This is my first written fic with this couple. I've had countless "mind fics" with these two and wanted to finally put something down in writing. I hope you enjoy it :) It's going to be very short (maybe 1 or 2 more chapters) since it's my first dabble with these two. We'll see if I manage to come up with anything else worth sharing.
Don't own anything.
Jane shifted on the couch, slipping her arm out from under Maura and resting it on the sleeping woman's back. She turned her head and looked at the clock, noting it had been two hours since they'd first lied on the couch to take a nap. Her back was getting sore, but there was no way she was going to get up, not when Maura was finally sleeping. Ever since Jane had been taken hostage last week, Maura hadn't been able to sleep. She'd been consumed with worry, scared that something would happen to her best friend. Even after they'd nabbed the guy (who had been responsible for the death of three city workers), Maura continued to be plagued with nightmares, her normally manageable anxiety fuelling her terrible dreams. The only thing that calmed her was when Jane was around, and more specifically, when Maura could touch her. So Jane had started sleeping over, staying with Maura in the master bedroom, and they'd both been sleeping well.
Unfortunately, Jane had been scheduled for a three-day training session in Maine (booked nearly six months ago), which meant Maura had spent three days getting barely any sleep. When Jane had returned early this morning and saw just how exhausted her poor friend looked, she forced Maura to call in (not as easy feat) and Jane had taken a vacation day. She'd been home a total of three hours, and two of them had been spent with Maura safely tucked into her side, face finally free of the worried frown that seemed permanently etched on her face this past week.
Jane would probably still be napping had she not heard the sound of her mother slowly opening the back door as she attempted to slip inside the house. She knew it was her mother not only by the fact that the woman was unable to do anything quietly, but also because of the very unquiet damn it that followed the woman accidentally kicking her foot into the bottom of the door. Jane let out a very low, very irritated grumble, whispering a soft "shh" when Maura stirred. She wanted nothing more than to snap at her mother to get the hell out, but there was no way to do so discreetly with Maura peacefully dozing in her arms. It was not worth the possibility of waking her sleeping friend, so Jane closed her eyes and attempted to quell her anger, while simultaneously cursing her mother in her mind. She heard the woman rummaging around in the kitchen, relatively quietly for Angela Rizzoli, before the noise stopped. She then sensed her mother approaching, so she did her best to feign sleep, not wanting the woman to engage her in a "whispered" question-and-answer session about how the training went.
Angela tip-toed around the couch, her breath catching at the sight of the two most important women in her life curled up on the couch together. She felt a bubble of love grow inside of her as she observed the two hard-working women sleeping peacefully. It was so rare to see them resting, without a worry line creasing the corner of their lips or a concerned look worn by one (or both) of them. Maura finally looked calm after days of frowned eyebrows, distracted conversation, fleeting glances to the door. She had been permanently glued to her phone, only feeling a few moments of relief after receiving a message from Jane. And Angela knew it was Jane. Only her daughter caused that warm smile to grace Maura's lips. Only her daughter caused the socially anxious woman to feel safe enough to open up and be herself, allow herself to give a real, genuine smile.
Angela reached to the back of the couch and carefully picked up the blanket draped there. She opened it and gently lay in on the two women, unable to hide the smile on her lips as she noticed just how securely Jane was holding Maura. Jane, her anti-hug, anti-touch, anti-anything-physical child, snuggly wrapped around her "best friend".
Angela couldn't help the snort.
"Yeah, best friend," she whispered to herself, sweeping Jane's bangs from her eyes. "There's nothing friendly about the way you look at her, baby. I only wish you'd get your head outta your butt long enough to realise what a great woman you have wrapped up in those arms of yours."
She leaned down and kissed Jane's forehead before doing the same to Maura.
"She worries about you night and day, Janie. Because she loves you. And you're never gonna find anyone better than Maura. Probably because there isn't anyone better. I just want you to be happy, honey. I hope one day you stop being so scared and let yourself love her the way she deserves to be loved. She can't wait for you forever."
Angela adjusted the blanket again, giving her two girls one last loving look before grabbing the mixing bowls she'd come in for and slipping out of the house.
Jane glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes. It had been twenty minutes since her mother had left and her heart and her mind were still competing to see who could be the loudest, work the fastest. No matter how much she tried to calm down, no matter how many breathing techniques she used, she could not stop the absolute chaos reigning over her body. Her mind refused to stop playing her mother's words over and over again and her heart refused to slow down at the absolute truth in them. She couldn't catch her breath. She needed to get out of here. She needed to flee.
Jane glanced down at the woman in her arms, the absolutely innocent, worried creature curled into her body. She tried to will her body and her mind to relax, but they wouldn't. They couldn't, not after a lifetime of being ingrained to run when this type of subject was broached. They were hardwired to flee.
Jane tried to tell herself to calm down, but she couldn't. She couldn't do this. The truth was too close. Her mother got too close. Too close to a truth, a secret, buried so deep within Jane that even she could pretend it didn't exist. But those words… There's nothing friendly about the way you look at her, baby... she loves you… I just want you to be happy. Those words wouldn't leave her alone; they wouldn't stop playing in her head like a broken record. Those words were a truth. An accusation.
Jane nearly yelped as she squirmed away from Maura, away from her mother's words, away from her own dirty secret. She held perfectly still as Maura shifted, frowned, and then finally settling into a new position. As soon as she was sure the woman was sleeping deeply once again, Jane bolted. She took the stairs two at a time and jerked open the door to her room. She refused to think about just how many of her clothes were here, how many of her things decorated this room, her room. She refused to acknowledge that she now thought of home as Maura's house and her apartment as… well, as the apartment. She couldn't think of those things because they caused her heart to beat even faster than it was, so she silenced the voices, instead narrating her actions as she moved.
Rip off the shirt. Find the sports bra. Where is the sports bra? Maura washed it while I was away- it'll be hanging on the clothes rack.
Jane jogged to the spare room and threw on her sports bra before running back to her room and putting on the rest of her running clothes. She raced down the steps and quickly tied on her shoes, jerking open the door. She was halfway out when she immediately stopped in her tracks. She had caught a glimpse of the small toes poking over the edge of the couch. Maura. If she left and Maura woke up, she'd worry. She'd worry something had happened.
Jane clenched her fist over the doorknob before angrily making her way into the kitchen. She was irritated. She needed to get out of here. She yanked a notepad out of the junk drawer, along with a pen, a scribbled a hasty note. She then placed the pad on the coffee table, right in Maura's line of sight. She paused as she set the pad of paper down, unable to stop herself from looking over the woman sleeping so peacefully before her. She looked so tired, so worn down, but God damn it she was just as beautiful as always. Jane's heart raced for an entirely different reason as she looked over the sleeping form, and when she realised what she was doing, she hastily broke her gaze and bolted from the room.
Jane ran. She ran as hard as she could, furthering herself from the memories, from the feelings, from the truth. She ran away from the memory of Miss Bartley, who had caused six year old Jane to flitter with excitement every time she gave her a hug. She ran from thoughts of Kelly Larch, who had caused ten year old Jane to flush a deep shade of red whenever she smiled her way. She pounded the pavement with every step, launching herself forward as she thought of Allie Lytle, with whom she'd shared her first, secret kiss. She'd been thirteen years old, and that was when she'd learnt just how cruel the world was. She'd fought hard against the names when her classmates had found out. Allie had been spared any taunting, the cute blonde in summer dresses couldn't be a lesbian. But Jane, who lived in jeans and band t-shirts, who was on the boys' wrestling team, who could throw a better punch than any guy in her grade, well, she was not safe from their taunting words. And when her parents had sat her down and questioned her, interrogated her, that was when Jane had decided she had to be different. She could see the disappointment in their faces, the shame. The shame they felt at what she might be, and so she'd changed. Yes, she still played sports and hung around with the guys, yes she still beat the shit out of anyone who dared taunt her, but teenage Jane also made herself do things to please her parents. She forced herself into a dress for prom, even though it felt too tight, too itchy. Even though it felt wrong. She made female friends, even though she longed to be with the guys, skateboarding and teasing each other and playing basketball. She kept a delicate balance in her adult life as well, allowing herself certain pleasures (like sports and beer and mostly male friends), and denying herself others. To keep up appearances. To keep up the charade.
Everything had to be balanced, and so when she'd become a cop, she'd had to quickly balance that more masculine career by being more feminine in her personal life. She'd grown out her hair, bought a few blouses, started dating guys. It hadn't been easy to date them. She'd had to force herself to focus on the things she liked about them in order to try and make it work. It wasn't that hard to find things she liked. She'd always had a ton of stuff in common with men. There was no drama, no tears, no hurt feelings if she said something brash. They were easy to please. They gave her space. They never pressured her to put a label on anything. But… they wanted sex. They wanted intimacy. They wanted touching. And Jane, Jane didn't. She didn't like them on top of her. She didn't like them inside of her. She didn't like them touching her, putting their mouths on her. She didn't like it when men touched her. Their hands were rough, their bodies all wrong for hers. She loathed every second of every intimate encounter she'd had with her old boyfriends.
Jane clenched her teeth as she forced those thoughts from her mind, pushing herself to run even faster as waves of disgust rolled over her body. She didn't hate men. She didn't. She liked them, she got along well with them. But she didn't want them anywhere near her body or her bed. And so after she'd gotten comfortable at the BPD, after she'd found a good circle of friends, after she'd earned her colleagues' respect, she dropped out of dating. She stayed single, only occasionally waving a guy around to stave of rumours. And she'd been comfortable, content.
Then, she'd met Maura.
Jane shook her head. She wasn't going to go there. She wasn't going to think about her best friend. She added another mental padlock on the securely closed door, one which she never ever opened. She continued running, focusing on the trail ahead of her, on the trees she passed, on the families out for a walk. Moms and dads and kids. Normal families. Real ones. Not pretend ones that lived in the darkest recesses of Jane's mind, ones that involved a very, very pretty honey blonde woman in a tight blue dress, holding hands with a slim brunette, surrounded by three or four energetic children.
No.
She wouldn't go there. Because she couldn't. She couldn't go there. Only, she wanted to. And it was getting so much harder. It was getting so much harder to pretend that she was happy, that she was okay with just being Maura's friend. It was getting so much harder to hide how she felt. How she'd always felt. It was getting harder to hide the true nature of her feelings for women as a whole with each passing day, with each year that went by. It was getting harder to deny what she truly wanted.
This week had messed with her, with her heart and her head. This past week, other than the three days she'd spent in Maine, she'd come home every night with Maura. They'd made and eaten supper together, they'd talked about their day, she'd watched ESPN while Maura read a medical journal, both cuddled on the couch. They'd fallen asleep next to one another. Maura had made her breakfast and Jane had driven them into work. Nothing had really changed, other than they had spent more time together, and yet for Jane, everything had changed. Suddenly, she was looking forward to going home. She was sleeping better. She was happier. She was eating healthily, and she found she didn't mind because Maura was the one feeding her. And she was a phenomenal cook. This week, Jane had been given a glimpse into what life would be like with Maura… and when she stopped to think about it, when she allowed herself just a fraction of a second to think about it… she realised she really wanted-
Jane cried out as pain sliced into her side. She was immediately brought to a halt, gripping her side as she attempted to breathe through the sheer burning pain radiating just below her rib. Gone were thoughts of Maura, replaced with an incredible stabbing sensation in her side. She walked, gulping in breaths of air as she dug her fingers against the ache. She took a deep breath and moved, continued running, as she fought against the tears of pain welling up in her eyes. She could handle physical pain. She was strong. She had endured. She had overcome every type of physical pain, including getting shot. She could work through physical pain. What she couldn't work through was that she was slowly coming to acknowledge that her whole life… had been a lie. It had revolved around one whole, big lie that she'd told herself and absolutely everyone else around her.
Jane jogged along as tears burned in her eyes. She knew she should stop. She knew she couldn't keep running. She knew that at some point, she needed to face this. But how? How could she? When she'd denied herself so many things to keep this lie going. When she'd faked so many relationships, so many truths, when she'd sacrificed so much just to keep up appearances. How could she suddenly let that go and tell everyone what she'd done? She'd be ridiculed. She'd be a laughing stock. She'd be hurled I told you sos and I knew its and she is dyke cop.
But it was the truth. She was. She was a- a dyke cop.
And with that, the whimper that Jane had so carefully kept clamped down finally escaped. She collapsed against a tree in a secluded part of the park, falling to her knees, curling down into herself, and sobbed.