Oh, Brother…
Disclaimer: All recognizable Rizzoli & Isles characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners including, but not limited to Tess Gerritsen. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this fan fiction story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No financial gain is associated with the publishing of this story. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: This is one of the many ways I imagined the episode "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother" ending. Thanks to those of you who mentioned this particular episode to me. There will surely be more fics in the future focusing on this episode.
In a matter of twenty-four hours I had felt nearly every human emotion. I'd been proud—proud of Tommy for gaining some independence and moving out of Maura's guesthouse. I'd been shocked—shocked to learn that Tommy could have been involved in the bank robberies, shocked that my best friend knew and didn't tell me. I'd been angry—angry at Tommy for getting involved with anyone that might be involved in this, angry at Tommy for giving me reason to doubt him, angry at Maura for not telling me what she knew and dammit, angry at Tommy for trying to kiss my best friend. Whether or I wanted to admit it or not, I'd been jealous—completely jealous that my brother had the courage to make a move on my best friend, however rebuffed. I'd been relieved—both when Maura was able to match the paint specks to that house in Dorchester and when we pieced together the details of the bank robberies, robberies Tommy had nothing to do with. I'd been happy—happy to see my brother walk free, happy to see how relieved my mother was. In the span of one day, I'd felt so many emotions and ironically, just as many had been caused by Maura as Tommy.
I'd said some pretty awful things to my best friend in the process of clearing Tommy. But when she was going on about electrons in her lab, I meant it when "I love that you know that" tumbled out of my mouth. When she said "so you don't hate me?" I wasn't being serious when I told her I still hated her. Something tells me she wasn't being serious either when she said she'd work on hating me, too. That something? What she said when we'd wrapped the case and were back at my apartment gagging on the rancid wine Tommy had given Maura.
"Look, I like Tommy…a lot. But I love you, and I hate it when you hate me, so I don't want to do anything to compromise our friendship."
Hearing Maura mention our friendship would have otherwise dampened my elation at hearing her tell me she loves me, but the way she looked at me told me this discussion wasn't only about our friendship. Maura had a way of speaking with her eyes. She could look at me and without saying a word express everything she was thinking, feeling, wanting. We were incredibly close and there was no doubt we loved each other as friends, but we weren't the type to say it. So when she told me she loves me, I instantly knew we weren't talking about our friendship. We were talking about something much greater than that. Something neither of us had been willing to articulate in the months since we both recognized the change between us. It had happened sometime before I'd killed Hoyt, sometime after Ian waltzed into our lives and shattered Maura's heart once again. And every day since that moment in the prison infirmary when I realized if I didn't do something immediately Charles Hoyt would kill not only my best friend, but the best thing that has ever happened to me, I started wrestling with the notion that Maura and I could be something more.
When I went off on Maura about what friends do for one another, my anger got the better of me. I know that the practical, rule-following Maura would not know how to bypass what she was obligated to do professionally for what she was expected to do personally. As Frost said, she was only doing her job. When I went off on Maura for not telling me about Tommy, I wondered after whether or not I was yelling at her for not telling me about him being a suspect or about the almost kiss. That question alone signified what had changed between us—my jealousy.
Trying to read Maura's 'but I love you' comment in real time was extremely difficult. She had that flirtatious look on her face, the one she gets when she says things like I'm not her type. There was a look in her eyes that I'd never seen before. Her eyes were genuine, as usual for Maura, and they told me everything I needed to know. She, too, had been wrestling with the notion that we could be something more.
"Good because I hate it when I have to hate you."
It was the best I could come up with, flirtatious or not.
Our banter had returned. We joked about the awful wine, I finished my grilled cheese sandwich and Maura remained across the counter from me. It wasn't long after our conversation died down that I realized we'd been staring into each other's eyes. The look I'd seen when Maura told me she loved me had returned.
"Jane?" Maura said as she reached across the counter and laid her hand over mine.
"Hmm?" I said as I finished the beer I'd started to wash the rancid wine taste out of my mouth.
"Why have you never tried to kiss me?" she queried.
Maura's question caught me completely by surprise. I let out a burst of breath and tried to compose a rational thought.
"Well…" I stammered, "I guess…" Nothing coherent was coming.
"I stopped him, Jane," she said quietly.
"Okay?" I was completely confused by what her stopping him had to do with me never trying to kiss her.
"If I tried to kiss you, would you stop me?" Maura all but whispered.
Here was my best friend, the woman I'd recently started to view as more than just my friend, and she was asking me if she could kiss me. I had no idea what to say or how to say it. I was proud of my ability to keep my jaw from dropping, but not so proud of my complete inability to offer more than one-word answers to this conversation.
"No," I responded after a brief pause. Maybe another one-word answer was exactly what this situation called for.
Slowly Maura was getting up from the stool, her hand still covering mine. I certainly didn't imagine when she asked if I would stop her from kissing me that she meant right now!
"Maura?" I interrupted. The look on Maura's face seemed to be afraid I was stopping her, just as she had stopped Tommy.
"Would you stop me if I tried to, uh, kiss you?" I rasped. One of Maura's trademark smiles broke out across her face; erasing the fear I'd placed there the moment before.
"No, Jane, and I'd never stop you if you ever tried to kiss me," Maura responded. The counter between us wasn't keeping our faces from leaning closer and closer together.
"And that's why I stopped Tommy," Maura uttered just as our lips met.
Maura's impeccably glossed lips were fantastically soft. I'd never felt lips against my own as soft or as welcoming.
"I thought you didn't kiss Tommy because you didn't want to compromise our friendship," I breathed as our lips parted, but our faces remained close, our foreheads touching.
"I didn't want to compromise our friendship or the possibility that…" Maura paused, her hand still atop mine, "…we could ever be something more."
Her honesty was beautiful and not simply because it was as genuine as was her inability to lie. Her honesty meant there could be a future for she and I, a future I'd contemplated, but never truly thought possible. The idea that we could be something more made my heart leap in my chest. I leaned in and kissed Maura, really kissed her. There was intensity in the second kiss that told Maura that a future is what I wanted with her as well. And in the second kiss there was hope.