Fanfic-Wedding Machinations
Wedding machinations
Author:little_firestar
Artist:kathiann
Link to art: here(activated soon)
Word Count 4260
Rating T
Summary Sarah had always wanted her wedding to be full of happiness. But Jane and Lisbon’s grumpy behavior wasn’t exactly helping. All because they were too stubborn to admit they loved each other. But, with Rigsby and Cho’s help, she already knew how to make things right
Disclaimers The Mentalist, created by Bruno Heller, is owned by CBS. By writing this piece of fiction, I claim no right upon pre-existing proprieties.
Notes set post season four, could be considered AU for season five facts. No spoilers.
Around the table, the atmosphere was so heavy it could be cut with a knife. Sara didn't like it, that wasn't how she had pictured her wedding. Call her naive, but she had always thought it was going to be the happiest day of her life, for her and her friends alike. But many of her friends weren't happy and carefree. What was worst, though, was the fact that Wayne, her soon to be husband, wasn't happy too. Not at all.
Things had been bad enough for him lately, between the return in his life (their lives, actually) of his father. She had been somehow relieved, thinking that his son and grandchildren were finally having an effect on the former con, but they soon had discovered, in the hard way, how wrong they had been. Not only Rigsby Senior had used them, but he had dared to put Ben's life in danger to get out of troubles with people he had gotten involved with. Ben was safely back home now, but there's no denying his parents got the scare of a lifetime, and his daddy few broken ribs as well. There was no need to tell grandpa he wasn't welcome any longer.
And then....Red John. Wayne had been barely back few days when the serial killer hit again, starting a game with Jane and team he should have never had started to begin with. Taking Lisbon captive was the last straw, but at least, in doing so, he had done a fatal mistake. He had underestimated her. And doing so had brought his end, once and for all.
That, of course, had caused a series of problems within the team.
ane and Lisbon passed their time either arguing or giving each other the cold shoulders. He was divided between feeling relieved she was safe and all right, guilty because Red John had taken her because he had allowed her to get too close, and angry, almost crazy, because she, instead of himself, got to kill the monster. Lisbon was happy that he was still there, but at the same time a part of her couldn't help but almost hating Jane for being mad because she had killed a man in self-defense. It was like since it was "his" serial killer it didn't matter any longer. It was like he didn't remember that she had been tortured for days, left dying of thirst and starving. He didn't think about the cuts and the psychological abuse: all he saw was Red John, Red John. And because of that, Lisbon had decided that she had been right when she had assumed she was just a mark and he had joined them just on a long con to get his revenge. A behavior that, in response, only made Jane angrier and angrier, making him more idiotic and prone to stunts on the job, creating more problems for Lisbon, making her angrier, which made him do stupider things and so on. It was like an endless circle, with their team caught in the middle.
And, on top of it, now they were jealous too, because the both of them were dating. And definitely not each other, despite Jane's secret dreams. But it wasn't like he could erase just like that his bad behavior and make disappear her boyfriend (aka millionaire extraordinaire Walter Mashburn), like he couldn't erase his own guilt and his soon to be wife, Kristina Frey. Not that he loved that creepy woman. Sarah wasn't stupid, and knew the whole story. She was aware Jane just wanted to repay the woman for what she had to endure with and because of Red John, all because she had dared to date Patrick Jane once (and mock a serial killer with a vengeful agenda. But he somehow kept forgetting that).
Still, Sarah knew it wasn’t right, as she looked at them avoiding each other's eyes at the dinner rehearsal. They were faking happiness, to punish themselves or the other, she wasn’t sure. She just knew they couldn't keep this up, it wasn't fair to each other, their significant other and the team. Lord, it wasn't even fair to victims and their families, since this cold war was having terrible effects on their partnership too, turning them from the most successful team of the CBI into a living joke - Wayne’s frustrated words, not hers.
And if Wayne wasn't happy because of this, Ben wasn't happy, and if her men weren't happy, the same could be said about her too. She needed to do something to make everyone, especially her little family, surrogate and not, happy. And also because, it was the right thing to do. It was the least she could do, since it was just thanks to Lisbon and Jane if she and Wayne had overcame all the obstacles in their relationship and were now ready to tie the knot in few hours: after the facts that had brought Wayne to fake his own death, they had taken a temporary leave on their relationship, and it was just thanks to their words that she had decided to forgive and forget, giving a second chance to their little family of three, soon four.
And if her plan was to work, in less than a year the dynamic duo was to follow them.
It had to work. It just had to. She couldn't handle another dinner just like that. And they were Wayne's family. They were used to have dinner together every now and then…
"This will never work" Wayne whispered, sweating out of nervousness and shaking his head. "Jane will know we are up to something as soon as he'll be asked to...."
"That's why Cho will be the one asking him.” She said, interrupting him, rather exasperated. “And please. He’ll never see through you. I mean, it's your wedding, of course you are nervous! He'll never be able to say the difference!"
"That's the Patrick Jane we are talking about. He’ll know. And he'll make me pay. With the interests. We are so screwed..."
Sarah didn't even dignify him with an answer, she simply rolled her eyes and left her table, putting on her best smile. Not that it was so hard, she just had to remember that time Lisbon called her hard-assed...
"Teresa? Hi. Can I talk with you for a minute?" She asked, and grabbed Teresa for an hand, bringing her out of earshot before the cop could actually answer. "So. I have a problem. And I need your help to solve it."
"Well, if it’s about a former client harassing you, I think you could ask a restraint order and see...."
"Uhm, no, it's nothing like that. It's a bit more personal. Let's call it a favor, more or less."
"Ok?" she tentatively answered, a tiny scared. Sarah did her best to not smile, trying to hide how delighted she was that she could actually scare someone as tough as Teresa Lisbon.
"Apparently, my best girlfriend isn't a friend at all, and she stood me up. And it's kind of sad to say, but it seems you, my soon-to-be husband’s boss, are the woman I'm the closest to. So, what would you say about being my matron of honor?" A nightmare of pink taffeta took life right before the cop’s eyes, and Teresa Lisbon shivered out of fear. She could handle rapists, murderers, thieves, kidnappers, any kind of criminal.
But not taffeta. Anything but taffeta.
"Don't worry. You'll just have to wear a cocktail black dress and walk at Cho's arm. I’m pretty sure that a nice little thing like you has to have a little black number in her wardrobe… "
Sarah held her hands, and in that moment, when eyes met the hope and panic in the smile of the bride, Lisbon knew she was screwed.
She was going to be a bridesmaid once again.
---
Teresa Lisbon was furious. Actually, she wasn't, but that was the closest she could get to actually describe how she was feeling. And it was all because of the stupid males of the stupid planet. Well, of the CBI at least.
She had just spent the last fifteen minutes calming Sarah down, trying to explain her why she was supposed to get married on her wedding day and that, despite the facts, it wasn't all a conspiracy orchestrated by Rigsby to back up and escape into the sunset with Van Pelt, nor was God sending her signs to make her understand that she and Rigsby weren’t meant to be.
All because of those stupid men!
First, Cho had showed up in church with crunches, all because he had injured his leg after a drink too much at Wayne's bachelor party. He had told them he had already found another best man to take his place, but still, Sarah didn't like the feeling that everything was going to go to hell. Her matron had stood her up, the best man was injured, and then what? She really didn't feel like adding more drama to her life, she kept saying to Lisbon. And for these words alone Lisbon didn’t utter a word, even if she knew that the best man of reserve had Patrick Jane.
Kristina Frey hadn't shared her vision, thought. The “psych” had tried to explain the lawyer those were all signs she and agent Rigsby weren't meant to be, that he was Van Pelt's star crossed lovers, and that her mother had told her she wasn’t happy with the direction her life was taking. Which had caused an impromptu change of behavior in the bride, who had become furious with the (fake) psychic. Because, apparently, Sarah's mother wasn't dead. She was simply too occupied with a cruise on the Mediterranean with husband number five to attend her daughter's wedding to a cop in some, small chapel in downtown Sacramento. A witch on her best days, but definitely not dead.
So now Sarah was stressed and enraged and it was up to Lisbon to take charge of the situation. Like always. And whose fault was that? Jane's, obviously. He had dragged the guys in that alley to get a drink resulting in Cho being hurt, he had brought along Kristina for the wedding resulting in Sarah throwing things and he was an ass because the maid of honor and the best-man, aka the two of them, couldn’t stand each other.
She really wanted to kill him. Like, taking her gun and fire at his knees and let him bleed out.
"Well, hello dear. You really are beautiful this fine morning. Anger suits you." He dared to mock her as she took his arm and they started to walk toward the aisle. She felt weird and funny, like, despite the anger, something else was in her heart. She blushed, turning her head in the opposite direction, eyes focused on her feet. She definitely didn't feel like sharing with him the information she had just daydreamt of being the bride, but mostly, she couldn't let him know in her dream he was the groom. It just wasn't fair, especially since she had already seen the ring hidden in Walt’s car.
And besides, Jane, who already had a girlfriend, didn't like her that way.
"Shout up, you idiot, your beloved girlfriend just made Sarah cry!" she hissed at low voice, and all the hairs on Jane's body stood to attention. Kristina had to have been quite insensible if she had made Sarah crying. Because, well, Sarah was bad ass. "She told her the marriage was doomed and that her mother didn’t like her husband and the fact she has had a son before getting married! Oh, by the way, did I mention that Sarah's mother is very much alive?"
Jane barely suppressed an "ah", of surprise or disappointed, Lisbon wasn’t sure; mostly, though, he didn't know what he was supposed to say. A chat with Kristina had to be in his future, that much he knew, like he knew he would have to be extra careful with his words, weighting them and the effects that they could have on his girlfriend, but mostly, he knew that he would have to put on his best act.
Because, once reached the aisle, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Lisbon. All he saw was her, and in his mind he kept remembering years and years of dreams: dreams where Teresa was dressed in white and at his side at the aisle, ready to become his wife.
---
"They are happy, aren't they?" Walt asked as they looked at Sarah and her father dancing together, the man's teary eyes focused on his daughter and her baby bump. "I wonder if we'll ever be able to feel the same." She took his hand in her own, and smiled sadly at her future husband, her eyes focused on their joined hands. For a second, she wondered if it was his way of preparing her for an imminent proposal, but then, she dismissed the thought. It was something he could have very well thought about, proposing at someone’s else wedding, but she hoped he knew it wasn’t her style at all.
"Walt...." She started, but she didn't get to end the sentence, because, holding her hand so forcefully it hurt and was living bruises, he took control of the conversation, never meeting her eyes, staring angrily and with clenched teeth in front of him, in the void.
"I ask myself this, because I don’t think you truly love me. I think that it’s him you want but you are too upset for how he dealt with everything, and you are too proud and stubborn to just admit you need him." He paused, and she was to interfere, but he was quicker and started to talk yet again, a conversation that could be defined only as one-sided.. "Why would you have looked for me only after he started dating Kristina and everybody understood he was serious, uh? I tried to reach for you when I returned in America, but you kept refusing giving me any chance. Then, as soon as he says he is getting married, you are the one looking for me. I’m not stupid, Teresa. Maybe you don’t know it, but I do."
He abruptly stood up, and walked away, and stopped only when he felt one of her tiny hands on his shoulder. He turned to face her, and he knew that he was going to forgive her, no matter what. For her beautiful emerald eyes were teary. He was going to forgive, but he couldn’t forget she didn’t belong to him fully, that it wasn’t him she really loved, not matter how much he loved her, how much she wanted, needed to love him, or how sorry she was.
"It has been nice, playing house together, but it’s time to admit it had all been a huge mistake. That's not what we are, nor who or what we want. Goodbye Teresa, and be happy." He kissed her tenderly on the corner of her lips, and then he left.
The room, and her life.
---
At another table, Kristina was crossing her arms, huffing annoyed because of her boyfriend's reprimand.
"I don't understand why you are so mad. I just told her what many of you are thinking right now, but are too scared to admit out loud. I though you weren’t as small minded as they are, Patrick."
"One, I thought you knew what tact was, two, my friends aren’t small minded, and not everyone thinks this marriage is a mistake. I don’t think so, for example. And last but not least, you know I don't like you playing psych with my friends."
"I don't play psych. I am a psych, I told you!" She retorted through clenching teeth, like she was a rabid animal.
"Kristina, we already talked about it, you are not a psych. I am not a psych. we are not psychs. We simply have a different kind of... sensibility. We are a tiny emphatic, and very observant, but in no way we are able to read minds or talking with dead people."
“Sometimes, I even wonder why you bother dating me at all if you can't accept what we are." She sadly told him, shaking her head in resignation, her voice so low it was barely a whisper, because she could already feel what the outcome of this conversation was going to be. Without needing to be a psych.
"We are nothing, Kristina, you know it." He added, as sadly as her. probably, resigned too. But relieved too, in some kind of twisted way. He had asked Kristina to be with him- and marry him- to repay her of the years of pain inflicted upon her by Red John’s twisted games with her mind. But if she would have been the one calling things off, he would have finally been able to breathe again. He could already consider them even.
"I guess you are right. We are nothing." She said, confirming what he had just assumed. Saying so, she removed her engagement ring, letting it on the table. "I hope you'll be happy together. You both deserve it." When she went away, he didn't even try to follow her. Because she had been right. He had never wanted her. Only thing was, he wasn’t sure if he could still win the heart of the woman he belonged to, body and soul. The one he truly wanted.
---
Right before all the people he knew, Rigsby had never felt less at easy, not even when they had asked him to play the role of Lisbon’s husband during an undercover job. He couldn't believe that Sarah had come up with such a scheme, and that she was actually asking him to do something like that. It was so out of character, for the both of them.
"Wayne, honey, I'm not going to bite you. Nor my leg will." She told him smiling and chuckling, her leg already on a chair. Seriously, the man was so naive and innocent with the opposite sex, that it was a miracle he had had any girlfriend. It was also sweet, though, a nice contrast with his behavior on the job. And, at the end, it was what made her fall in love with him. "C'mon Wayne, it's not like you have to take it off with your teeth or get me completely naked!"
He looked at her, like to say that he was grateful for those facts alone, and, finally, he skimmed over the soft skin of her leg, and removed, slowly, and as sensually as possible, the white and wine red lace and silk garter. He smirked at her as well, though. He had to admit that such a simple action had made him desire to be alone with her once again. They had been surrounded by their whole families for too long, in the weeks before the wedding.
"I am not sure I can pull this up." He told her. "You should have asked Cho. Cho was a sniper!"
She gave a look at him. He didn't know if she meant that he was the one she had married, so asking Cho to do such a thing was plain stupid, or that he had to put his act together and do what he was supposed to do already. So, he took a big breath and threw the garment in the air, keeping his breath. He started to breathe again only when… when the piece of lingerie landed directly in Jane's glass of champagne. Oh well, he thought, better than nothing. Even if it had been the consultant’s head he had aimed at.
"What the..." Jane asked with semi-closed eyes, taking the alien item away from his glass and holding it at eye level, studying the drenched object like it was something he had never seen something like that before and he couldn’t understand where it came from.
It was Sarah's voice that killed the silence and brought him back to reality, with an intonation that scared him, bringing him back to the times he used to be a showman and have an audience. "Ladies, Mr. Patrick Jane, forty-three years old, consultant for the California Bureau of Investigation, owner of a vintage cars collection and just dumped by his girlfriend, took the garter! Which one of you lucky ladies will take the bouquet, and mend his poor heart, and have the chance of becoming Mrs. Jane in the next twelve months?"
Jane looked around, and then at the garter in his hands, scared like a deer caught by the light deep at night. There was a small crowd of crazy chickens- he didn’t know how to describe them differently, because there was no way they could be humans- who behaved like he was the last man standing on the planet or a piece of meat (well, now he knew how Van Pelt and Lisbon felt when they wore an evening gown or went undercover with revealing clothes... he even started to hate himself. He, more than once, had looked at the woman in such a way).
Mostly, though, right now, his thoughts were concentrated on how much he hated both Sarah and stupid old traditions. Because Rigsby was just too scared of him to pull such a stunt. It had to be something she had thought about. Between the two of them, she was the one as hard-assed enough to pull something like that off.
His train of thoughts was yet again interrupted, this time, though, by many, many voices all around him, and all the commotion let him understand that the deed had been done. It was time to prepare to face his destiny.
"Oh, isn’t it romantic? The best-man and the maid of honor!"
"I've heard she is his boss!"
" Yes! Jane, go get her!"
"Do you think they are having an affair? Jameson in fraud says they do!"
"Ehy, man, you’re supposed to put it on the boss!"
"Grow a pair!" the last comments actually upset him, for they were laced with mockery and some kind of twisted innuendo. And besides, if the words were rights, it mean that...
Lisbon had gotten the bouquet.
He turned, and saw her blushing and embarrassed, still sat at her table, hugging the flowers like they could protect her, or maybe the other way around. With a lazy smile, he reached her, and while she still refused eye contact, he kneeled at her feet.
His hands skimmed the whole length of her left leg, and after a series of caresses, he finally put on her the garter, skimming with soft touches over her skin as he put it on its rightful place, and was delighted in feeling her shiver. She blushed furthermore as she gasped at the intensity of the contact, and he swore he could smell her perfume.
She felt just like he had always imagined, soft and feminine despite the strength in her muscles of athlete. It took all his strength to calm his thoughts, errand in the direction of naked bodies and a nuptial bed.
He didn't said a word, he just kept smiling, and when he stood, he offered her his hand to dance. Lisbon immediately accepted it, with tears in her eyes. They were merely glassy, though. She couldn’t cry for him, not yet, at least.
He took her on the dance floor, and danced like they had that night so many years before, at that high school reunion. Close, so close, her nose nuzzling his neck, his in her hair, breathing in her very essence, vanilla, cinnamon and Lisbon, the most relaxing fragrance of them all, the only balm for his soul.
"So....you are single.” She casually said, biting her lips afterwards, not knowing how he could react. For all she knew, maybe he was heartbroken.
"Kristina told me something, and I realized she was right. We were nothing. And Angela, she would have wanted me to move on with someone worth it. Someone better than me. Someone that could rein me in, not that wanted me back in that world." He paused. "If I were Walter, I would never allow another man to touch your skin. Not even for an instant."
"He told me he couldn't deal with being second best. I guess he was right. We would have resented each other, eventually."
"So you are single now" He told her, his lips getting closer to hers. She just nodded, still avoiding eye contact. "Good. So we'll be able to mend each other's broken heart. I think it could be a long process. Could take more than a year... but it’s ok. We still have to work on your issues with insecurity, ling term relationships and commitment before you'll be exactly what I need.. even if the fact that you are still here, despite having seen me at my worst, is kind of a plus."
She finally lifted her gaze, and their eyes met. She saw his mischievous grin, and the breath died in her throat. They finally kissed, slowly, tentatively, but still putting all of them in that simple act, and from the dance-floor, Sarah hugged her husband, their children between them.
She hoped to be a bridesmaid at Patrick and Teresa's wedding, and she didn't know why, but she was almost positive that it was going to happen long before the year.
At that time, she was probably going to be at the christening of baby Jane.