A/N: First off, I want to give a humongous shout out to jdstrivesformaybe for being my beta! I'm a neurotic mess of a writer and made her read several versions and she did so without complaint! She's awesome and made my writing so so much better (and she's a really great friend!), I really can't thank her enough. (All final mistakes are mine however because I'm always editing something.)
This story started out as a different story, but after the first few chapters I realized it wasn't going to work for that story, at all. And I didn't want to just leave it in my files either, so I did some editing and this was born. The title is a song from Darius Rucker, it's a favorite of mine.
Also I refuse to acknowledge some bits of cannon, particularly the later seasons, so in a way it's a little non-canonical.
All chapters are posted.
Happy reading!
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. No money involved. ETC. ETC.
Chapter One
The gym door echoes loudly as it slams shut behind Jane. The room is completely empty – unsurprising, given that it is after hours on a Friday night. It gives her a moment of peace, a moment to breathe. She throws her small bag inside one of the cubbies near the water fountains, and walks towards the treadmills. She exhales slowly, forcing the tension from her shoulders. The machine comes to life with a press of a button and she starts walking.
Her pace is slow at first, working out the stiffness in her muscles and bones. Her body gradually adjusting to the change from sitting in her desk chair all day. Soon, she works her way to a faster tempo until she's beating a steady rhythm against the runway.
Running is not her favorite exercise. It's something she's always had to force herself to do. Her mind is too chaotic, too wayward to stand an activity that requires minimal thinking.
Even now, her mind is being pulled into several different directions at once and she finds herself increasing the pace. If she can just go harder, faster, longer then maybe she can find that happy place where nothing matters except putting one foot in front of the other.
It doesn't work.
She's always thought that things were supposed to come together as she grew older, that things were supposed to start making sense. In her world, the opposite seems to keep happening. Every year feels like a milestone year, but backwards. In place of celebrations, she's constantly mourning. There are so many chapters in her life that she's seen end too quickly, so many moments that were supposed to be big and full and bright and happy...but end up being nothing but the opposite.
And the more and more it happens the less she wants to keep starting over.
Some nights, that thought alone is enough to make her wonder where a different path would have lead her. What would it be like to come home to something other than stale air and darkness? Would she even like it? That question gives her pause.
After the experience with Casey she isn't so sure. Sharing her space with another person, even if only temporarily, requires a certain level of intimacy she's not sure she can ever achieve.
Droplets of sweat roll down Jane's neck and through the V of her shirt. She wipes a hand across her forehead with a huff.
It's not that she's unhappy with her life. Her job and her family have always – and will always – come first. She can't imagine living away from them, away from Boston. But she can't deny that sometimes the existence she leads is an incredibly lonely one. That loneliness clings to her like a second skin. It makes her ache for something. For someone...
And every time she goes there, every time her mind and body want for someone, an image appears in her mind: honey colored hair, soft hazel-green eyes, dimples and a kind smile.
Love is a strange thing. The lines that divide between friendship and romance are even stranger. Falling for Maura wasn't something Jane had intended to happen. It was slow, effortless in the way it got under her skin, and curled around her heart. It never made its presence known - and it was so easy to misconstrue the signs, to miss them completely.
And on nights like these, Maura is the person she wants to curl up next to, the person she wants to lay down with breast to breast, heartbeat to heartbeat. She can imagine nothing more than burying her nose in the crook of Maura's neck and staying there, breathing her in, all night long.
A pang having nothing to do with her brutal pace travels up her spine. The feeling catches her off guard. She stumbles over her feet, falling into the bar in front of her before righting herself. She takes a deep breath, shaking her head and wiping the sweat from her eyes before smashing the up arrow a few more times.
She wishes she were different, that falling in love with people were as easy for her as it seems to be for everyone else. She wants to forget about thinking about her best friend that way. And to hammer home the thought that she can never have Maura the way she truly wants - Maura is on a date.
That fact sits low in her chest bothering her in a way that she's grown accustomed to.
Logically, Jane knows that there's no point in doing the kind of work they do if they can't live normal, fun lives in their off hours. Maura is allowed to date, allowed to have other friends, other obligations. It's not Maura's fault that Jane doesn't know what to do with herself when Maura ventures away from her. Jane knows it's stupid and unfair to be upset – jealous – at Maura for living her life and enjoying her time off. It's wrong, but the slight agitation still creeps up her neck and sits, simmering.
It's getting worse.
That feeling in her chest, in her bones, in her head - it's getting worse.
That's the only way she knows how to describe it. She doesn't know how to explain - much less deal with - the tumultuous feelings swirling inside her.
She never has.
She normally stomps and grunts her feelings into submission. But when the person causing them is not a fellow cop, an estranged boyfriend, her mother, or one of her brothers – when it's the one person who can find her when all she wants to do is get lost – she doesn't know how to proceed.
She slams the stop button on the treadmill and nearly falls over. She bends at the waist, chest heaving, forehead resting against the bar in front of her. Sweat drips off her nose and lands on the tarmac under her feet.
Her chest hurts, as the realization that she can no longer ignore her feelings, hits her - dead on.
…
Maura sits in her office, pencil idly tapping against the notepad in front of her. In her bedroom there's a dress hanging from the hook of her closet door, matching heels are set aside, and her favorite perfume is sitting on her vanity waiting to be used. She should be at home, getting ready for a date. She glances at her watch. Had she not called him earlier in the day to cancel, she would be walking into the restaurant within the hour. There would be small talk and hesitant smiles. It's not an appealing image or thought.
Agreeing to go on the date in the first place had been a moment of weakness. Their meeting was a chance happening during a coffee run in the middle of a busy week. He had a nice smile, kind eyes, and she thought the way he fumbled over his words so nervously was adorable. The week hadn't been going well. The call for a new case woke her in the wee hours of the morning and a second came only three days later. Juggling two new cases along with the handful of older cases was a tall order. Jane and Frankie were running into one cold lead after another. Jane's presence in the morgue or her office was constant – demanding evidence, lab tests, results, bouncing ideas and theories off her – anything and everything that could help solve the cases. And more than once Jane had stormed off in a huff when Maura gave her the same answers she'd been giving her because there was simply nothing new.
So, when this stranger in line turned toward her and started up a conversation it was so easy to be swept away, to get lost in his dark eyes and lopsided smile. It was nice to feel appreciated, listened to. When he asked her out for dinner the yes fell out of her mouth before her brain could catch up. But even as they exchanged phone numbers she had felt something akin to dread begin to settle low in her belly. That feeling only intensified when she arrived back at her desk to find a short apology note, a flower, and a small bag of chocolates.
An involuntary smile curls her lips as she looks at the flower still standing in a graduated cylinder on her desk. It's such a Jane thing to do.
Maura leans back into her chair and eyes the ceiling. Everything seems to always revert back to Jane in some way or another. It's both a blessing and a curse.
They are so opposite it's amazing that they've made it this far as friends. Best friends. And Maura feels something, as she always does, pull at her heart because there's something else. It's the reason she didn't go on her date tonight, not because of an extensive workload as she claimed. Though, her workload is extensive, so it wasn't a lie, just a little bend. The truth is, she doesn't want to sit in front of a stranger at a restaurant and play the get to know each other game ending with a slightly awkward first kiss. Instead, she wants to sit in her living room in comfy pajamas laughing with her best friend, and when the mood calls for it, leaning across the cushions for a soft kiss. She wants to wake up surrounded by lavender and coffee and Jane.
She has no idea when the thought of her and Jane cemented itself in her brain. She doesn't even know for sure when she started to view Jane as something other than friend. She has spent countless nights in bed staring at her ceiling analyzing her feelings to no avail. The scientist in her is bothered by this, the lovesick woman - not so much. Because why does the how matter when the is feels so much more important? She doesn't like how reckless that makes her feel.
She thought she could trick her brain into wanting someone else, that eventually the faking wouldn't be necessary and her feelings for Jane would all but fade into the background as a non-event. Clearly, that isn't the case. What this means for their future she has no idea, only that she's grown past wanting to try with other people.
There are moments where she thinks Jane feels the same way. Moments when she catches Jane looking at her in such a way it makes butterflies explode inside her. The things Jane says and the things she does – the small touches and soft voice only reserved for her, the gentle teasing and corny jokes – these signs point to a mutual pining, Maura knows. But, Jane is nothing short of contradictions. Open and honest with her one moment - cold and distant in the next.
For every step forward, they end up two steps back the next day. She doesn't know how to play this role anymore. She's tired of constantly feeling out of place, of wanting to reach out and soothe when Jane is nothing but caution tape braided with barbed wire, and not knowing if doing so would be welcomed or thought of as overreaching.
The simplest solution is to speak, something that has never been a problem before, so it's a wonder why it's causing her so much grief now. It's not for lack of knowing what she wants to say - those words often stay buried until a crisis happens. But lately, the words themselves have become the crisis. It's what she thinks about before her eyes drift shut to sleep, it's what she thinks about when there's a lull in her work day. Those feelings – her love – is no longer relegated to dark and lonely nights, or the aftermath of adrenaline fueled moments.
There are a mountain of words that come to mind when she thinks of the speech she's too afraid to say. They mostly start with I love you and end with please don't go because no matter what version of the story she crafts in her mind, Jane is forever destined to leave her at the end.
She knows she's being overly dramatic. But their relationship is one built in dramatics, in haste moments, in jokes to cover the trauma. There is no rule book here. No code. Just feelings. And Maura has never been good with feelings.
With a resigned sigh, Maura pushes her chair back away from her desk. There is no reason to stay in her office for any longer. At least at home, she can wallow in her thoughts in comfortable clothes with a glass of wine. She gathers her bag together, and heads for the elevator.
The lobby is quiet, the lights to The Division One Café are off, and the only other person around is the night shift desk officer. He gives her a nod and a smile over his paper coffee cup. "Have a good night, Dr. Isles."
"Thank you, and yourself as well, Terrance." Maura replies with a smile of her own. As she walks to her car, she notices Jane's still parked next to hers. She furrows her eyebrows, before turning back towards the building.
Terrance looks up, surprise on his face. "You forget something, Doc?"
"Have you seen Detective Rizzoli? Her car is still outside, I was wondering if she's still here."
"Haven't seen her leave. Have you checked the gym?"
…
Jane is in her own world. She throws punch after punch against the swinging heavy bag in front of her. This – pounding her frustrations against the leather – is her favorite gym activity. Her ponytail swings in all directions as she grits her teeth and shuffles her feet. She's so focused on the task at hand, she doesn't hear the door open and close, doesn't notice anyone else in the room until –
"Jane…?"
Jane looks up and she is suddenly caught in Maura's gaze – all hazel-green and warm. She has to remind herself to breathe.
"What are you doing here?" The words are laced with an aggression she can't tame. She instantly flinches upon hearing her own voice. No matter how many times she tells herself it's not okay for her to act this way towards Maura, she still manages to do so.
Maura arches an eyebrow. Reflexively, she takes a step backwards. Waves of tension radiate from Jane's sweat covered body. It's not the first time she's seen that hard look in Jane's eyes. Only this time, she doesn't know why. And Maura has that notion again – the wanting to reach out, the wanting to wrap this woman up in her arms and make the hurt disappear. It's maddening. She doesn't know how to answer Jane's question. How was she to explain that she saw Jane's car, and felt a pull to find her?
"I wanted to see you."
"Why?" Jane snorts, turning back to the heavy bag, "need help picking out an outfit for your date?" Her next punch rattles the chains holding the bag in place.
Maura takes a step forward. "There is no date," she hisses. Jane, on her part, looks at least a little chagrined. Her hands fall limply to her sides, her expression falls. Jane looks so tired all of a sudden, it takes a fraction of the wind from Maura's sails. "I'm so sick of this." Maura sighs.
"What are you talking about?"
"This. All of this." Maura gestures at the space between them. "How long are we going to keep pretending that nothing is happening here?"
"Nothing is happening here."
Anger races up Maura's spine so suddenly it takes her a moment to place what it is. And despite that this conversation was the last thing she thought would be happening when she opened the door, she wants nothing more than to take this as far as she can. Consequences be damned.
"Maybe that lie works for you, Jane, but it doesn't work for me. Not anymore." Maura watches unfamiliar fear race across dark brown eyes, she softens her voice. "It always comes back to this – to us. And I'm tired, Jane, I'm tired of not accepting what that means."
Jane stands frozen. Maura is staring at her – eyes big and wide and honest. It messes with her insides. And she can't breathe, can't think.
"If you're not there yet, I understand." It's the second lie Maura has told tonight and she tries to ignore the way her chest feels tight and uncomfortable.
As Maura turns away from her, eyes steely and hard, something catches in Jane's chest and doesn't let go.
Suddenly, holding back, holding in, holding off is no longer an option.
"Wait." Jane's voice cracks on the single syllable. "There is… Something has happened between us."
Maura turns back to face her. "Don't just say that because –"
"It's the truth!" Jane interrupts, her eyes searching Maura's earnestly. "I just, God, I thought this was one-sided, that I was alone in this."
"You're not, Jane, you're not."
It's silent for a moment.
"So you…?" The question fades with uncertainty.
Maura smiles softly. She fingers the strap of her bag. "Yes."
Jane breathes heavily, shoulders relaxing. "So, what happens now?"
Maura laughs. The sound shatters the tension that has built up in the room. There are so many things she wants to do in this moment. She doesn't know where to start. "Your guess is as good as mine."
Jane finds herself smiling at Maura's laugh. The air feels different all of a sudden, or maybe that's just her. Everything that has been holding her back is now broken and she doesn't know what to do with this newfound freedom. She can't help but fall back on what she knows – teasing, only this time with a face splitting grin. "Oh, you mean you've never done this before?"
Maura quirks an eyebrow. The warm coffee colored eyes staring back at her are clear and adoring. This isn't at all how she thought her night would end, but she is so unbelievably happy that it has. "Falling in love with my best friend? No, I've never had a best friend before, remember?" The confession causes a small tremor in her fingertips but her heart settles as Jane's grin grows impossibly wider.
"You'd tell me if you were a cyborg, right?"
"No, I don't think I would."
Their shared laughter reaches the light fixtures. Jane is sure that Terrance and the other night shift personnel can hear them all the way out to the front desk and beyond the halls, and she doesn't care. Suddenly, a sense of wonder and awe rushes through her. So much so, that she's afraid her knees might give way.
Maura loves her. Never in her wildest dreams did she think they would ever be here, and certainly not tonight.
"Jane?"
Jane looks up into concerned hazel eyes – and she knows right then that she will never get tired of the swirl of dark browns and deep greens with flecks of gold. She has a sudden urge to grab this woman in a bear hug and spin around in circles because finally and yes and thank God. Instead, she just smiles – wild and hopeful.
"Come on." Jane says as she tugs at the strap of Maura's bag, dragging her with her. She picks up her own gym bag as Maura steadies herself. "You know, this isn't going to be easy. I can be a handful."
"You don't say."
Jane's jaw drops dramatically, she bumps Maura's shoulder. "I don't think I like your sarcasm, Doctor."
"You love it."
"I love you."
Jane feels warm all over. They haven't had this easy camaraderie in so long, she'd forgotten what it felt like.
Maura looks at the ground suddenly bashful, but the small smile is there.
They walk out of the precinct, after saying their goodbye's to Terrence. Once they arrive at their cars, Jane faces Maura. "So…"
"So…" Maura repeats.
"So does this," Jane clears her throat, "I guess this means that we're…dating?" She hesitates before the last word. It feels strange, rolling off her tongue, like even her mouth can't believe it.
"Yes."
"Girlfriends?"
Maura smiles shakily, "mmhmm."
"I-I don't want our friendship to change. Is that," Jane glances shyly at Maura, she kicks a loose rock with her foot, "is that bad?"
Maura puts a soothing hand on Jane's bicep. "It's not bad at all. I don't want that either." Her thumb strokes softly side to side against Jane's warm skin. "This does mean we'll have to start talking to each other, you know? Really talking. Otherwise, we may as well quit while we're ahead."
Jane meets her gaze head on. "I'm not the only one who's bad at that."
"I know," Maura drops her hand back to her side, "I'll make more of a concentrated effort to be a better communicator."
Jane nods, swallowing hard. "Me too."
Maura smiles, "good." They stand there for a few more minutes, neither knowing how to say goodbye, until a big yawn gets the better of Jane and leaves her blinking rapidly. Maura reaches across the space between them again and squeezes Jane's arm. "Go home, Jane. Get some rest. It's been a long week - for both of us."
"But – "
"This will all be here tomorrow."
"Promise?"
The vulnerability interwoven into that one word makes Maura's breath catch momentarily in her throat. She steps forward, closing the small distance between them. She wraps her arms around Jane in a tight hug and is relieved when Jane's arms move around her own body holding her just as tightly.
"I promise."