A/N: Sometimes I can't sleep and I write one-shots. Same old drill...no continuations for this one. Just an idea I wanted to get out!

It had been a while since Maura had allowed herself to get tipsy. It had definitely been a while since Jane had felt like getting tipsy in Maura's presence. Fairly soon into their friendship, Jane had realized she'd really have to watch her alcohol intake around Maura, because when she had too much of it, her filter shut off very quickly. Dangerously quickly. It made her think and say things she would never, ever say or even think sober.

Like what? Oh, like, "Maura, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You should be kissed, often. And by somebody who knows how." (In Jane's defense, she had needed the alcohol to get through the screening of Gone With the Wind that Maura had insisted on for some reason.) And then she had babbled incoherently about slavery and the Old south, never giving Maura a chance to ask her to elaborate on the whole needing-to-be-kissed thing.

That had happened months ago, and Maura never forgot it. When she recognized late one night in her living room that her chance might come up again, she went after it like a hawk.

"Jane, can I ask you something?"

"Duh," Jane grunted, flipping an empty beer bottled in her hand. "Look, Maura, I caught it!"

"Amazing," Maura said, reaching for the bottle when Jane tried to toss it again.

Jane sank back onto the pillows of the couch, looking utterly relaxed. "Really?"

"Yes. Your hand-eye coordination seems to remain impressively on par with your record when you are sober."

"You're right. It does. Were you gonna ask me something?"

"Yes." Maura decided to get right to it. "Do you think Frankie might be gay?"

Jane sat up immediately. "What?"

Unable to tell for certain if Jane's tone was angry or just intensely shocked, Maura frowned. "I was wondering if you thought—"

"Frankie's not into dudes!" Jane cut her off, looking pained. "No way!"

"Oh." Maura circled the rim of her wine glass before setting it down on the coffee table. She slipped off her red heels, pulling her legs up onto the couch and tucking them beneath her.

"Why, did he say something to you?" Jane asked sharply.

Shrug. "No."

"Well then why the hell would you say that?"

"Because I get the feeling that maybe there's an unspoken attraction between him and Detective Frost."

"Frost? Maura, are you serious?" Jane laughed.

The shift to recognizable laughter eased Maura slightly. "Yes, or haven't you noticed?"

"Noticed what?"

"They go everywhere together. They spend time together. They argue over ridiculous things, like that action figure Frankie had as a child. And even in instances where Frankie doesn't need to come along, Frost will invite him."

Jane was laughing and waving her hand while Maura gave her reasons. "Maura, Maura, Maura. No. They're just doing guy stuff. And besides, remember that pissing contest they had over Riley?"

"I wasn't convinced."

"Of what?"

"A sincere attraction to her. Perhaps at least Frost was interested in the possibility of a sexual encounter—"

"Sexual encounter with a woman? There. See? Not gay."

"You're right, 'gay' is much too broad of a term," Maura decided. "But honestly, Jane. Let us just say, hypothetically."

"You said you hate hypothetical stuff. You said it was like lying to your brain."

"No, that was actually the page on that NBC program you enjoy so much."

"Do you think Liz Lemon and Jack Donaghy are friends in real life?"

"Jane! Stop avoiding my hypothesis!"

"What hypothesis?"

Maura could barely contain a sigh of frustration. "That your little brother is possibly attracted to other males."

Jane frowned thoughtfully and picked up a discarded bottle of beer. Although it was empty, she trailed it across her lip, holding it there, thinking. In all honesty, she could not imagine Frankie having the hots for another man—certainly not Frost. Right? They were just pals. Her thoughts trailed to men in general, and how she herself had been failing so hard in that department lately… ever since Maura had come into her life. Stupid guys with their stupid dicks and their rough skin and their desperate need to be in control all the time. Gross.

"Dumbass," Jane muttered after a very long silence.

Maura raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, not you," Jane said, setting the bottle back down on the floor. "I meant Frankie. He'd be a dumbass to go after guys."

"And why exactly is that?"

"Because!"

"Jane, you know that has never been a valid argument when you are speaking with me."

"Okay, maybe 'dumbass' is overstating it," Jane said, waving her hand exaggeratedly. "But c'mon, Maura. What does he see in men? What does he see in them when he could have a woman…" She sighed dreamily and lay back on the pillows of the couch again, her eyes closing as she pictured a nameless, faceless woman. "Women are perfect. They've got perfect skin and perfect smiles and perfect eyes. Everything about them is soft and beautiful …gentle." She licked her lips and smiled. "They've got soft mouths, and sexy collarbones. Isn't that random? Totally true, though. How could Frankie not want that? And then like their legs curve up, and there's no junk to deal with. Instead of junk you get…" She lifted her hands and curved them in the shape of outlining a pair of breasts, chuckling to herself.

Then she opened her eyes and suddenly the woman she was describing was not so nameless or so faceless.

"Oh," she said.

"What?" Maura asked, breathlessly.

"Oh, damn."

"What, Jane?"

"I dunno if Frankie's gay or not," Jane mused slowly, sitting up again. "But I sure as hell feel like I am right now."

Without another word, she reached over and pulled Maura into a sloppy but passionate kiss. Maura was only glad she had already put down her wine glass; otherwise it would have shattered to the floor as she quickly threw her arms around Jane, pulling her even closer. She had to do this, had to try this, before Jane lost her nerve. Fortunately, that didn't seem to be an option anytime soon: when Maura had reciprocated the action, Jane moaned and it was the sexiest sound Maura had ever heard. They were both on their knees, and Maura felt hers buckling when she felt Jane's tongue pressing against her lips.

At that moment though, Jane pulled back. "Oh God, I'm sorry," she said breathlessly.

"You are?" Maura asked, looking flushed.

But Jane was already shaking her head. "I'm not sorry," she whispered, bringing her hand up to Maura's neck and pulling her in for another kiss.

This was ridiculously better than any buzz Jane had ever gotten from drinking. Maura had one hand grasping at Jane's waist, the other busily attempting to take Jane's hair out of its restrictive tie. It was a little painful for Jane's sensitive scalp, but she couldn't have cared less, particularly when Maura finally succeeded and was able to bunch some newly freed curls in her fist.

"Maura," Jane gasped, shifting and starting a trail of kisses down Maura's neck.

Maura accommodated her, moving both hands to Jane's back and turning to press herself against the couch. Jane straddled her easily, struggling to undo the buttons of Maura's blouse. But that suddenly jarred Maura out of her hazy state.

"Jane," she panted, grabbing Jane's waist.

"No, please!" Jane gasped. "Please, Maura, let me—"

She kissed Maura's lips again, palming one of her breasts, and Maura felt her mind go blissfully blank again. This was it, this was what they wanted, wasn't it?

"Wait," Maura insisted, pushing Jane's hand away. "Jane, stop, please."

"What is it?" Jane whispered, looking hurt. "Why'd you stop me?"

Yes, why did I stop her? Maura had to ask herself. Her mouth hung open uselessly for a moment as she forced herself to think. Oh, right. I don't want anything else to happen if she's just going to wake up tomorrow like nothing did. We can't do this and then have her regret it. "Jane, we can't go any further."

"Why not? Aren't you…"

Maura leaned forward, offering Jane a quick, chaste kiss. "This was amazing," she said softly. "But I don't go farther without at least a first date."

"Maura, I'll take you on a date, I promise—"

"Don't promise me, Jane Rizzoli," Maura said, veering slightly out of the way when Jane tried to kiss her again. She held up a finger to separate them, and Jane stared at it as she continued to speak. "You've been drinking."

"No I haven't!"

"Jane."

"Okay, yes I have. But so what? Maura, this is stupid. We both want this."

"I want you to still want it tomorrow."

Jane stared at her, looking betrayed. Then she grumbled and stood up off the couch. "Whatever," she muttered, grabbing her jacket.

Maura stumbled when she got to her feet. "Jane, don't—"

"I know, I know, I've been drinking!" Jane almost shouted. "I'm not gonna drive!"

"Well where you are going?"

"Out! I'll sleep in my car if I have to. I sure as hell can't say here with you!"

"Please, Jane, I didn't—"

With a heavy sigh, Jane turned around. She hadn't realized Maura was so close behind her, but now that she was, she took Maura's hands and spoke in a much more level voice. "Maura, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you. I'm just sort of… y'know, out of it."

"Don't leave like this, please."

When Jane laughed, it didn't sound very happy. "Like what? Crushed, like an old beer can?" She shrugged. "It's no big, Maura. Nothin' wrong here. Don't worry about it. As a matter of fact, I think I'll visit Ma for a second. I haven't caught up with her in a while! Think maybe she thinks Frankie's gay?"

Maura was at a loss for words.

"Don't worry," Jane repeated, stumbling backwards towards the front door. "I'm just gonna go have a word with Ma, okay? Get some sleep Maura, you look like hell."

With that, she walked resolutely out the front door. Maura went to the window, where she noticed Jane's keys lying on the end table. She wouldn't be able to try and drive off, then. And she wasn't so drunk that she'd try something as foolish as walk home, was she? Maura remained at the window, trying to see if Jane was pacing around in the dark, but she couldn't see her. After a minute or two, she got up and walked to the room which offered a look towards the guest house. The lights were off, but Maura could make out the image of Jane sitting by the door, as if waiting to be let in.

What Maura couldn't see were the tears Jane was no longer able to hold back, now in fact streaming freely down her face. It was gross sobbing, the kind she rarely did. Actually, the kind she only did when she was too drunk to fight it off (or, if she was honest with herself, had been coerced into watching Old Yeller). The tears were hot on her face, the result of embarrassment and confusion and passion that had been cut short much too quickly.

For the first time in her life, Maura fell asleep at the window. She didn't realize this until the next morning, when a loud knocking sound interrupted her slumber. It took a moment for her to orient herself, and another moment to realize she had fallen asleep watching Jane outside, waiting for her to move. Well she was certainly gone now, and Maura cursed inwardly as she stood up to go answer the door. Who was knocking at such an early hour anyway?

Looking vaguely annoyed and no doubt terrible after a poor night's sleep, Maura yanked the door open and almost gasped in surprise.

"Jane?"

"You sound so shocked," Jane chuckled, walking inside. She was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, a red t-shirt and jeans, but her hair was pulled up again and she was holding coffee and an azalea that looked as if it had been picked from a house down the street.

"Where did you go last night?" Maura asked, shutting the door and walking towards the kitchen where Jane was already unpacking the coffee.

"I let myself into the guest house eventually. Ma didn't even know I was there, I don't think. Uh… Maura?"

She was fidgeting. "Yes?"

Jane sighed, looking at her with sort of a weary affection. "It's just past seven o'clock in the morning. Your eye makeup is smudged, your clothes are wrinkled, and your hair's a little messed up."

Maura raised a hand self-consciously to her hair. "Well thank you for pointing that out," she sniffed, now heading towards the bathroom. "But in my defense, I didn't sleep too well—"

Jane gently took her arm before Maura could get past the island. Maura looked at her questioningly, and Jane smiled gently, taking a step closer. "And I bet your breath smells really god-awful right now."

"Are you this charming around men?" Maura asked.

It nearly made Jane wince, but she just smiled a little wider. "My point is that, uh… you're still so beautiful, and I wanna kiss you no matter how bad your breath smells."

Before Maura quite had a chance to catch up, Jane leaned in for a short kiss. Maura felt her heartbeat slowly start to build, and she might have been standing ten feet tall before Jane pulled back.

"What's in that coffee?" Maura whispered.

"Just a little milk and sugar. Oh, and bourbon. Tons of bourbon."

"Jane…"

"That was sarcasm, Maura."

The doctor frowned. "Why did you do that?"

Jane looked a little more serious. "Kiss you? Well… I wanted to make sure I really wanted to take you out tonight. And the verdict's in. I do." She took a step back and picked the azalea up off the kitchen island, holding it out for Maura.

The flower shook in her trembling hand. "Is that sarcasm?" she asked hesitantly.

Jane bit her lip, thinking of all the sarcastic comebacks she could provide. What she finally settled on was a sincere reply: "If that was a sarcastic sentiment, may I forthwith be forced to wear pink on a daily basis, and sleep in a canopy bed with Yo-Yo Ma playing on repeat." Maura slowly smiled, and Jane reflected it. "Scout's honor, Maura. What time can I pick you up?"