Author's Note: Maura Isles lives in San Francisco with her husband, Victor, who travels the world as a doctor. Victor has a colleague over who ends up treating her better than he does. This is a continuation of icantfindmyshadow's story 'Victorious Maurian', the first chapter is her's, I just wrote the following chapters. It's pre-Rizzoli & Isles, so there probably won't be any Jane or the others.
Maura was sitting on the couch, drinking a cup of English Breakfast tea and trying not to twiddle her thumbs when he walked in. The door slammed behind him, shaking the original Da Vinci on the wall. It would always rock back and forth and end up tilted 17 to the left when he came in. When she wasn't sure, all she would have to do was look to the painting and she'd know.
"Welcome home, Victor," Maura said warmly as she stood and made her way into the foyer.
"That's fine, Doctor. Yes, I'll show you the scans tonight," he held up his index finger to her. Maura made a face at his back, her eyelids dropping slightly and her tongue made a ticking sound against her teeth. She leaned against the wall and looked up at the painting while he finished his call. When he hung up, he placed his hands firmly on her hips. His body weight against her caused her to slam against the wall. He didn't see her grimace in pain as his lips were forcing hers to part.
Maura went limp, her hands against her side and her legs dangling. He greeted her this way every time he came home from Israel, or where ever else in the world he had been. It was as if he thought his forceful intimacy made up for his constant disappearances. The only thing she could do was wait for him to feel he'd fully redeemed himself. But, thankfully, he usually stopped after a few long seconds, much to her relief. Maura kept a clock on the other side of the entranceway for this reason.
But this time, the minute hand kept moving, as did his tongue. Her eyes widened and she started to beat against his chest with her hands. Finally, he all but dropped her and backed away, breathing heavy.
"It sure is nice to be home," Victor said with a loopy smile, already moving past Maura to the kitchen. She sighed and hung his jacket in the closet./pp"I made your favorite," she called after him.
"Uh…" the refrigerator door closed. "Did you make enough for three?"
Maura walked into the kitchen and looked at him. "I wasn't aware we were expecting company."
"I know. I'm sorry, baby. It was last minute, I didn't have a chance to call you before the plane too off," he didn't even stop to look at her. He was too busy putting together a messy ham sandwich and leaving smears of mustard and mayonnaise all over the counter. He's worse than a toddler, Maura thought. A teenager even!
She sighed and followed after his rushed movements, cleaning up.
We could just order pizza…" Victor said, knowing she was upset.
"No, I always make enough for leftovers," she paused and looked at him with hard eyes. "Not that you know that, you're never around for dinner when you emare /emhome."
Victor clenched his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive stance. "I'm helping people, Maura. You know that. I signed a contract, I have an obligation."
Maura scoffed. "I don't want to fight. But it would be nice if you could be home more often. You signed a contract with me as well."
He sighed but didn't argue. He knew his frequent and long trips abroad hurt her. And she knew that he saw their marriage as more of an obligation than his job. But neither did anything about it. Maura made her pain known, but never asked anything of him. If he wanted her to be happier with their relationship, he would have to take the initiative. Not her. Anyway, she knew he couldn't be forced into choosing. And if he was, Maura knew he would always pick work. So, she managed with life the way it was.
"How was your trip?"
"Long, but painless. I sat next to…" Victor began.
He went into a detailed telling of his encounter with a bank manager. He told how he'd pitched his proposal for a loan for One World.
One World was similar to Doctors Without Borders. It was founded by Victor and was now close to going bankrupt. Nonprofit organizations of that sort, little media and lots of costs, rarely lasted long. But Victor was determined. He first opened it with money he convinced Maura to give him. But that had soon run out. And Maura had nothing more to give. Well, she did. But she kept that bank account to herself, knowing if he even knew of its existence, it would be emptied immediately.
He was a charming and very persuasive man. And his graying hair just made him more attractive to her. Despite his neglect, she had a hard time resisting even his most demanding requests.
The doorbell rang its tune at 7:12 that evening. As Maura made her way to the door, Victor cut her off and dropped another piece of news on her.
"I completely forgot. I told him he could stay the night. I figured it wouldn't be a big deal…" he trailed off as his eyes searched her face for a reaction.
"You forgot…" she sighed by nodded. She took a deep breath and arranged her appearance. She pulled open the door, smiling with warmth she didn't feel.
Her smile faltered for a second when she first saw him. A man stood before her in a grey flannel shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to just past his elbows. He had a tan that told her he had definitely spent a lot of time nearer to the equator. Even through the thick fabric, she could see the muscles in his shoulders and across his chest. She swallowed and regained her façade before she looked up at his face. The spotlights in the lawn behind him cast his face in total shadow. But she could tell from the outline of his features that he was most definitely an attractive man, maybe more so than her husband.
"You must be Maura," he said in a New Zealand accent. Maura smiled tightly and began reciting medications in her head. A-Methapred, Abacavir Sulfate, Abarelix, Abatacept, Abciximab, Abelcet…
"Maura, this is Doctor Ian Faulkner. Ian, this is my wife Maura," Victor cut in, breaking Maura from her haze.
"It's nice to meet you Ian," she stepped aside to let him in.
"Victor didn't tell me you were so beautiful," Ian replied smoothly.
Maura laughed, it almost sounded like a girly giggle. She composed herself. "And he didn't tell me you were from New Zealand… Kiwi, is it?"
He nodded and smiled. "Most people think it's Australian. They can't tell the difference," he said. When he turned to face her, Maura saw that she was right. He was in fact, extremely handsome.
"Well, I hear you've been traveling all day. You must be hungry," she moved into the kitchen and wiped her hands on her apron, pretending they were wet from cooking. And not from the nerves she suddenly felt from meeting Victor's new colleague.
Dinner consisted of Victor talking only about his adventures of doctoring abroad. Ian tried harder than her own husband to include Maura in the conversation. She was used to taking a backseat when having someone over for dinner with Victor. But she found it nice to have someone looking out for her, even someone she didn't know.
After they ate, Maura refused Ian's repeated offers to help and Victor took him into his office for a glass of wine. Maura loaded up the dishwasher and washed down the counters while listening to the radio news. Nothing interesting was happening, another threat of a storm overnight. But nothing unusual.
At half past ten, she knocked on the door to Victor's office.
I'm sorry to interrupt. I'm going up to bed, I just wanted to show Ian where everything is," she said quietly.
"We were finishing up anyway," Victor stood immediately and pushed the open files into a desk drawer. Ian swallowed the last of his wine and handed the glass to Victor.
"Right behind you, Maura," he said. She led the way to the guest bedroom and pulled towels out of the linen closet for him.
"This is your room. Here are some towels. Use whatever you find. And if you need anything, let me know," she smiled and turned towards the door.
"Thank you, Maura," Ian's words were soft. They made her stop and look at him. He looked genuine, like he actually appreciated it. She smiled with equal feeling.
"You're welcome here anytime. I'd run a bed and breakfast if every house guest was a considerate as you," her eyes locked with his. "Goodnight. Really, wake me if you need anything."
"Goodnight," Maura saw him smooth his hand over the pillow on the bed as she closed the door. She sighed when she heard the click and moved towards her own bedroom alone, even though her husband was home.