Birthday gift for kathiann

[little_firestar]

I wanted to whish an happy birthday to kathiann, who's always done an amazing work with my fics whenver we've been paired up together, and who's helped me out a lot while I was writing one of my last fics, The guy next door.
This fic is my gift for her!

It had been over  six months since he had declared his love while she was ready to start a new life with another man. Over twelve years since they had met for the first time- and she had slowly started falling for him. Since she had renounced many opportunities in the vain hope that he would eventually return her feelings. That he would feel the same.
Now, she knew he did feel the same, and that her feelings weren’t one-sided; he loved her, he kept saying and showing it every day, and yet, there was still something…. Bugging her. it wasn’t exactly a problem- and it didn’t even really came between them.
Ok, all right, she was lying. It DID come between them, and it was the big pink elephant in the room she didn’t feel like addressing and that Jane didn’t seem to acknowledge. Or maybe he did, and he just kept it shout just like she did because he didn’t want to break the spell that had fell upon them.
Well, flash-fact: the spell was wearing off because of the big, pink elephant in the room.
His wedding ring.
The wedding ring he was still wearing. Despite the fact his wife had been dead for over eleven years. Despite the fact that the two of them had been in a relationship for over six months.
She wondered what it meant. Didn’t he trust her? Himself? Had it been all a lie because he didn’t want to lose his favorite, and yet discharged, toy as soon  as another man took it for himself?  Was she always going to be second best to his family in his heart? Did he feel like he was cheating and betraying Angela and charlotte by being with her?
So many questions, and yet no answer.
And she was getting … jumpy? She couldn’t find the right word to describe how she actually felt, a declaration (well, many of them, actually) wasn’t enough any longer;  she wanted for Jane to stop wearing the wedding band of a woman who’s been dead for the majority of their marriage, and propose to her already. After all, she wasn’t getting any younger, and if (a big, huge if) they wanted to create a family of their own, they would have to hurry up, and she was sort of old-fashioned in that regard: she could sleep with the man without being married to him, but having children was another matter entirely- aka, thanks, but no thanks.
But it wasn’t like she could go to him and say, Jane, what about stopping wearing your wedding ring and propose to me? She had to be more… subtle than that.
So, she started looking at rings whenever they walked by the window of a jewelry shop, hoping that, being the Mentalist that he was, he would get the hint and, despite keeping his trap shout whenever she did so, on her fortieth birthday, he could man up enough to ask for her hand in marriage.
The day came;  Thomas, James, Stan and even Annie (and Annie’s mother too, despite the fact that they weren’t such good friends any longer) made sure she received their gifts on that morning, and during the day she received congratulations from her boss and few other colleagues, a book from Cho (an early edition of a novel he knew she loved) and a video-call via Skype from Ben and Maddie and the Rigsbys; she wasn’t surprised Jane hadn’t given her anything yet, as she knew he was trying to arrange a romantic date for the two of them, after weeks spent either too tired to even contemplating the idea of getting up from the couch once reached home, or away working some case, sometimes even separated.
She hoped it was the ring. She felt it was the ring. Otherwise, why arranging a romantic date, when he knew all too well that modesty was the key to her heart (and getting her undressed)?
She was as red as a tomato and jumpy the whole dinner, waiting for either champagne or the dessert- wherever he decided to place the engagement ring. She kept tip-tapping with her fingers on the table, stealing glances at Jane, looking astonishing well-dressed for once, with brand new clothes (another sign that he wanted to propose- why wearing brand new clothes, otherwise? He had never done so, after all); her mid-thigh soft and fluttery dress was also going to be ruined at the end of the evening, because she had  tormented the hem since long before they had entered the expensive (another point for her) restaurant.
And yet, when they entered their places well after midnight, his wedding ring was still around his finger, and there hadn’t been even an hint of proposal.
This time, she couldn’t hide her disappointment as she walked back to their room, stiff and desiring with every cell of her whole being to cry, despite knowing all too well that showing weakness or speaking her mind with a mentalist- despite the fact that he was her boyfriend- was the last thing she wanted- and could afford- to do.
But Jane was Jane; he knew her (sort of), he understood her, so when the question came, she wasn’t exactly surprised.
“Reese? Are you… all right?” it had been kind of tentative, and when their eyes met, she knew he already had an answer- that he had probably known all along; taking a big breath (and sighing while tormenting the hem of her dress) she went back downstairs, and faced, standing, Jane, who was busy ruffling his hair nervously, in his eyes the same expression she had seen on her flight to the Capital, when he had opened his heart up to her. “I know you are disappointed because you were expecting a proposal, but….”
“No, it’s ok, really.” She lied, biting her lips, her eyes fixed on the ground, on her high heeled shoes. “I mean, it’s been barely six months, and I used to be engaged to another man and…”
“It’s not that, Reese!” He cut her short, hands on his hips and looking at her, daring Lisbon to do the same with his stance.   “I knew that, had I remarried, it would have been with you, a long time ago. If I didn’t propose tonight it’s not because I’m not ready.” He paused, sighing, hoping that she wouldn’t get too mad at his next words. “It’s… it’s the other way around, Teresa.”
Somehow, she knew that he didn’t mean that he was too ready; he meant that she wasn’t- or at least, that he felt like she wasn’t ready to commit to him fully.
Blindly, she reached behind her and blindly grabbed a vase of flowers (white- because he knew she didn’t appreciated  too much red roses) and threw it at him, who barely managed to save both himself and the precious item.
“How dare you! Me? Scared of commitment? I remember you that I was ready to get married with Marcus when you manned up at the last second and told me you’ve been in love with me for years!”
“You said you are scared of commitment, not me.” He said, sadly, as he put the vase down and took the few steps that separated the two of them; as Lisbon’s breath died in her throat and she felt electricity running through her whole being, he cupped her cheeks, and looked at her with such an adoration she had seen only when they had admitted their true feelings for each other. Instinctively, she leaned in his touch, and when her soft, pale skin made contact with the cold gold of his wedding band, a silent, solitary tear escaped her eyes, and he kissed it away with his lips as he nuzzled her nose, tenderly and affectionate as only a lover- as someone in love – could do.
“I know that it bothers you, that I keep my wedding ring on. You ask yourself all kind of questions. Does he love me? Am I second best? Did he just did what he did only because he felt Marcus was stealing me away? Is he going to disappear once again? That’s why I can’t propose to you.” Letting it go of her, he reached inside his jacket pocket, where he retrieved a small, black velvet bag that he emptied in his left palm, revealing an engagement ring, yellow gold with few diamond-like stones (knowing Jane, they probably were real diamonds) at the sides of an oval emerald.
Then, then… he did wanted to get married. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was the problem.
He out the ring in her palm, and closed her fingers around it, his hands around her own ones, then he nuzzled her neck and spoke again, his voice low, soft and tender.
“I know that my wedding band bothers you.” He repeated. “But a long time ago, I promised myself that I would have allowed only you to take it off. And only when you would have out another one in its place.”
“Jane, I…” She started, but he shook his head, stopping her before she could keep talking. It was his time to speak, she needed to hear him out before saying anything she could not be ready to say. “I’m giving you this ring, Teresa. It’s yours to keep, so that when you’ll know for sure that I’m here to stay and that it’s you I want, you’ll put it on, and I’ll know we’ll both be ready… and then, Teresa, I swear I’ll give you the most sophomoric proposal you’ve ever heard of, I’ll knee in the middle of the office or whatever you want… but not now. Not yet.”
He didn’t say anything more, nor she spoke; Teresa simply nodded, and kissed him, her tears wetting both their faces. And in that moment, he knew.
She was getting there.
And soon, he would have asked her.
For real.