Natural Progression
Extending the intimacy to the one-shot, "And Then She Knew". Riddled with residual restlessness, Maura sneaks into the guest bedroom to watch Jane sleep. It didn't surprise her that the shift from being best friends to more was fluid and effortless, a seamless, natural progression of an already extraordinary relationship.
Marking this as complete for now. Once I figure out how I want the scene with Angela (and the rest) to play out, I will add to this. Should I get inspired as well, I may write more stories set in this universe.
Don't own anything … except for the mistakes. As with the prior one-shot, I beg for tolerance and kindness when reading this piece. Please forgive flow, characterization and any repetitive words. Lastly (don't laugh), certain letters on my keypad are acting up, and I have to pound on them to get them work, so please note there are bound to be spelling errors and an odd word here and there because of a missing letter.
Sleep eluded her.
Rolling her head to the left, she eyed the empty space beside her. The stark absence of the presence of a warm body next to her bothered her immensely, which was an odd sensation to experience. All her life, save for the nights she's spent in the arms of past lovers, she's never shared her bed with anyone on a regular basis.
In fact, sleeping, in the strictest sense of the word, with a lover for more than two consecutive evenings left her unsettled and disconcerted, an intrusion instead of companionship.
She's grown accustomed to being alone. Learned to deal with the loneliness.
Even with the entrance of Jane into her life, with the eventual emotional involvement and all other close relationships she's formed that came with being the detective's best friend, the familiar comfort she's derived from solitude throughout her existence was never threatened. Though the friendship and connection between them often times crossed lines and invaded personal space, sometimes more than what was permissible and acceptable for best friends, no matter how close, they had established boundaries and limits to their relationship that neither would dare breach. Which is why it works, she supposes. No matter how intertwined and intricate, how reliant they've become on one another for emotional health and slash or the contentment of an established daily routine, their individuality remained distinct and defined, amid the joint entity of their friendship. Jane and Maura instead of JaneandMaura. Separate individuals flourishing because and in spite of the personas they lend to the marriage of their beings they call friendship.
Through the course of their friendship, they have admittedly taken a lot of liberties, and with such a deep closeness, certain actions or situations have become customary to the point of becoming habitual and expected, such as walking into her home unannounced (though sometimes the brunette follows convention and uses the doorbell or knocks) and anticipating a couple of nights a week in each other's company. The depth of how much they know each other gives rise to a security she's never experienced with another human being, their ability to read one another accommodating her inability to voice her needs and wants, and provides her with the unique advantage and pleasure of being able to anticipate and satisfy her friend's needs as well.
Despite the crossed lines and lack of reservations, the intimacy and over-familiarity, the candor and laxity, the degree of closeness she shares with Jane was never overwhelming or frightening to her habituated solitude. Because amid the reciprocated deep affection, protectiveness (often overzealous on Jane's part), and compassion existed an implacable mutual respect for one another, a certain level of trust and reverence that protected and safe-guarded against any sense of violation or encroachment of personal boundaries.
It was this very foundation of their friendship, the cornerstone, entrenched as the core, which prevents her from even considering Jane as a threat. Whereas most, if not all, displays of affection from other people cover her in uneasiness, and expressed interest in her life would automatically trigger the erection of barriers, she finds that the female detective had found a way around her defences, gently (and sometimes not so gently) skirting and maneuvering around the walls she's hidden behind for decades. She welcomes it from Jane, in fact.
Feeling a discomfort at the small of her back from being in the same position for an extended period of time, she rolled to her side, the emptiness beside her becoming more prominent and aggravating.
After their tempered kiss earlier, which marked the shift in the dynamics of their relationship and signified Jane's willingness to take that step with her, the brunette had allowed for a few minutes of gratifying physical affection, granting Maura the comfort of burrowing into her warmth. By unspoken agreement, they were content to postpone further conversation. Reluctantly admitting that she was exhausted, Jane had the unfortunate burden of interrupting the blissful moment of deeper intimacy that had reigned the past few minutes.
With seemingly practiced ease, they had disentangled themselves from the embrace, helping each other rise from the couch. Routine firmly in place, borne from many evenings spent together, they absently went about restoring order into the living room and ensuring that the dining area and kitchen bore no evidence of the impromptu meal they had in celebration of Jane's rescue from her ordeal.
Satisfied with the results of their chore, both women had turned toward the passage to the hallway that led upstairs. Jane, her posture sagging with the weight of tiredness and weariness, stood at the doorframe, using the last of her energy to extend her arm toward an approaching Maura, scarred palm face up in invitation. The only difference in this established ritual observed when the detective spends the night … a hint of the shift in the paradigm of their relationship.
An appreciated silent acknowledgement of 'more'.
And as she had placed her hand in Jane's, the long fingers immediately wrapping around hers in a firm grip, she did feel the undeclared promise of being 'more than just friends … more than just colleagues'. The gleam of affection in dark browns eyes, though slightly dulled by exhaustion, reflected the usual fondness and reverence, but the blonde detected the added spark of unconcealed awareness in the tender gaze. She had smiled her appreciation as they quietly walked through the doorframe.
The brunette had stopped their progress and released her hand when they had arrived at the door to the guest room. She had turned toward her, that gleam of affection in chocolate orbs intensifying as she braced her face and leaned down to press their lips together. Brief though it were, it verbalized a wealth of emotion the detective couldn't quite articulate yet. Maura stole a few moments' worth of being enveloped in an impassioned embrace, before parting from each other amid murmured goodnights and sleep wells.
She will admit to feeling a slight twinge of disappointment for their sleeping arrangements, but basking in the assurance of the unspoken promise expressed earlier, she did not demur staying in separate rooms. Sleepovers were not unusual; it wasn't exactly habitual but they've happened more often to be considered a seldom occurence. Except for a handful of times here at home, and of course the nights spent at Jane's place where there was only one bed, they rarely slept together, the detective always retiring in the guest bedroom.
Also, she had sensed the brunette's need to be alone, to be allowed to process the day's events without an audience, even if it were Maura. So it was with tranquility and calm that she had carried out her nightly ablution and climbed into bed.
Now, however, with only her thoughts for company for the past two hours, she was fraught with uneasiness and edginess, perhaps the residual restlessness she couldn't completely shake, expected ill-effects of the explosion of emotions she'd experienced today, or rather the previous day.
Maura reached a hand out toward the empty space, her palm and fingers gliding smoothly on luxuriously soft sheets. She wonders if Jane would resent an intrusion to the solitude her bedroom accorded her. She wasn't intending to stay, she reasoned; she just really needed a peek of Jane one more time to settle her nerves and stem her restlessness. A glimpse, perhaps a really long one, was all she needed, really.
Justification deemed acceptable by her strict moral compass, she rose from her bed.
She quietly slipped into the mostly-darkened room, noting the illumination filtering through the opened adjoining bathroom door, casting a glow on the sleeping figure. Nightlight on, or what the detective had used as one tonight to keep the monsters at bay. A fleeting sense of regret for not insisting on keeping vigil over the brunette passed through her.
She padded towards the bed, her earlier agitation already melting away as she neared the reason for her sneaking around. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she got a clearer view of her beloved friend's features, dark curls splayed on the pillow nestling her head. A tightness soon replaced the flutter as observed eyebrows furrowed in sleep, the tall woman looking diminutive curled in the fetal position, clasped hands tucked under her left cheek, lying perilously close to the edge of the bed.
It took every ounce of her willpower to keep from coming any closer and reaching out to touch, restraining herself from crawling into the bed beside the slumbering woman. She had to content herself with the bargained glimpse.
"Didn't your fancy boarding school teach you that standing around and watching someone sleep is creepy," the brunette broke into the silent surveillance, voice laden with sleep, bleary eyes wrestling to stay opened.
A smile crept into the doctor's face, the hint of humor she detected in the reprimand allowing her to relax. The smile broadened as she saw Jane roll over on to her back and extend an arm out to her.
She took the few steps necessary to bridge the distance, unmatched happiness coursing through her veins. She took the offered hand and gently lowered herself onto the mattress, not wanting to jostle its occupant.
"I was just checking on you," she pled her case, squeezing the hand she held. "I wanted to make sure you were able to sleep comfortably."
"Uh-huh," the detective responded with an indulgent smirk, dark brown eyes intently perusing the other woman's torso. "And you thought you'd do your spying at …," she lifted her head a fraction and averted her gaze to the clock, "one forty-seven in the morning, dressed, or rather, barely dressed in that … thing." She didn't have enough functioning brain cells to identify the proper term for the blonde's article of clothing.
Because she could – was now permitted to – Maura lessened the distance even more by shifting closer, pulling the brunette's hand on to her lap, ever mindful of the bandage, and carefully planted her own hand on Jane's abdomen. Not fully satisfied, she leaned forward until the scent of Jane, combined with the fragrance of the soaps and lotions she's provided in the guest bathroom, invaded her senses, surrounding her in comfort.
"I always wear this and similar nightgowns to bed; you know that," she reproached with a grin. "This isn't the first time you've seen me dressed like this."
"Well, yeah, but now I'm allowed to have impure thoughts about you," she replied with a lopsided grin, tightening her grip before releasing the blonde's hand and turning hers over, without dislodging Maura's, and planted it on the other woman's left knee, her fingers coming alive at the contact with bare skin.
"You've seen me in far less, Jane," the ME stated with a laugh. She's come to the conclusion that she adores this facet of her best friend.
"Again, that was back when I had impressive control when it came to you," she countered. "Lost all of it the moment you kissed me."
"I could go and retrieve my robe, if you prefer," she offered teasingly, her left hand, sorely missing out on potential pleasurable opportunities, began its subtle, unobtrusive exploration of the landscape of muscle and flesh beneath it.
"Oh, I'm not complaining," the brunette declared. "Merely questioning your motives, Dr. Isles," she added with a smirk, her eyebrow arched.
"I assure you, Jane; I had no such impure intentions when I decided to come here."
Hazel eyes were drawn to her friend's mouth as Jane began nibbling on her lower lip, the unintentional sensual movement highly mesmerizing. Her fixation was disrupted when the other woman began to speak.
"I'm allowed to have impure thoughts about you now, aren't I," the detective asked hesitantly, shyly, her face scrunched as though she didn't want to hear the reply.
The blonde collapsed into a fit of giggles.
"You can have as many impure thoughts about me as you wish," she granted laughingly, patting the hand resting lightly on her thigh.
"Oh, goody, coz those …," Jane expressed, gesturing with her free hand to the other woman's ample bosom, the suggestive, playful leer causing a faint blush to erupt on the doctor's face. "And that nightgown leaves nothing to the imagination."
"Don't worry, Jane. I have several other articles of clothing that would entice and keep your imagination busy," she assured flirtatiously. She perused the brunette's face, and behind the glimmer of teasing and enjoyment hid the tiredness a couple of hours of sleep hadn't alleviated.
Maura closed the gap between them, shifting to hover over the prone woman, gently pressing their foreheads together. She planted her left hand close to Jane's head to support her weight, her bent leg on the bed perpetuating her efforts, her senses and nerve endings dancing when she felt the detective's hand unwittingly brush against her inner thigh during its journey up her side, to settle comfortingly on the small of her back, completing the embrace.
Unadulterated bliss.
This was what she had come for when she sought Jane out. This feeling of belonging. The contentment of just being with her.
She brushed the side of her nose against Jane's, the intimacy behind the affection soothing her soul.
She pulled back a few inches, catching the other woman's eyes. She flashed a tender smile as she cupped the brunette's cheek.
"I'm sorry to have woken you," she spoke softly. "I just wanted to make sure you were resting comfortably. I'll see you in the morning."
As she was about to lower herself to brush her lips against Jane's, the detective lifted her hand to cradle her face, worry clearly evident in brown eyes.
"Couldn't sleep," she questioned concernedly, her gaze studying her closely.
"I'm fine, Jane," she answered, not meeting her eyes.
"Maur," Jane prodded, pulling the other woman down onto her.
The doctor didn't put up any resistance against the unspoken command, settling atop her best friend, limbs realigning into a perfect fit, welcoming the contact. She folded her arm, elbow digging into the mattress, and rested her head on her palm so they could look at each other.
"I was just a little restless," she admitted with a tiny shrug, the pointer finger of her left hand drawing indiscriminate shapes on the chest beneath her.
"Dominic or about us," she queried.
"A little bit of both, I suppose," she replied with a sigh.
The detective mirrored the action.
"We don't have to do this, Maur," she uttered with a faint tremor, her heart screaming in protest.
"Do you want to be with me," the ME inquired, laying her palm over the furious beating underneath.
"More than anything," she asserted unwaveringly, her fingers lightly digging into the flesh they grasped to bolster her statement.
"Are you willing to do this, Jane," she offered an escape, the other woman's initial reluctance to breach the friendship weighing heavily in her mind. "We're not going to work if you have reservations about us."
"I'm not the one sneaking around at two in the morning, watching someone sleep," Jane argued, playing with the tips of blond hair. "If you didn't come to … seduce me," she added teasingly, "as you so adamantly insist, even though your choice of attire says otherwise, I gather it's something to do with us, and what I did or didn't do. Are you thinking that I'm not in this?"
"We'd hardly be in such an intimate position," she pointed out sultrily, granting her senses a few seconds to relish the delicious pressure of Jane's thigh against the juncture of her legs, which she had studiously been trying to pay no heed to for the past few minutes, "if you weren't amenable to redefining the parameters of our relationship, especially considering that I could feel your palm graze my breast every few seconds," she affixed with a teasing grin.
She laughed softly, her eyes gleaming with amusement, as she watched color suffuse Jane's face, the hand lazily running along the left side of her torso ever since she had pulled her to lie atop her stilling instantly.
The detective cleared her throat and issued a raspy, sheepish, "right."
Giggling, the physician leaned in to plant a brief – a very brief, in both their opinions – chaste kiss on the other woman's lips, hazel pools glinting with humor as she drew back.
"I take it that 'look but don't touch' is no longer applicable," she commented, unable to resist piling on, her enjoyment rising steadily as the brunette flushed a deeper shade of red.
It was so easy to get a rise out of her friend when matters pertaining to sex are brought up, perhaps more so now that they're exploring and adding the romantic aspect to their existing friendship.
"Oh, and I've seen you looking, Jane Rizzoli," she further goaded with mischief, playfully batting her eyes and swaying her shoulders, albeit restrainedly, calling attention to the gentle bounce of barely-concealed mounds of flesh, earning her a disgruntled groan.
Rolling her eyes in mock annoyance at the apparent teasing, she reprimanded with a huff, "Well, you don't exactly play fair, Dr. Isles."
"I never said I play fair, Jane," the blonde bantered with unabashed mirth.
"Okay, so if that isn't what's troubling you," she spoke, concern creeping back into dark brown eyes, veering the conversation back to its previous somber mood. Resuming the light exploration of soft curves, her right hand glorying in the warmth seeping through the thin material, she continued, "What thoughts are rattling around in that massive brain of yours that are keeping you from sleep?"
Maura expelled a soft sigh, bearing down and letting the brunette carry more of her weight. She draped her folded right arm across the lithe frame and planted her chin atop her tiny wrist, leaving her left arm free to roam.
Timidly, she maintained eye contact and then sheepishly, quietly professed, "You'll think it's silly."
"Maur," she urged with a tone of admonishment, lifting her left hand to brush golden locks away from said reprimanded woman's face.
"I guess my impatience was making me restless," she revealed with a small smile. Noting the puzzlement in chocolate orbs, the pads of her left hand's fingers more boldly gliding along the smooth canvas of the detective's bare arm, she expanded, "From the moment we discovered you missing, and more particularly the second we discovered the real situation behind your disappearance, I've had this incredible, deep-seated need to touch you, to hold you. Seeing you bound, watching helplessly as he touched you and threatened you, I was bombarded with staggeringly intense emotions my mind and body have not previously dealt with prior to yesterday."
"I'm sorry, Maur," she rasped, a tightness in her chest causing her voice to break.
The doctor waved off the apology, continuing, "I felt immensely helpless and powerless to protect you from that monster. All I could think of was wanting to hold you, to feel you against me. It was like an itch I couldn't scratch."
She leaned into the palm that cupped her cheek, grounding her against the resurfacing agitation her confession had brought forth.
"And when you were taken to me, finally seeing you in the flesh, well …," she paused, gathering her thoughts. "I hadn't yet had time, or the mental and emotional coherence, to process the onslaught of unaccustomed emotions, plus of course given the constraints of what is considered acceptable behavior between friends, I felt restricted in conveying that desire to touch. With Frankie standing guard, it stifled my inclinations further. I suppose you could say that I didn't have a viable outlet to express the protectiveness you inspired in me, nor the competence to effectively channel the affection I was feeling toward you."
She was aware she was rambling but her thoughts were coming rather quickly, and she needed to get them out. Her apprehension abated when she saw Jane nod, gesturing for her to continue.
"Once I had figured out the relevance of my inexplicably intense reaction to you being in such a threatening situation, and comprehending the depth of your feelings for me, I finally had an opportunity and the means to convey all that unexpressed affection. It's just …," she trailed off.
"What," Jane prompted, breaking her patient silence.
"I know you were exhausted, and I completely understood your need for solitude. I assure you I didn't take offense at your preference to sleep alone tonight," she quickly assured the other woman before she could apologize yet again.
She paused to moisten her lips, the tip of her tongue drawing the attention of dark brown eyes. With a small smile, she lifted her hand to affectionately cradle the brunette's face, the tender gesture normally reserved for lovers, reveling in the ability to do so.
"The half hour we spent on that couch wasn't even close to an adequate amount of time to satisfy my craving to touch you. My yearning to be near you and feel you made me restless, which drove me here."
Jane wrapped her arms around the doctor, pulling her completely flush against her, and then rolled them to their sides, legs effortlessly intertwining as their upper limbs tightened around one another, securing the embrace.
Maura tilted her head, fitting perfectly into the crook of the other woman's neck, tucked comfortingly under her chin.
The brunette allowed a minute to luxuriate before repositioning them, shifting to lie on her back without breaking contact, drawing Maura in more closely, the entire left part of the shorter woman's torso draped on her. She carefully moved her head, not wanting to jostle the blonde, to press her lips against her forehead. She smiled as she heard her contented sigh. Another slight adjustment to her position, she prepared to speak.
"I've spent the past year and a half suppressing my feelings for you. I had to control my urges. Had to make sure that nothing, not a word or action, would even hint at them. Had to shoot down any and all hope of being with you. I've argued with that voice goading me into breaching our friendship. For more than a year, I've had to constantly remind myself that I shouldn't even entertain ideas about being with you … that way. I'd go over and over the differences between us, why I'd never measure up. I had to condition my body not to take pleasure in any physical contact or proximity, to respect boundaries."
She tipped Maura's face up to establish eye contact.
"Shooting Doyle, and our fallout after, actually gave me a little reprieve from the punishing discipline I had imposed on myself whenever I was around you. Those weeks we weren't talking, as painful and horrible as they were, gave me a chance to regroup, to relax my rein over my feeling for you. To let my guard down for even a moment.
"You have to be patient with me, Maur. I need to recondition my body and mind. Guess they haven't caught up yet to the change in our relationship. I didn't mean to alienate you tonight. Granted we had agreed to take this further, I didn't want to assume that you wanted to share a bed with me or spend any more time with me. See, this was what I was afraid of … not even a few hours and I've already managed to screw this up."
"You didn't screw anything up, Jane," Maura assured, giving in to her yearning for a kiss.
Neither attempted to deepen it, both content with the intimacy of the chasteness of it. There would be time and opportunity for desire and passion later on. The moment called for slow and leisurely, reflective of and celebrating their beginning.
They broke apart after an enjoyable minute, gazes mirroring tenderness and fondness.
"From now on, always assume that I want to be with you," Maura whispered, resettling against Jane's chest, burrowing into the warmth and comfort she found there.
Here and now, in the arms of the person who meant the world to her, her restlessness had faded away. It didn't surprise her that the shift from being best friends to more was fluid and effortless, a seamless, natural progression of an already extraordinary relationship.
"Oh, and Jane," the doctor murmured sleepily.
"Hmm," the detective acknowledged, half asleep.
"Most nights, I prefer to sleep naked."