(Jane walks in while Lisbon is trying on her bridesmaid's dress.)
Lisbon: Jeez, Jane! You mind knocking?
Jane: Whoa. Oh, my.
Lisbon: Van Pelt must die.
Jane: No, no, no, no. You look good. This is... beautiful, like a princess. An angry little princess. Someone stole your tiara.
Lisbon: She caught me by surprise when she asked me, otherwise I'd never agree to be a bridesmaid. And why would she even ask me to do something like this? She knows I hate this crap.
Jane: I told her to ask you. I told her that you were secretly dying to be a bridesmaid.
Lisbon: Really? Why would you do that?
Jane: Oh, for the fun of it, and because, uh, of course, deep down you secretly do wanna be a bridesmaid. Go ahead, confess.