I don't own Rizzoli and Isles, though I do enjoy playing with them.
Their relationship progressed slowly, even by Maura's cautious standards. Two steps forward and one step back, except that Jane's last retreat was nearly a reversal.
Maura understood. Having her heart broken once was more than sufficient for a lifetime. She hadn't offered it since. Until now. It was still on the table, metaphorically speaking, waiting for Jane to receive it. Maura was certain, in the way she hadn't been certain about anything since choosing forensic pathology as her course of study, that Jane would see and understand what Maura proffered, and ultimately accept it.
Ultimately, though, was a bitch in the middle of the night when dreams she never used to have interrupted the restful sleep required by her routine. Ultimately didn't help in the least when all she wanted was to feel the other woman's warmth nearby and be soothed by callused hands that remained a little rough no matter how much moisturizer was applied. Ultimately was far beyond uncomfortable when the dreams were of things that had happened to Jane and might happen again, as opposed to things that happened to Maura and were statistically unlikely to recur.
So Maura broke her routine. Instead of staying in her cool, dark room, she sat up. Turned on the light. Retrieved the volume - in French, of course - of Remembrance of Things Past that she'd been slowly re-reading for the past month. Steadfastly refused to dial the phone number that could ease her own discomfort because of its possible effect on the owner of that number.
After a few minutes, she set the book aside with a sigh. Re-reading the same few lines over and over was of no benefit. Perhaps chamomile tea would help. She had her feet in slippers when her phone played a familiar tone.
"Are you all right?" she asked, disregarding manners.
"Can't sleep," Jane growled back. "Why are you up?"
"I can't sleep, either."
"Bad dreams?"
"Yes. You?"
"Uh huh."
"Do you want to come over?"
"Nah, I just want you to cut off the alarm, open the front door, and let me in."
"Of course." Maura rose, and donned her robe on the way out of her bedroom. New habits held steady even while Jane complained in her ear about the cold. Maura turned on lights and checked both the security camera feed and the peephole before disarming the alarm system, disengaging the locks, and opening the door. Jane hurried in, simultaneously disconnecting the call and continuing her complaints about the temperature. Maura ended the call on her phone and slipped it into a pocket before securing them inside again.
"Where's Bass?" Jane asked before Maura finished.
"I'm not sure. Probably in the guest room."
"My room," Jane corrected.
Maura smiled ever so slightly before agreeing. "Is that a problem?"
"I don't think so. I don't know." Jane dropped her gaze to the floor in an attempt to obliterate the thoughts that Maura's lovely sleepwear inspired.
Maura frowned as she looked down at her outfit, wondering what inspired the sudden shift in Jane's demeanor. She shrugged, turned out the porch and foyer lights, and took a few steps closer to Jane. Maura put her hand out. "Coat."
Jane unbuttoned her peacoat without looking up and shrugged it off, catching it en route to the floor. "I got it," she told Maura, and slid behind her to hang it in the closet. She turned to find Maura waiting, and smiled tightly at her.
"Let's try to get some sleep," Maura suggested, and started for her room, confident that Jane would follow.
She did, of course, hesitating at the door to Maura's room. "The guest room," she began.
"Just come to bed, Jane," Maura said patiently. She removed her robe and draped it on the bed before sliding between the sheets. The lamp was still on.
The chill that lingered from outside hurried Jane into the bed. She shivered at the coolness of the sheets, but they warmed quickly.
"Do you want me to leave the light on?"
"No," she answered quickly.
Maura switched it off and moved into a comfortable position. "Good night, Jane."
"'Night, Maura."
They were quiet for several minutes, knowing the other was awake.
"Him again?" Maura asked.
"Maybe the light should stay on."
That reply confirmed Maura's suspicions, so she reached out and turned the lamp on its lowest setting. She didn't mind if it stayed on; although it wouldn't prevent any further nightmares, it helped her wake completely when she opened her eyes.
"I'm tired of being afraid," Jane said softly, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Maura, who lived daily with her own litany of fears, said nothing at first. She studied Jane's face for a few moments, seeing through the fixed neutrality. "You don't always have to be brave."
"You make it sound easy."
"We both know it isn't. But you're allowed to be human, instead of always superhuman. You're allowed to make mistakes. You're allowed to let someone else be brave for you sometimes."
"Like you?"
"Like me," Maura agreed. Jane's hand on her thigh, where it landed when it didn't immediately find Maura's, was warm and distracting through her silk pajamas. Maura covered it gently, always aware that Jane's hands were sometimes overly sensitive.
"Who's brave for you?" Jane turned her head and met Maura's eyes for the first time.
"You." Maura held her gaze and restrained herself from kissing Jane.
Emotions cascaded over Jane's face too fast for Maura to read all of them.
"Can you be brave for me tonight?" The question was just above a whisper.
"Yes," Maura husked back, and turned onto her side as slid next to Jane. She impulsively ran her fingers through Jane's dark hair, her thumb brushing over the curve of her ear, and smiled at Jane's obvious physical reaction. Maura set her elbow and leaned closer. She hesitated, watching Jane's nonverbal cues, before leaning close and gently kissing her. In the heartbeats before Jane responded, Maura worried that she misinterpreted something.
That fear scurried away when Jane's hand left her thigh and moved around her waist. Jane's other hand raised, and her fingers glided along Maura's cheek and into her hair.
After a time - neither knew how long, or particularly cared - the kisses reached a natural pause. Maura lowered her head to Jane's shoulder, and her hand slid down Jane's arm to her waist. "Sleep," she instructed gently, and didn't suppress her yawn.
Jane thought it would be impossible to sleep after the best kiss she'd ever experienced, but the complete familiarity of Maura's warmth overrode her wonder at all the things she thought should freak her out but didn't. When she was certain Jane was asleep, Maura allowed herself to drift away without worrying about any of the things the morning might bring.
-30-