Summary: Maura appears to be rather fixated … why would that be?
Spoilers: Season 2, Eps 1,2,3
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. Shame – because I love them! I make no profit from this, so please don't sue…
Author's Note: Not beta'ed, sorry!
The Case of Maura's Rampaging, Over-active Sex Drive
It was a strange reaction, if truth be told and one that Dr Maura Isles didn't entirely understand. She had not, in fact, made the connection between this development and a certain event that had transpired to her dearest friend, Detective Jane Rizzoli, because, on the surface, they did not appear to be linked at all. But just as her amygdale and lachrymal gland had a connection she couldn't quite control, so it would seem that Jane shot and fighting for her life caused a rather peculiar corresponding reaction in Maura: a rampaging, over active sex drive.
Jane, of course, would survive and recover admirably from recklessly shooting herself, but Maura hadn't known that. She'd set up camp, along with Mr and Mrs Rizzoli in the hospital room in which both Jane and Frankie now lay stable, albeit precariously balanced on the precipice that lies between life and death. Neither parent had questioned her vigil by their daughter's side, although Maura did wonder if it was considered peculiar that she be there, especially in the light of the escalating tension between the pair. Not that it mattered really, she refused, point blank, to be budged by nursing staff who maintained she was not family and therefore not entitled to stay beyond visiting hours and was grateful that Mrs Rizzoli spoke up for her. Familial bickering would hardly be the thing to drive her away.
The whole situation did, however, create a rather unpleasant, low level uneasiness within her. Maura's emotional landscape had always been relatively clean cut. To date, she had managed to live her life with a measure of analytical detachment which allowed her to step back from situations without excessive emotions to colour her understanding. She could thus gather the facts, just as she gathered evidence from a corpse, to build a precise picture of a situation and decide from there how she wanted to respond. Operating from this place gave Maura a sense of security and satisfaction that all her choices were logical, coherent and justifiable and therefore, most likely, correct. It was because she operated thus that Maura found Jane so deceptively complex. Jane operated from her gut. She was emotional and wild, a thunderstorm of abrasive anger which could just as quickly segue into the warm glow of compassion. And Maura found this fascinating which is why she had made the very clear and logical choice to be Jane's friend. She had methodically encouraged Jane's friendly overtures and had been conscious of making her own in return and had, with a great sense of enjoyment, watched how two such fundamentally different people had developed a binding relationship. She'd been too busy observing Jane to realise that she, Dr Maura Isles, had become emotionally invested and therefore vulnerable to illogically emotional behaviour.
Thus unsettled from being made hostage, from the panic of saving Frankie's life, from seeing her dearest friend collapse, a bullet puncturing her abdomen and blood everywhere, it can be understood that she would reach for something familiar. If one were to study Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, it would not come as much of a surprise that sex would feature at the top of the list. After all, what is more natural, when one is in need of solace and comfort, to seek physical intimacy?
Not having left Jane's side until she was declared 'out of the woods' (Maura found this saying rather perplexing ) the only males she had been in the vicinity to other than Mr Rizzoli, had been Dr Byron Slucky. He had a certain bearing which got her attention and his methodical, if not always gentle, ministrations to her friend gained her approval. She also noted that he had been expressing many of the acceptable signs of attraction, including a willingness to discuss Jane and Franki's condition at length, a tendency to look at her longer than was merely professional and a dilation of the pupils when she stood close. He was physically pleasing, though perhaps a little shorter and stouter than she preferred, but this would not be a deterrent because although she was not, as I said before, entirely aware of her motivations, she found him altogether quite suitable for sex.
His tenderness was not an unwelcome surprise although she had wanted something a little rougher to take her edge off, but she was hardly going to complain. She hadn't, to be a little crude, been laid in a while – in a long while actually and she found that in this moment she rather craved it, even if it was not exactly how she wanted. It was also nice to be taken out and he had, if not the most refined sensibilities, a good knowledge of wines and fine dining. Unlike Jane he was not deceptively complex and was, in fact, a little obtuse but he had the ability to speak with little or no prompting which made the whole affair rather easy to continue and before she knew it, they had been at it for three months.
The first two weeks after Jane's release, Maura stayed in her apartment, making sure she was fed, the house clean and mediating between Jane and her mother. She found she rather enjoyed feeling needed by someone , even if that someone else was grouchy, tetchy and sullen a great deal of the time. She understood that trauma such as Jane had experienced could cause heightened emotional responses and so she ministered to her friend with patience and understanding. What she didn't understand, or even link, was that in those two weeks her sex drive was out of control and when Byron was unavailable to see to her needs, she found herself having to take matters into her own hands (quite literally). Thank goodness for continuous hot water flow cylinders.
The shine was wearing off the relationship by the time he called her "merely" a pathologist so she shoved his folder into his stomach and told him to get lost.
This, you can imagine, did nothing for her libido. She couldn't help herself, she kept thinking and talking about sex, even transferring her sexual frustration onto those around her.
"Playing with your hair is a sign of sexual frustration."
"Peeling the label off the bottle is a sign of sexual frustration."
"You know what stroking the stem of a glass means, don't you Jane?"
"Oh let me guess… sexual frustration?"
Why yes, yes it does.
"Do I need to stage an intervention, Maura?"
"Well, unless that intervention involves an orgasm, no."
Jane almost sprayed her mouthful of beer across the Dirty Robber.
"Maura!" she said scandalized.
"What?"
For the record dirt baths did nothing to assuage her urges, nor did that massage she and Jane had at the spa retreat (would it surprise you to know she returned home hornier than ever?). When baby John Doe made an appearance she thought briefly that perhaps it was her biological clock ticking but she concluded that as clucky as the experience had made her (she was still trawling on-line baby stores weeks later), it really wasn't that. She wasn't interesting in finding a man to settle down with, she just wanted avail herself of their bodies.
So can you blame her if she went a little gaga over the sailors, come sailor week? With Jane valiantly defending her honour, as she seemed intent on doing at every turn, she had the misfortune (or fortune as we will soon see) to find herself with Giovanni and that could be described as scraping the barrel just a bit (a lot) and to make matters worse he seemed to have latched on and was not letting go.
What to do, what to do?
Maura was nothing, if not brilliant.
"I think… I think that we should just tell him, don't you…babe?"
Her brilliance did not prepare her for the thrill of feeling Jane's body press against her back and if she contemplated a threesome with Giovanni it was only because in involved Jane. Suddenly it all clicked into place and Maura had what you might call an 'aha' moment. She suddenly saw how her fear of loosing Jane had sparked a need for intimacy, she saw how intimacy with Byron had been left wanting, she saw how Jane's very presence seemed to excite her sexual desires and finally she saw how the person she really wanted to be intimate with was Jane.
Most other people might find that an awkward discovery to make, especially as the person in question was sitting in the seat next to her, but Maura was not your average gal.
"Quit staring at me, Maura."
"I'm just wondering…would you have a threesome with me?"
"And Giovanni? Really?" Her eyebrows had shot up into her hairline.
"No, not necessarily with Giovanni."
Jane looked confused and uncomfortable. "I … I'm not really a threesome kinda person…"
"I don't blame you, they can be troublesome and not necessarily that satisfying."
"Seriously?"
"Well, I find that it splits the focus…"
"Are you kidding me, Maura!"
"What?"
"I… just… nothing."
Jane had turned her eyes resolutely back to the road except now she was leaning forward and gripping the steering wheel tightly.
"Well if you wouldn't do a threesome, how about just us two?"
"Uh…"
"Are you okay, Jane?"
It appeared not. Jane, who was not prone to blushing (Maura had observed) was now turning a bright red and her breath was shallow. Maura also noticed that Jane's shirt was now vibrating with the pounding of her heart. Maura knew what that meant. That meant arousal (either that or a fight/flight reaction, the signs were so similar).
Now before you jump to the conclusion that they fell into bed as soon as they got to Maura's let me tell you that they did not (Mrs Rizzoli was there, it was hardly the moment). But Maura did begin a rather direct campaign to woo Jane, and, because we all know that Jane is very, very gay, it did not take long before she succumbed to Maura's considerable charms.
When they did finally lie sweaty and spent in each others arms (and no, it wasn't the best sex of their lives, it generally never is the first time but believe me, they practiced very hard and their diligence paid off …) Maura wondered how she had managed to be so supremely unaware of her attraction when, in hindsight, it was blindingly obvious she had a thing for the Detective. She pondered this as she drifted off to sleep, the lithe body of her now lover spooned into her, and she concluded that Jane had come from left field, or to use a more appropriate analogy, Jane was that piece of evidence that had been staring her in the face the entire time but she was too preoccupied noting the mosquito bite on the outer right thigh of the cadaver to notice. Well now she had noticed and though it meant opening herself up to all sorts of emotions and the messiness it entailed, she had to say that she was pretty damned glad she had.