A More Permanent Proposal. (1/2)

AN: this literally came out of no where. I have a prompt in my inbox asking for Jane to be the one to propose to Kurt, but this came out instead! I'll get to that prompt someday though, so have no fear anon. Until then, I hope you all enjoy this. This is part one of two! Alternate title: Kurt Weller tries not to be terrified of commitment. Story below the cut! xo

There aren't very many things that scare Kurt Weller. His short list consists of normal things, like his sister's cooking, or Mayfair finally denying him overtime. Every now and then the idea of having to actually tie a tie and wear a suit to work might send him into a temporary spell of panic. Sitting in front of Dr. Borden for psych evaluations make him uncomfortable at best, and terrified at worst. In true FBI Agent fashion Kurt finds a variety of ways to deal with each obstacle and move forward.

He eats Sarah's meals with a smile even if it's burnt (which is almost always). He works just enough hours shy of overdoing it to keep Mayfair happy (and by happy he means she glares less when he sneaks out of the office at ten o'clock). He reminds himself that the suit and tie are typically a twice a year occasion (honestly, it makes him itch just thinking about it). He tells Dr. Borden what he wants to hear (which sometimes means lying through his teeth).

With his expertise in these inconsequential everyday crises (in combination with the sometimes nightmarish crises he encounters on the job), he's perfectly prepared to make almost any decision necessary with complete confidence in his ability not to fuck it up. Except for one.

"Buying a ring for Jane shouldn't be this complicated, " Kurt laments to Reade, eyes glazed over after hours of prowling the internet and various jewelers websites.

"Jane is complicated, but so are you," Reade replies matter of factly before pointing to the computer screen, "look at that one next."

It's Thursday night and they've spent the last two hours holed up in Kurt's office at the bureau long after everyone else has gone home. It's been their ritual for the past three weeks, blaming paperwork for keeping them in while the girls go out for drinks. After initially consulting his sister, who's excitement at the prospect of having a sister-in-law became a bit overwhelming, Kurt chose to seek the advice elsewhere. Edgar Reade is the FBI's resident authority on making sensible decisions—in the field and when it comes to fashion (Kurt can only hope Sarah won't be offended her own brother went to her boyfriend for help instead of her).

Help aside, it's a goddamn act of congress that's incredibly close to sending Kurt over the proverbial edge of what little sanity he has left. He's hawked every jeweler between Long Beach and Manhattan, and they now know him on a first name basis. He's spent more hours than necessary on every subway in the city making sure Jane didn't tail him during his excursions. Jared, Cartier, Kay, or Zales? If he gets a diamond, should it be smaller than one carat or larger? Would she prefer some other kind of stone for an engagement ring? What if Sarah's wrong about the size she wears? What if she hates it? What if she says no?

"Jane loves you man, chill, she's not going to say no."

Reade is the uncannily psychic, ever present voice of reason when Kurt's composure contemplates careening off a cliff. He repeats these words to Kurt like a mantra, and most days it's the only thing he needs to reel himself back in, but right now it's not really working.

Kurt frowns and refreshes the browser search engine. He diligently hunt-and-pecks at the keyboard, typing out engagement rings for the millionth time. Despite Reade's words of reassurance, a million what-ifs linger in the back of Kurt's mind where he tries to keep them buried, but there's one in particular that he can't quite shake. He's spent every night over the last four months praying that when he gets down on one knee, when he finally asks her, Jane will say yes.

But what if she doesn't?

When Kurt finally finds the ring, finally, after countless days of back and forth and indecision that borders on mania, it's as if the heavens part the New York City skies and angels start singing. He's simultaneously relieved and petrified, one step closer to the moment that may or may not change his life forever. He walks through Times Square with the black velvet box burning a hole in his pocket, and when he stands at the subway platform for the 42nd street terminal, he pulls it out and studies it. The Sunday crowd of New Yorkers waiting for the train are nonexistent as he stares at the tiny object, and it floors him how something so small could be the sole thing responsible for determining his future.

"Lucky girl, that's a beautiful ring."

Kurt resists the urge to jump out of his skin at the unexpected words of the stranger standing next to him, and in an attempt to remain composed he laughs a little, and grins, closing the velvet box and slipping it back into his coat pocket. The young woman grins back at him, freckled cheeks red from the December chill, not quite as red as the wild, curly hair that's tucked up under her hat. She appraises him knowingly from her spot next to him, and Kurt notices the two bands on her own ring finger, and for whatever reason it gives him some semblance of validation. Maybe he isn't screwing this up after all.

"Thanks, I hope she thinks so too," he murmurs, a little self-conscious, feeling rather small in the moment despite being the tallest person on the platform.

"I think she will," the stranger replies with a gentle laugh, "if you're a little worried, that's usually a good sign."

"What if you're more than a little worried?" Kurt curls his fingers around the box in his pocket, attempting to use it as a touchstone to keep the panic at bay, though the opposite seems to be the case.

"That bad, huh?" The stranger tilts her head in amusement, peering at him with bright blue eyes from behind her glasses. "On a scale of one to terrified, how nervous are you?"

"Terrified," Kurt deadpans, clutching the ring tighter as the train comes roaring into view before slowing to a stop in front of them.

The woman laughs again, patting his shoulder with her gloved hand reassuringly before the doors slide open and they step on. "Good, that's even better."

Of course Kurt had been naive to think finding the ring was the hard part. Finding the right time to give it to Jane makes the actual act of buying the ring seem like a walk in the park. He couldn't sleep before because he'd been worried about finding the damn thing, and now that he finally has it he can't sleep because he worries Jane will find it before he's perfected the moment that he'll give it to her.

After one week of trying to hide it in the apartment, and nearly losing his mind, he consults Reade and decides the safe in the office he rarely uses at work is a more secure option. That is until Tasha and Patterson catch him looking at it late one Friday night and all but lose heir mind in the process. After swearing them both to secrecy, less they want to find employment elsewhere, Kurt takes advantage of his team's problem solving skills now that they're all in the know. They've solved cases twice as difficult as a marriage proposal, so surely between Reade, Tasha and Patterson, the conundrum of how he will propose to Jane can be solved.

Kurt consults them in the late night hours Jane spends translating obscure languages for Mayfair, huddling together in the private office of Patterson's lab, sometimes over a glass of bourbon from the collection she keeps in her privately stocked drawer for emergencies such as this.

"What about proposing on top of the Empire State building?" Tasha suggests.

"Too predictable," Reade argues, brow furrowed as he thinks, and then says, "New Years in Times Square?"

"And I'm too predictable?" Kurt can hear Tasha's eyes do barrel rolls into the back of her head. "Proposing where you met someone is cute and all, but I think we can all agree the place where you woke up naked and drugged is a little weird and slightly insensitive."

"Try really weird and majorly insensitive," Patterson corrects.

"But he didn't technically meet her there!" Reade's attempt to defend himself falls short as both Tasha and Patterson eye him with a look that clearly says you can't be serious.

"Don't listen to either of them," Patterson turns to Kurt, pointing directly at him, or attempting to no thanks to her current state of sobriety, or lack there of. "Jane is a once in a lifetime kind of girl, she's going to need a once in a lifetime proposal."

"You saying you have an idea, P? Because I could really use one right about now." Kurt's not exactly trying to come across as desperate, but maybe he is.

"Oh I have an idea," Patterson bobs her head, her face glowing from the little alcohol, and she taps her fingers together in a way that reminds Kurt of a mad genius in the midst of conjuring up their next master plan. He wonders, briefly, if asking any of them had been such a good idea after all. He wonder's if asking Jane to marry him is a good idea after all. In fact, the more he drinks and the more he thinks about it, he thinks it might be a terrible idea. Maybe he should just forget the entire idea ever crossed his mind and—

"Don't look so worried, Weller. Trust me, there's no way I'm letting you screw this up."

AN: thanks for reading. Part two will be from Jane's POV. Stay tuned. x)