I got the idea for this pure fluff one-shot at work so I quickly typed up a note for myself on my phone which was this: "football game kiss cam the end" and this is what came of it.
Jane gets nervous butterflies in her stomach when she sees what's on the big screen of the jumbotron.
Don't stop, don't stopdontstop, she mouths the words like a fervent prayer, fast and faster.
The camera stops in their section. The double heart frames their faces, "Kiss Cam" in curly letters underneath.
Along with wanting to puke up the contents of her stomach, Jane also has a heart attack.
Maura hasn't noticed, wrapped in a blanket, her head against Jane's shoulder, snowflakes in her hair. She's able to identify the more commonly used plays now as well as most of the different positions.
Jane risks a glance at her and then her eyes dart back to the screen. Maura's eyes are falling shut and she looks completely content, leaning at least fifty percent of her body weight into Jane. And Jane doesn't mind, her arm slung over her friend's shoulders. No wonder they were mistaken for a couple.
A guy in the row behind them wolf whistles loudly, making her scowl and he's loud enough that Maura lifts her head. Jane pulls her arm back and opens her mouth to warn Maura, but it's too late, the blonde's eyes are on the massive screens suspended above the football field. "Ja-" she starts, blinking at the relentless camera.
The crowd is starting to make noise. Chanting "Kiss, kiss, kiss!" up through the stands.
Jane can feel herself blushing furiously. Quickly, she leans in and kisses Maura on the cheek.
The camera view flips to another couple and the crowd quiets.
Maura's cheek was very, very warm from where it had been pressed against her shoulder.
Jane tries to catch her friend's eyes, but Maura is looking down and won't give her the eye contact. Jane sighs, tucking her hands back into her coat pockets and peering down at the field where the players are beginning to return to their formations after halftime. She feels a warm weight on her legs and looks at them. Maura's in the process of unfolding the blanket and draping it over the both of them.
Jane is about to thank her, has her mouth open and the first syllable out, but then everything stops because Maura's cool hands are on her face and why isn't she wearing gloves- oh. Oh. and her lips are on hers.
And Jane is very, very glad that this is not being broadcasted for every Patriots fan to see on the jumbotron because when Maura opens her hazel eyes and stares at her Jane feels like she's the only person in the world and she doesn't want to share Maura with anyone ever.
"Mine?" she asks, very softly. A snowflake falls on her nose and she watches as Maura goes almost cross-eyed looking at it.
Maura grins and Jane could swear that she has that Rizzoli trademark down pat if her mind wasn't blissfully blank and buzzing.
"No," Maura responds gently and puts her hands over Jane's clenched ones still in her pockets.
"Mine."
Jane bares her teeth in a wide smile as the clock starts again, the seconds flying by. Leans back in the hard chair, thirty-four and thirty-five C, and leans the side of her head against the side of Maura's shoulder.
"Yours."
She doesn't mind that the snow sticks to her smile.