Took a break from writing. My muse had taken a vacation but now she is back, lol. I hope you enjoy this one shot. Based on the in between time of Episode 3x01 and 3x02. Reviews are accepted, good or bad.
My heart beats only for you…..
Feel my kind of love….
It had been a hard day. And she was tired, a weariness that had worn her down all day. Maura Isles rested against the front door seconds after coming home. Nothing but silence greeted her. Not the friendly bickering of the Rizzoli brothers or their mother chastising them as she cooked dinner. She had missed that. The sense of family. She missed the feeling of belonging to a clan of people, who accepted her for her. All of her social miscues, and awkwardness didn't bother them. They were her family. More so than her own.
Jane.
She missed Jane the most. The only other human being who took her for what she was and not for what she had. Maura had more than her share of experiences with that type. And although she knew what the person's motive was, sometimes she let it fly simply so that she wouldn't feel lonely. Jane had showed her that she didn't need to tolerate that behavior. She taught Maura that she was worth taking a genuine interest in and learning about.
Jane.
Pushing off the door, Maura slipped off her 4 inch heels and sighed as her feet touched the carpet foyer. She followed the carpet up to her bedroom and changed out of her Versace suit and into yoga pants. She reached under her pillow and pulled on a Boston PD baseball jersey that read J. Rizzoli. She doesn't remember when Jane had left it but Maura does remember the last time Jane wore it. A sudden family get together with a sprinkle of co-workers throughout, in her backyard for an impromptu barbeque. Jane had worn it over and played a game of catch with Frankie. As the day wore on, the temperature rose and Jane disrobed to a tank top, throwing the t-shirt to the side. Maura picked it up, tossing a look at Jane. Jane in turn shrugged and said "What?" And went back to tossing the ball with her brother smiling at Maura.
Turning on the kitchen light, she greeted Bass and saw that Angela had already fed him seeing the remnants of lettuce littering his eating mat. She cleared and cleaned the area then poured herself a glass of wine. Maura took a few sips before shifting herself toward the couch and turning on the television. She smirked at her actions thinking that Jane and her brothers were the reason for the purchase of the 60 in flat screen. "Sports are a way of life, Maur," Jane explained. Maura turned to Sportscenter.
She watched as Maura wiped away the tears and sipped more wine. She picked up the phone when the doctor's face crumpled into a crying fit.
Maybe it was the case load that had worn her down. Few of the lab technicians had come down with a stomach virus so she was light with staff. Maybe it was the lack food. Maura didn't enjoy going to lunch by herself. Not anymore. Or maybe she was just tired. She couldn't remember the last time she had a full night's rest. Her world had been turned upside without Jane's presence. But she had wanted it that way. Jane had betrayed her. She shot her father. Maura's laughs thru her tears at the thought of calling him her father. "He's your sperm donor," Jane acknowledged after the term father was not taken well by Maura. And here she was missing her friend and crying over a man she didn't even know or liked. The thought Jane made her river overflow. Maura curled up in a ball on the couch and continued to cry, soaking the jersey and the fabric of the furniture. She fell asleep.
She turned the knob slowly and closed the door gently. Just as she was told, Maura laid on the couch asleep. She removed the wine glass from the floor, surprised of it sitting there. It was, however, empty. Picking up the remote, she turned off the television. She shrugged out of her leather jacket, throwing it on the chair behind her. Easing her arm underneath the sleeping woman's legs and her back, she easily cradled her in her arms. Without thought, the sleeping woman wrapped her arms around the other's neck and moaned contentment as she settled down. The trip to the bedroom was easy and so was placing the unconscious woman in bed. She went back downstairs to lock up and set the alarm. Before going back up, she held her phone and dialed a familiar number.
"Yeah, Ma, she's asleep. Yeah, I'm staying the night. Love you."
Maura burrowed deeper into the warm body not fully aware of its owner until she took a deep breath. She could tell by the accelerated heartbeat and cadence of breathe that the person was awake.
"Jane," she sighed.
"You're awake."
She remained silent not wanting the ruin the familiar mood of waking up in Jane's arms.
"You needed me and you didn't call me."
Maura still remained quiet.
"I don't care if we argue, have a disagreement or fight. You call me if you need me. Understand?"
Maura nodded.
"I love you, Maura and nothing is going to change that. Nothing," Jane sighed.
More tears were shed and Jane wrapped her arm around Maura tighter. She waited until Maura relaxed again before kissing the crown of her head. It was been two weeks of not talking to Maura and Jane had barely held onto her sanity. She didn't realize how much Maura was a part of her life until the woman removed herself. Jane couldn't take another separation. She wouldn't tolerate it.
"I love you, too, Jane."
"Good."
"A verbal fight is a disagreement or argument between two or more people."
"Missed you, Googlemouth," Jane smiled settling further into the bed. "Now go back to sleep before my mother barges in here. I need my beauty sleep."
Maura told her to leave. She left her sitting on the thin patch of grass mourning over a life she never had; over a mother she never knew and a mother who would never know her. With tears streaming down her face, Maura Isles openly cried her anger hoping to relieve her heart of the hurt. It didn't work. She thought of the life she would never share with her birth mother. She had been robbed of that opportunity. So her hatred grew for him. She didn't know him to hate him before. She didn't know him now. But the fact of what he did, Maura could never forgive him. For her protection, Jane told her. Her protection. Patrick Doyle hadn't the right to think of her as his daughter, nor did he have the right to "protect" her from her birth mother.