A/N: Tumblr prompt: use the lines "I can't breathe" and "please listen to me." This is a oneshot.

xxxx

She said yes.

She said yes and now she is here. Here in this fancy boutique, standing on a pedestal and staring at her reflection in the full length mirror. She fidgets in white lace as the women sitting behind her voice their critiques:

too much lace.

not enough lace.

it's rather revealing, don't you think?

how about ivory?

you'd look so beautiful in a ball gown, Janie.

"Ma, I'm not wearing a ball gown. Jesus, I'm not a princess for crying out loud."

"Don't get smart with me," Angela warns. "You're my little girl, I want to see you in a ball gown. I picked out a few and put them in your dressing room."

"I still think she should try the mermaid style I picked out," Carla added, "try that one next."

Jane rolls her eyes and sighs. "Fine," she mumbles under her breath as she walks back to her private room where the attendant is waiting for her. Of course my mom would bring Carla freaking Talucci to my dress appointment. As if one Italian mother's opinions isn't enough.

And then there was Cindy. Cindy Jones. Casey's mother, sitting quietly, smiling coldly at each dress, making the occasional face or comment of dislike.

I should've waited, Jane thought as the dressing room attendant began undoing the ridiculously long line of buttons down her back. I should've waited for Maura. She'd make this so much easier. Jane had frowned when the doctor texted her half an hour ago, letting her know she was running late. She apologized, but explained that she got pulled in for a last minute consult on a case, but would be there as soon as she could. Jane said she would wait for her; Maura insisted she start without her.

So now, here she is, trying on a fifth dress without her best friend.

xxxx

Maura had lied. Sort of. She was running late and technically it was a consult… just not on a case. It was with her mother. When Maura had pulled into a parking space at the bridal boutique, she couldn't bring herself to get out the car.

When Jane had told her she accepted Casey's proposal, she nearly crumbled to the ground in tears. She was losing Jane. Her best friend. The woman she loved.

She should've told her.

But she didn't.

Instead: Congratulations. I'm happy you're happy. Of course I'll be your maid of honor.

She learned to deal with it, as painful as it was, she coped. She even managed to help pick out a venue, recommend a bakery with the best chocolate cake, and assisted Angela with the menu.

But this. The thought of seeing Jane in a wedding dress? She wasn't ready. It was going to make everything feel too real. Too set in stone. The little spot in the back of her mind, reserved for the fantasy of Jane admitting she made a mistake and that Maura was the person she loved, prevented her from getting too upset about the wedding. There was still hope that Jane would finally realize that when she had said the words, "I like Tommy, but I love you," she had meant it. If she saw the dress, all hope would be gone.

So, she texted Jane, letting her know she was running late, rested her head against the steering wheel and called her mother.

While their relationship was still a work in progress, Constance was the only person Maura talked to about her feelings for Jane. All it took was that one night at Constance's art installation to realize that her daughter was in love; that Jane was clearly smitten and oh so protective. She didn't believe it when Maura told her they were "just friends." So that's how it started, how their relationship began to improve: all because of Jane.

"Maura?" Constance asked into the receiver when she didn't hear a greeting. "Are you there?"

A sharp intake of breath was her answer.

"Are you alright?" her concerned voice cut through the interior speakers of Maura's Prius.

"J-jane's getting married," Maura rushed out before her shoulders shook as she released a painful sob.

If Constance was surprised by the news, she didn't voice it. She remained silent as she listened to her daughter cry and struggle to breathe. She was surprised. And a little bit angry at Jane. Her daughter loved that woman, how could she be so oblivious? How could she hurt her like that?

"I'm so sorry," she finally said once Maura steadied her breathing. "Did she… are you with her now?"

Maura leaned back against her seat, wiping her cheeks. "Yes… no, I mean sort of," she sighed, "I'm sitting in my car outside the bridal shop. I can't do it. I can't go in there and watch her try on dresses… I can't," she managed before she began to cry again.

"What?" Constance asked in disbelief, assuming that Jane had just told Maura she was engaged, not knowing the wedding plans were already in place.

"I-I'm supposed to help her pick out a wedding dress and the bridesmaid dresses with Angela an-and Casey's mom," she cried, "I can't do it. I can't bring myself to go inside."

"Oh, Maura," her mother said in a heartbroken voice. "When?" she asked, needing more details, "When did she-"

"Almost two months," Maura answered. "She got engaged two months ago and the wedding is soon… too soon. Casey," she trembled, "he-he's the one who wants it to happen so quickly."

"It's not fair," she gets out, "I l-love her."

"Have you told her?" Constance asked after a while, her voice gentle.

"No. I-I don't want to lose her. I need her."

"Darling. I think you should tell her."

"I can't. She's happy. I-I don't want to hurt her."

Constance sighed. But she's hurting you! she wanted to yell.

"Well," Constance began, trying to think of what to say, "if you don't want to tell her and you don't want to lose her, go in there and be her friend. I can't imagine how difficult it must be… to watch the woman you love-," she stopped. "But, you're an Isles. You're strong, Maura."

When her daughter didn't say anything, she tried to add a bit of humor. "And… if anyone can pick out a dress, it's you dear. Go in there and do what you do best."

It worked. Maura let out a small laugh and wiped her cheeks, checking her appearance in the mirror.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Of course, Maura. I love you and… I'm so sorry. Jane's an idiot."

"Mom!"

"I'm sorry. I just-"

"I know."

"Good luck."

Maura ended the call, took a deep breath and exited her car.

Here we go.

xxxx

The first person she sees is Angela. "I'm so sorry I'm late. I was-," the rest of her sentence dies in her throat as she looks up, catching a glimpse of Jane as she struggles to walk in the form fitting mermaid dress.

"Jane," she exhales.

"Maura," Jane looks up quickly and smiles, "you're here. Thank god!"

Maura forgets about the women sitting on the couch as she makes her way to stand in front of her friend. "You look-"

"Ridiculous?"

It was Maura's turn to smile.

"Well, it's no Red Sox jersey," she replies, making Jane laugh. "But you look beautiful."

Jane blushes.

They both turn to look at their reflections in the mirror, oblivious of the mother's and their commentary.

Jane fidgets. "It's too...tight," she says, turning slightly to look at her back.

"It's very flattering," Maura adds, her hands unable to resist reaching out. She places them on Jane's waist, moving to stand behind her. As she admires Jane's body in the mirror, Jane's eyes focus on the smaller woman's hands. She tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as Maura's hands slide lower, resting on her hips. "It shows off your body, but-"

"But what?"

They make eye contact in the mirror.

"It's not very you."

"No?"

Maura shakes her head and unwittingly tightens her grip.

"What would make it more me?" Jane asks quietly, her eyes searching.

Before Maura can answer, Angela interrupts their moment with, "I still think you'll look better in a ballgown," causing both women to turn and face the ladies on the couch. "Don't you agree, Maura?"

Maura bites her lip, glancing from Angela to Jane.

"Actually," she hesitates before looking back to the Rizzoli matriarch, "I've always pictured Jane wearing a jumpsuit. J Crew bridal collection has this lovely ivory lace option-"

"A jumpsuit?!" Angela interrupts, looking at Maura incredulously.

"I…" she says nervously, "well, yes. Or a tailored tuxedo would also look lovely." She looks at Jane who is smiling at her.

Cindy scoffs. "My son is not marrying a woman in a tuxedo. Please, how ridiculous."

"Hey!" Jane responds, ready to pounce. She doesn't care that this woman is her soon to be mother-in-law. Mother-in-law. She feels sick.

Feeling Jane's body tense beneath her fingers, Maura removes her hands and steps back, shaking her head. "No, no it's fine."

Jane looks at her, trying to read her face.

"Mrs. Jones is right," Maura says. Mrs. Jones. She wants to puke. "It was a stupid idea."

Cindy smiles like she's won.

"I'm just going to go look at the bridesmaids dresses," Maura says, pointing to the other side of the boutique.

"Maura," Jane pleads.

"It's fine, Jane," she lies. "I'll be back in time to see your next dress," she says and walks away.

Jane glares at Cindy before reluctantly heading back to the fitting room, resisting the urge to make sure Maura really is ok. She knows she's not.

Fuck, she thinks, this is not how today is supposed to go. I'm supposed to be happy. This is supposed to be fun, even though I hate dresses and wedding planning, this is supposed to be fun... or something. Maura should be back here with me, laughing at the absurd dress options ma picked out, should be helping find the right dress. My... mother-in-law, future mother-in-law wasn't supposed to insult my best friend and fill the room with tension. My mother-in-law shouldn't even be here! It should just be me and Maura. And Ma, if I plan on living. Maura should be back here with me, helping me in and out of dresses. Everything, everything about this is wrong.

"Jane?" a voice interrupts her thoughts.

"Huh?" she whipped her head around at the woman who was helping her in and out of dresses.

"You're all zipped up and ready to go."

"What? Oh. Right," she says and hoists up the bottom of the dress so she can walk, not bothering to look at herself in the small dressing room mirror.

On her way to the pedestal, she stops abruptly when she see's Maura standing there in a knee length, strapless coral bridesmaid dress with a sweetheart neckline. The color showcasing her freckled shoulders. Beautiful. Her audible gasp makes Maura turn.

The doctor smiles at her before covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her laughter.

"What?!" Jane asks and walks over to stand next to Maura on the pedestal, finally getting a look at herself. "Oh my god… Ma!" she whips her head around to glare at her mother, "Seriously? This is the dress you picked out?!"

Ignoring her daughter's words, Angela says, "Oh honey, you look beautiful," and gets up from the couch to walk over to them. "This is the one. Definitely."

"Are you crazy?"

"No! This dress is beautiful, you look just like a princess. Let me get Nonna's veil," she says and goes to retrieve said item.

Jane looks at Maura in the mirror, eyes wide. "She's crazy right?"

Maura drops her hand, still smiling. "You do look beautiful, but-"

"It's not me?" she repeats the words from earlier.

Maura shakes her head, "No, it's not you. While the dress does look nice on you, you look… uncomfortable. Awkward-" Jane glares at her. "I'm sorry, but it's true. You're shifting around, slouching your shoulders. You look like you'd rather be anywhere else," she finishes with a small laugh. "That's not how you should feel in your wedding dress. You should feel beautiful and happy and… you." As she finishes her sentence, Angela is back, reaching up to place the long veil on Jane's head.

She steps back to admire her daugher. "Doesn't she look great?" she asks, turning to the other women. They nod.

"Put the veil back, let's see what Casey will see when you're at the altar," Cindy chimes in.

Jane hesitates as she watches a look of hurt flash across Maura's face, as her scarred hands reach for the veil. She stops when a gentle voice says, "let me." Jane can only nod and drop her hands.

The moment seems to happen in slow motion as Maura gently reaches up to flip the veil back, slowly revealing Jane's face. They never once break eye contact; the intimacy of the moment not lost on either of them.

Maura's eyes begin to water as she drops her hands and grabs onto Jane's wrists. "Don't," she whispers, her voice barely audible. It's now or never, she thinks.

Jane looks at her, confused.

"Please don't marry him."

Jane's hands start to shake. "What?" she asks in disbelief, even though she's heard perfectly clear.

"Please don't-" Maura begins again when Jane interrupts her:

"No, stop. I heard you," she says roughly and pulls herself out of Maura's grasp. "I heard you," she repeats. Jane suddenly feels very warm. Hot. The skin beneath her dress is turning pink. It itches. Her hands clutch at the back of neckline as she tries to get a hold of the zipper.

"I can't," she says hurriedly, "I can't breathe." frantic now.

"Jane?" Maura asks in growing concern, trying to reach out again.

"Honey?" Angela asks, getting closer.

"Don't touch me!" Jane yells, shocking them all. "I can't breathe… get this off of me!" Her voice is shakey as her hands clutch her chest, "I can't breathe, I can't do this."

And before anyone can say anything, Jane runs off to the dressing room.

Maura doesn't hesitate to follow, leaving three stunned and confused women standing in the middle of the store.

"Jane!" she calls after her, kicking off her heels and following the detective into the dressing room. "I'm sorry!" she says, but Jane doesn't look at her. She's too preoccupied with trying to get the damn dress off so she can breathe.

"Just let me…" Maura's voice trails off as she manages to get her hands on the zipper, nearly yanking it open. The instant Jane feels the fabric break free, the entire top half of her body is out of the dress. She collapses in a heap on the floor, breathing heavily as she gasps for air. Maura is right next to her, sitting quietly. She can't help but reach out, placing her hands on Jane's back. "I'm sorry."

"I can't do this," Jane says after a while, "I can't… I can't get married in this frilly ballgown and eat vanilla cake… who gets plain vanilla for their wedding?" she asks almost hysterically, "I can't… I can't-"

"So we'll find you another dress," Maura says reasonably. Always quick to compartmentalize. "And I'll order you that triple chocolate cake with coffee frosting and-"

"No!' Jane interrupts in frustration, "that's not what I…" she sighs and turns in their awkward little heap of lace and tears a coral chiffon to look at Maura. "I can't get married. Period."

"What?" Maura barely manages to get out.

"I can't get married," Jane repeats, "Not unless there's hazelnut almond cake with chocolate ganache and mocha buttercream. I can't get married unless it's on a cliff above a volcano in Santorini."

Maura's eyes widen as she recognizes her own words. "Jane,"

"Please. Listen to me," she reaches out for Maura's hands, "I can't get married unless... unless it's you."

They're both crying.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Jane asks after Maura collapses against her in an embrace.

"I did," Maura says quietly against a bare collarbone.

"Sooner, I mean. Not today while I'm trying on dresses, when half the wedding is already planned, not when Casey's mom is sitting right out-"

"I did," Maura interrupts with the same words. "I… two years ago. I told you I loved you," her voice drops to an even quieter tone, "you never said it back."

"Oh, Maura," Jane says sadly as she pulls Maura closer. "So you were just gonna let me marry Casey and not say a word?"

"I wanted you to be happy."

"But what about you?"

Maura shrugs against her.

God I'm an idiot.

"You make me happy," Jane says quietly, but firm.

"What about Casey… the wedding?" Maura asks.

"I'll cancel it."

"Jane,"

"I'm serious, Maur. It'll be hard to tell him and… everyone, but I don't care."

They sit for a while, tears rolling down their cheeks before Jane speaks again:

"I like Casey, but I love you."