I do not own Blindspot or its characters.

Kurt's collar felt about two sizes too small as the organist struck the opening notes of The Wedding March, and all the guests rose to their feet and turned toward the door as his bride appeared in the entryway, a vision in white satin and lace. His breath caught in his throat as their eyes met, and she took her first hesitant step toward him.

Jane could scarcely breathe as she caught sight of Kurt at the altar waiting for her, flanked by Reade and a gleeful Rich Dotcom, Patterson and Zapata serving as her own maid of honor and bridesmaid, respectively. She didn't take her eyes off him as she glided down the aisle to his side, the two of them sharing a wordless conversation as he lifted her veil and held out his hand to her, and she wrapped her fingers around his.

"Dearly beloved," the minister intoned as they turned toward him, "we are gathered here together in the sign of God—and in the face of this company—to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony . . .

xxx

Five days earlier

The tension in the conference room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. "No way in hell," Kurt spat, his eyes shooting daggers at the man across the table from him. "We're not doing that. Have you completely lost your mind?"

Rich did his best not to take Weller's offense—or his criticism—personally. He had actually put a lot of thought into this plan. And expense. "Not yet, but that's no thanks to you, Stubbles. You had the prison place me in solitary and refuse to allow me to even pass notes with my beloved Boston." Not that that had stopped him. "How could you? I thought we were friends.

"Okay, okay," he said hastily as Kurt started to rise. "Maybe friends was too strong a word. But I promise you this will work. You agree to move me into a cell with Boston, and I'll deliver one of the FBI's most wanted to you. I've already got all the details taken care of, so all you've have to do is show up and say a few words." Though he suspected it was the content of those words, not the plan itself, that was the real sticking point with Weller.

"Like you delivered Sho Akhtar to us?" Zapata demanded skeptically.

"Fair enough." Rich did his best to look chagrined, rather than amused, at how easily he had pulled one over on them on that occasion. "But this time is different. You guys know what Steven Hines looks like, and I'm telling you, that guy wants me dead in the worst way. I've already put out the word that I'm going to be attending my dear friend Kurt's wedding in a few days; heck, I've even got it all planned—well, except, for picking out the wedding dress. I thought the bride should be the one to do that, but it's paid for. Anyway, my point is, you go through with this fake wedding and by the time the reception's over, you'll have one of the most wanted men in the world in custody. And I'll be reunited with my sweet Boston. Win win."

"But why does Jane have to be the bride?" Nas demanded. "I could—"

Rich laughed. "Are you kidding me? Nobody in their right mind would believe the wedding was real if you were the one walking down the aisle. The two of you have absolutely no chemistry. I'm still not clear on what your role is on this team, but honestly, you look at Stubbles here like he's a piece of meat you're sizing up at the butcher's. Whereas he and Jane, on the other hand . . ." He waved a hand toward the two people who were studiously doing their best to pretend the other didn't exist as they listened to him. "I've spared no expense for this, and if I'm going to risk life and limb to bring down such a dangerous man at a fake wedding, it can at least be a romantic fake wedding. I think I've earned that."

"Or," Kurt countered, trying to ignore Rich's unsettling observations about himself and Nas, thankful that her actions in the wake of their failed attempt to take down Sandstorm had led him to end their ill-advised brief fling even as he wondered why she was so eager to volunteer to be his bride given the lingering discomfort between them, "we could call the Marshals back in here to haul your ass back to prison where you belong."

"You could do that," Rich agreed almost too easily, and Kurt's eyes narrowed, knowing there was a caveat coming. "But if you do, Hines will undoubtedly kill more people, and you'll be left to explain to their grieving families why you didn't seize the opportunity to take him down when you had the chance. I don't think the fact that it was a little uncomfortable for you will sit well with them, do you? I'm betting they'll sue the federal government for all it's worth, and your jobs and reputations will be toast. But feel free to send me back to prison if that's what you think is best."

Kurt ground his teeth as he realized that Rich once again had him over a barrel. "Fine. But—"

"What do you mean, fine?" Jane burst out. She couldn't believe he had just agreed to that without even asking her. Sure, she would do it in a heartbeat to save lives, but it would have been nice to have been consulted first. To not have her participation constantly taken for granted. This wasn't tattoo- or Sandstorm-related, after all.

"Don't worry, Janie," Rich said sympathetically. "Your feelings are completely understandable. It's perfectly natural for a bride to get jitters before the big day. But don't worry, I've left a blank check with one of the most exclusive bridal boutiques in the city to ensure that you'll be the most beautiful bride ever to walk down the aisle. You're a lucky, lucky man, Stubbles."

"It's a fake wedding," Jane reminded him irritably. "And I don't see why we have to go to all this trouble. Why not just grab him when he shows up and be done with it?"

"That would be a great idea," Rich responded, "if Hines had made it onto your most wanted list for being the dumbest criminal ever. Trust me, if he even smells a set-up, he'll be gone before you catch a glimpse of him. No, in order to make this work, we're going to have to go all in. You know, marriage license, a wedding announcement in the Times, the whole nine yards. Huh. Guess you do have a few things to do besides just show up and say I do after all."

"That . . . could be a problem," Patterson commented. "Jane will need a birth certificate or naturalization record to apply for a marriage license, in addition to a driver's license, passport, or employment picture ID, and she doesn't have any of those things."

"I have amnesia," Jane clarified as Rich's confused gaze swung to her. "I was told by . . . someone I knew in my past that my name is Alice Kruger and I was born in South Africa, but I have no idea if that's true or not." Well, she suspected the story on the whole was true, but given that Shepherd had known the entire time that she was working for the FBI, she had no idea if the name was accurate. She wouldn't have divulged anything that could lead back to her, that was for certain.

"But there's no . . . Mr. Doe that you know of?" Rich clarified. "You are single?"

"Yeah," Jane confirmed. "There's not . . . I've never been married." She believed that beyond the shadow of a doubt, though she had no absolute basis for that certainty.

"No worries," Rich said easily. "I have contacts in South Africa. I'll have your birth certificate here within twenty-four hours if you'll let me make a phone call." Or a damn near perfect forgery, if necessary. One that would never be questioned. "But that still doesn't explain why you don't have employment ID."

She had before Kurt had arrested her, but since her return, she'd been issued a permanent guest pass, rather than an ID identifying her as a consultant. Just one more way she'd been made to feel like she wasn't part of the team any longer. Though relations between them had improved somewhat recently, leading her to believe it was more an oversight than a deliberate slight.

"I'll have a consultant ID issued for her by the end of the day," Kurt promised as Rich's irritated gaze turned on him, not quite sure why he was tacitly apologizing to a criminal. Probably because the wounded look in Jane's eyes when Rich brought it up had reminded him of yet another of his shortcomings. He seemed to be making them with astonishing regularity these days.

"Good," Rich said, cheerful once more. "Then I think we're all set. Given what you've just told me, Jane, I assume you'll want these two—" he waved a hand at Patterson and Zapata, "—to be your bridesmaids, so why don't you guys head on out and get to dress shopping? And make sure she picks out the dress she really likes," he advised them. "Money's no object here. I want her to have the wedding she's always dreamed of."

As if she would know what that looked like, Jane thought sourly as she followed the agents out of the room at Kurt's concurring nod. She had amnesia. And even if she did know, she would hardly want the arrangements for a fake wedding to be the same as on her special day, assuming she was ever lucky enough to have one. Rich was obviously having a difficult time distinguishing fantasy from reality. He had clearly been in solitary too long.

Rich was as good at his word at delivering her birth certificate—for which Jane was grateful, since it gave her some legitimacy, though she doubted it would protect her from the CIA—but despite his promise that they wouldn't have to do anything but show up, a flurry of wedding-related details kept popping up that required her and Kurt's attention, in addition to their regular caseload, and the next five days fairly flew by.

The wedding went off without a hitch, except for their fake minister coming down with food poisoning, but fortunately a bystander volunteered to stand in, and before they knew it, they were being introduced to their guests as man and wife.

"Has anyone spotted Hines?" Jane whispered to Kurt as they started down the aisle.

"Not yet," he murmured back, trying to ignore how good Jane's hand felt in his. "Rich said he thought he'd show up at the reception, rather than the wedding."

If he showed up, Jane thought skeptically, beginning to suspect that they had been played again. Hines still hadn't shown his face by the time they finished taking the myriad of pictures Rich insisted on and appeared at the reception, so after making the rounds greeting their guest, Kurt led Jane onto the dance floor for the requisite first dance as husband and wife.

Jane closed her eyes as Kurt drew her into his arms, fighting the urge to rest her head on his shoulder as they swayed slowly to the music. This wasn't real, she reminded herself, but oh, how she wished it were. Everything Rich had picked out had been just exactly what she would have chosen for herself.

Especially her groom.

They had just begun to cut the cake when Kurt got word that Hines had been apprehended, but to Jane's surprise and secret delight, he opted to keep up the ruse for the sake of the guests who were present who weren't aware of the ruse, and to all outward appearances, they looked like a couple deeply in love as they fed one another cake and fielded well-wishes as the guests gradually began to dissipate.

She owed Rich Dotcom a big debt of gratitude, Jane thought often in the days that followed, as things between her and Kurt not only improved dramatically, but relations with the other team members thawed as well. In fact, they were almost back to what they had been before she was arrested.

At least until one morning a little over a week after the wedding when Kurt came storming into the office looking like a thundercloud. "My office," he ordered her without preamble. "Now!"

"Kurt?" Jane asked hesitantly as she followed him in there, and he pierced her with a glare that would have had her shaking in her boots if she'd done anything wrong. As it was, she was just confused. "What's wrong?"

"Did you know about this?" he demanded, shoving the envelope he had received in the mail last night at her. He honestly didn't think she had, but he needed to see her reaction for himself, needed to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that . . .

Jane's face paled as she pulled the piece of paper from the envelope and quickly scanned its contents. "Is this . . ."

"Our marriage certificate," Kurt told her grimly. "I went by the city clerk's office on the way here. It's legal." He took a deep breath as he met her eyes again. "We're married."