed it all up. Couldn't have done it with the champagne though, there wasn't a drop left »
« Oh, ok » his wife said, and taking one of the two flutes set in front of her, she held it up.
« So, why are you waiting for? »

Patrick, smiling, opened the bottle with a resouding pop and filled the glasses with the sparkling drink.

« And may I ask you why this faux champagne? » the small brunette added.
« Because I want to celebrate » answered the blond man while sitting next to her.
« Celebrate what? »
Pretending to think, he answered:
« Uhm, let me think… Your birthday? »
« It's not my birthday and you know it. »
« Right. So, your unbirthday? »
Teresa rolled her eyes.
« Don't Lewis Carroll me. I don't celebrate unbirthdays, it's stupid »

Jane shrugged.
« Your loss. And what if I just want to celebrate? »
« Patrick, you can't just celebrate. You have to celebrate something »
« Ok, so let's celebrate something ».
He raised his full glass. « To something! » he claimed with a big grin.

A burst of laughter escaped her, when she saw his cheerful expression.
« To something » she answered, as she raised a toast.

She gulped down the drink, and made a face.
« Not great. I remember I had to drink this thing when we cheered and were raising toasts at the wedding party. I was dying for a fresh beer after our long dance session. »
« When they played the disco series? »
« Yeah, all the seventies hits! Remember Rigsby's choregraphy on Night fever? »
« Oh yes, that was great, even Cho tried to do it! » he exclaimed.

Suddenly, Jane's eyes were filled with such tenderness, and something else so intense, Lisbon felt suddenly warm all over.
« To something, Teresa » he added with a soft tone.

She melt. Smiling, she shaked her head.
« You're impossible »
« Ah, I'm sorry to tell you, but you're very wrong my dear. I'm am totally possible. Look, I'm here, right beside you, and I'm possible as possible can be. See? » he asked, taking her hand in his, and gently stroking it.

She blinked. A few seconds passed in an awkward silence, then put her glass down with resolution.

« Come on », she said standing up still holding his hand, « Let's celebrate ».
She started walking, pulling him towards the small bedroom at the back of the airstream.
« Like on our wedding night? » he asked mischievoulsy while getting up to follow her.
She turned around and stuck her tongue out at him.
« For how long are you going to tease me with this? Shut up, and come on » she ordered, reaching the room's door.
« My pleasure! » he said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Jane and Lisbon's wedding, five days ago

The bride put her now empty glass of water onto the table with a sigh. She realized she was dead on her feet. It was time to call it a night. Well, moreover, call it a wedding night. Their wedding night.

From there, she could spot the groom, across the improvised dance floor set near their cabin.

Jane was seated on one of the few chairs, now scattered all along. A bit disheveled, tie loosened, vest unbuttoned, he looked relaxed and happy.
Kimbal Cho was sitting on his right side, alternatively sipping what looked like Scotch or Bourbon, and - worth noting - smiling openly.
He looked pretty tipsy, as well as Rigsby did.
Standing next to Cho, the tall man was clumsily wiggling to the rhythm of the music. He was probably sharing some boozy nonsense with them, and apparently, it did work: they were all hilarious.

Teresa decided to get around the dancing crowd to join her husband and tell him she wanted to leave. It was near two in the morning but the party was still in full swing, and she was calculating the best path to navigate through the guests when, as by magic, Patrick Jane appeared next to her, his suit jacket on his arm.

« Were you looking for me? »
« How do you know that? »
« Were you? »
« In fact yes, I was » she answered in his ear, as he leaned towards her, « My feet are killing me, and I'm exhausted. Do you mind if we sneak out and go back to the trailer? »
« Of course I don't mind, dear, let's get some rest. As much as I enjoy our wedding party, it's been a long day »
« Well, you can say that. It's not very usual to arrest a blood-drinking serial killer then marry your consultant right after… »
« Technically, Keller did not drink the blood of his victims, he watered his father's body with it… »
« Same difference »
« Yes, it's disgusting in any way you look at it, I agree. Let's go ».

A new song started blasting through the sound system, and while Beyonce talked about looking so crazy in love, they quietly left and walked across the thick grass to reach Jane's trailer.

Teresa felt a bit unstable with her heels on, so Patrick put his jacket on, and passed his arm under hers to help, like a perfect gentleman. He unlocked the vehicle's door and turned around to face her with a glint in his eyes.

« And now… »
« What are… Oh no no no, you're not doing it, no way! »
« I'm totally doing it »
« No, no you're not! » she protested, but not so vigorously.

Before she knew it, Jane took her in his arms and she gave a little strangled scream, half protest half laugh. He climbed the three little steps in a heart beat and crossed the threshold of the old vehicle as she locked her arms around his neck.

« Long live the bride. The most beautiful bride of all brides. I love you… »
« You're so cheesy, Patrick Jane… » she said shaking her head, « Love you too. ».
And she kissed him.

When their lips eventually part, their respective smile had grown so blissful and beatific that they burst out laughing.
He put her down slowly, catching his breath.
« Sorry, couldn't resist. It's tradition after all »
« It was super kitsch, but it was nice. At least you didn't hit my head against the doorpost, or slipped a disc while lifting me »
« Wasn't going to happen. I trained with Cho for a week » he joked.

She giggled and took her heels off.
« Oh my god, I feel like my feet and ankles have blown up like balloons, and my legs hurt like if I had run a marathon… » she whined, throwing the offending shoes away from her.

« Let me help you with that. But first, to bed! » Jane said with a serious tone.

The groom took his jacket and shoes off, then ceremoniously opened the small bedroom door. The bride entered the bedroom with a grin.

« Don't put the light on, I don't want anyone to know we're inside » she added while Patrick folded the bedspread and the top sheet. Then, slowly, he moved to stand right behind the brunette, and whispered in her ear.

« As you wish, I don't mind. Just let me get you out of this » he said softly.

Her cardigan landed onto the bed. She held her breath, and couldn't help a shiver as his fingers found the zipper of her wedding dress and opened it slowly down to her lower back.
In the darkness of the tiny room, she heard the hiss of falling fabric filled the space.

« Why don't you lie down, and rest your legs? I have an extraordinary massage oil for you, and you'll see, it works wonders… »
« A massage? Oh, this is an excellent idea » she said, as she lay down.

While Patrick rummaged in the cupboard he used as medicine cabinet, Teresa could still hear the music coming from outside. The DJ was playing softer songs now, maybe the sign the party was coming to an end. She felt as if her body was weighing a tonne.

« Ah, here it is », said the newlywed consultant, « Now, let me relieve you and take your pain away. »

He sat down onto the end of the bed, then gently spread the oil on her calves and ankles. He started the healing massage, processing slowly towards her feet.
Teresa moaned.
« It feels good, Jane, oh, please don't stop »
« Don't you see I'm on a mission here, my dear? I won't stop until you feel better. And beware, my ticklish girl, I'm gonna work on you feet now. »
« I'm not ticklish. Mmmh, oh yes, this feels so good… We're gonna have to do this more often »
« Your wish is my command » he replied with a laugh, keeping on his ministrations, now on the ball of her left foot.

But as much as he loved to take care of Teresa's feet, Patrick had now a new plan in mind, involving massaging and stroking other parts of her body as well.
Showing her how much he loved her. How much he was happy with the wonderful news she had told him tonight. How much her creamy soft skin and its freckles, here under his fingers, were driving him crazy.

« Do you feel better now?… » he asked with a deep voice, « Or do you want me to go on?… Teresa?… »

Silence followed, interrupted by a noise. A noise he quickly identified: the characteristic sound of snoring. His dear wife was sound asleep. Out like a light.

So much for his plan.

With a sigh, he gently rose, undressed, and lay down next to Teresa, covering them with the sheet. He kissed her naked shoulder.
« 'night, my Sleeping Beauty, sweet dreams »

Outside, near the pond, the DJ was playing a slow song. « I go to sleep » by the Pretenders.
A classic.