A/N: I know I should be updating "Unsteady" but I got the idea for this instead. Hopefully part two of this will be up soon, and I will get to work on the next installment of "Unsteady".
In the meantime, enjoy.
"To Be Alone"
I:
You walked into your office, closing the door behind you. You needed a minute alone to collect your thoughts and begin to process your emotions before even beginning to prepare for the day. You knew already that the day was going to prove difficult, mainly because of how it started – perhaps even because of how the night previous had ended, but you weren't quite sure. You tended to feel this way when you woke up alone after having fallen asleep with someone.
The night had begun much like many in the past – wine, movies, pizza (much to your constant dismay), and Jane. Jane Rizzoli – your best friend.
She'd been there when you went to bed, right beside you, but when you'd awoken, all that remained of her was a note, torn haphazardly from a notebook that lay by your bedside, written in her sloppy scrawl, the letters lower and uppercase interchangeably. It read, "I'm sorry. See you at work. – J". She had said she was sorry. But for what you couldn't figure out. For loving you? Hadn't she admitted that she loved you? But how did she love you? She hadn't specified. For kissing you? She had, after all, brushed it off as a drunken mistake – you'd both had entirely too much to drink the night previous, something that you remembered by the pounding ache in your head. But she had, of course, agreed to stay the night after that mishap (was that really all it was?). So for what was she apologizing? You didn't know, but it was a thought that had been on your mind since you woke up to cold sheets instead of warm-blooded woman.
Now, you sat behind your desk and proceeded to fold your arms on top of it, your head resting within the safety of the walls you've built. If only the walls were around your heart. Maybe then you wouldn't have been in the place you are now, so off balance that not even meditation could have brought you back around. So shaken that it was visible in your eyes, in the bags below them, despite your night's sleep being more than decent (for at least half, you think, as you didn't know when Jane had slipped out). You weren't physically tired as much as mentally, that weight taking its toll on your body and your motivation for the day. You hadn't even stopped for breakfast, skipping it entirely.
A small knock came at your door, so softly that you almost didn't hear it at first. You looked up from your makeshift arm fort at the door. You said nothing, hoping if you didn't answer that whoever was at the door would just leave. You glanced at the clock on the wall; 7:58. You still had two minutes until you were officially the Chief Medical Examiner. That person could, and would if you had anything to say about it, wait.
Unfortunately, you couldn't be that lucky. Another sharp knock hit the door, and then a husky voice that you were not expecting to hear bellowed, "Maura! Open the damn door."
You stood quickly, running your hands down the front of your outfit to smooth any wrinkles and in four quick strides unlocked and opened the door to the lanky brunette who you hadn't seen since falling asleep the night before with her hand rubbing circles on your back.
"Yes, Jane?"
Jane leaned against the door frame, looking only slightly disheveled, "I figured I'd bring you a coffee," with this, she extended her arm and for the first time you noticed she was carrying two coffees, presumably one for you and one for her. Was she going to stay and drink it with you?
"Thank you, Jane," you took the cup from her hand, noticing that you were very careful to avoid contact. You assumed that Jane noticed as well because her eyebrows furrowed slightly, showing only slight discontent. "I appreciate it."
Jane nodded, her eyebrows still creasing slightly, "No problem, Maur. Call me if you get anything for me!" And with that, Jane Rizzoli was spinning on her heel as she swaggered to the elevator, leaving you in your doorway, holding a steaming hot cup of coffee.
R&IR&IR&IR&I
Over the next few days, you began to notice a change in Jane's behavior toward you. It was a decidedly unspoken turn, as you haven't brought attention to it. Why haven't you brought it up? Why have you allowed your friendship to go on without addressing the changes in your dynamic? Without addressing the fact that she kissed you? One that felt very much real and not a drunken mistake like Jane had claimed? You presume you haven't addressed it for fear of wat it would do to your friendship.
And besides all of that, you weren't sure how you felt about it, even after days passing. You weren't sure how you felt about Jane in general. Sure, you'd thought about what it would be like to kiss her, about what it would be like to be with her romantically. But it was always a fleeting thought, often spurred by the presence of Jane herself. Never had you dwelled on any of the thoughts.
Even now, you refused to focus on those thoughts, compartmentalizing them and doing all but throwing away the key. Those thoughts would do you no benefit, they would not benefit your relationship.
But still, you weren't sure exactly where you now stood with Jane. Despite vehemently ignoring the kiss, she had gotten much more physical with you than normal. This made you question her, and how well you actually knew her. It briefly made you question if she even remembered the kiss, but if she didn't remember then why would she have left you in the middle of the night? Surely, she remembered. Surely, she did. But with this truth, her actions made little sense. You could argue that sometimes Jane made very little sense to you, with past experiences being proof of that.
She had become even more open with physical touches, more than was normal between you and her. An extra brush of a hand during the passing of a coffee (one she bought you, from your favorite coffee shop – very much out of her own route to work), a lingering hug before leaving your home after having dinner together, unexplainable touches and long stares when she thought you weren't looking. All of this furthered your confusion and made it harder to keep your thoughts from drifting to what she could possibly be feeling, thinking.
It was a few weeks of this shifting that you were forced to endure before things finally seemed to come to a head. It was a Wednesday and you had plenty of work to do. You had multiple autopsies and Jane had caught a new homicide – three males that seemed to have been involved in a major drug ring, thus forcing Jane to work alongside the drug unit.
And Jane, on more than one occasion, had expressed her displeasure in working with the drug unit. And you presumed this is what brought her down to the morgue. She sat silently atop one of the empty morgue tables and watched you work.
After a few minutes, it began to unnerve you, how direct her gaze was on you. You laid down your scalpel and turned to face her expectantly.
She heaved a sigh and began to tell you about how frustrating this case was because the drug unit wasn't cooperating like she believed they should. You simply listened and nodded in all the right places, allowing her to vent her frustrations before she sighed and shook her head, "Sorry, Maur, I know you're busy." She stepped closer to you and allowed her fingertips to graze lightly down your arm, "I'll get out of your hair now."
You smiled at her, trying to hide your confusion and laced her fingers with yours, "You're always welcome, Jane. I don't mind."
Jane nodded and with a second's hesitation, a second of eye contact that showed her fierce emotions playing out behind her eyes, she leaned in and kissed you on the corner of your mouth. She paused there for a moment, her hot breath splashing against your face, and then her nose brushed against yours and all of a sudden she was kissing you. It wasn't urgent, like the last one had been, but it was soft and when you closed your eyes you almost felt like you'd imagined it.
You were letting her kiss you and you weren't pulling away.
She pulled away first, a deep crimson staining her cheeks as she stuttered over her words, backing away from you, "I'll uh," she rubbed at the back of her neck, "I'll uh, catch ya later, Maur." And with that she was once again retreating from you in a flash of dark curls.