A/N: Well, I'm back. Temporarily at least. I have to say I do feel pretty rusty and I apologise for this beforehand.
This is a short two shot that I wrote, which also refers to the wonderful decision of the supreme court a few weeks ago. So yeah, hope you like it so far, but logically Part 2 will be much more interesting, haha.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own anything.
A uneasy glance towards the clock on your bedside table makes you painfully aware of your delay for your lunch date with Jane. You know you should be sitting in the car right now, driving towards the city centre, but you just can't seem to find your favourite pair of pearl earrings. The pair she had given to you five years ago on Valentines Day, the ones that would perfectly match the burgundy cocktail dress you had chosen to wear to the date.
She loves that dress, or more precisely, it's generous display of your accessible skin.
A plain note, which you had found earlier this morning on the kitchen cabinet, had informed you of your expected appearance at the renown L'Espalier at 1 p.m. this afternoon. Normally, Jane would come down to the morgue and surprise you there, before driving to the restaurant together, but you were fighting a momentary headache and cold and therefore had taken an involuntary three day leave from work and stayed home.
And surprisingly, Jane had eagerly supported this idea of you staying home. You reckoned, though, that this opaque enthusiasm had more to do with the fact that she could finally implement her wildest housewife fantasies, rather than expressing real medical concern.
But you couldn't hold it against her since the sex had been good, exceptionally so. Better than it had been in a while. Full of unabashed passion and lust.
The specific occasion, however, as to why Jane wanted you to meet her there, even more so on a windy and rainy Friday late October, was unknown to you, and this lack of knowledge put you on edge. It found a disturbing way of exposing your heart to the faint yet pernicious feeling of inscrutable uneasiness.
Because Jane had never wanted to take you to a fine, or in her words pretentious, restaurant on her own before.
You try to focus back on the present and franticly start rummaging through the drawers of your bedroom dresser, while at the same time trying to ignore your incessantly ringing phone. Then suddenly, you notice something in the corner of your eye. A small and green velvety box, inconspicuously perched on the top of the dresser between old photographs and boxing gloves.
Between Jane's things.
Curious, you pause at the unexpected sight and rise to your feet from your position at the bottom of the dresser. Hesitantly and with trembling fingers, you reach for the green box and place it delicately in your damp palm. As soon as the fabric touches your skin, your body releases a sudden yet heavy breath you weren't even aware of holding in. The case itself is exceptionally soft and light, and yet the potential meaning behind it feels heavy and unfamiliar. Scary even.
It can't be, she wouldn't have. Could this possibly be the reason for the lunch date? Why would she have left it here then?
Slowly, your nimble fingers press the sides apart and the sight you are granted with causes your eyes to widen and your lungs to gasp for air. Everything around you seems to fade, everything except the dull sound of your erratic heartbeat.
Oh, Jane.
The ring is nothing but beautiful. The golden band is thin and evenly formed, and the small diamond placed on its crown compliments it perfectly. Cautiously, you take it out of the box, not able to resist wanting to feel its weight on your finger, wanting to experience the reality this symbol entails, even if the moment is brief.
You, Maura Dorothea Isles, are going to be Jane Clementine Rizzoli's wife.
Jane choses you.
"I will be Jane's wife." The sudden sound of your voice floats through the now silent room, echoing from the walls and filling it with life. This stark realisation makes everything look different now, somewhat more vibrant and colourful, and it feels natural, exciting even, to say these words. Surprisingly, their meaning isn't as scary or confining as you had expected.
Freedom. Happiness. Completeness.
Smiling, you carefully and slowly slide the ring off your lean finger again, relishing the way the cold metal feels on your skin, and put it back where it belongs, safely protected by cushioned velvet. Although the feeling of loss is instant, the certainty that you will see it again, wear it again, eases the slight apprehension that has come to bother your mind.
She wants you forever.
The unexpected sound of the well known melody of Jane's ringtone makes you abandon any further thought about rings and futures immediately. Instead, it brings you back to the fact that you are even later for the lunch date now. Groaning, you quickly walk over to your bed and retrieve your phone from under your pillow. It displays 3 missed calls and 4 unread messages, all from Jane.
Hey babe, you feeling better? Did you get my note about lunch? Love you. J - 10:31 a.m.
Hey, it's me again. Just checking if you found the note on the kitchen counter? Please tell me if you did! Love, J - 11:42 a.m.
Hey Maura, forget about the note. I changed my mind about going to this escargot thing. Nothing to worry about. Guess, I'll see you tonight then. Miss you. J - 12:17 p.m.
Maura, could please pick up your phone and confirm that you read the last messages? By the way, I would've had to cancel lunch anyway since we just caught another case. X J - 12:48 p.m.
It's the third message that makes you pause.
Jane changed her mind? Why?
If you're honest, you are more than intrigued by the reason as to why Jane would have such a radical change of heart so shortly before your presumably high-end dinner and to why she wouldn't tell you. Surely, you had learned through the course of your seven year relationship with Jane, that it was better to not question her occasional spontaneity, but this time, knowing of this box, you couldn't help but to assume. And you couldn't bring yourself to care if Jane would eternally tease you about this fact, given that she ever caught wind of this notion. This was too important.
The ring. Maybe she noticed that she had forgotten it and cancelled lunch because of that? Had she really wanted to propose to you today? Why today? Maybe she didn't want to propose at all? Maybe she's very stressed with work at the moment and wasn't in the mood?
Numerous questions chase each other through the depths of your mind, each one trying to catch the train of your logical thought process, but none of them succeeding. The train is too fast, causing you to sit down on the far side of your bed. One of the worst things a scientist like you could encounter is the lack of answers that one so eagerly wants. That one so desperately needs.
You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to force the rapidly moving ball of questions to slow down. You need clarity now. Serenity. You breath out slowly and release the firm grip of your thumb and forefinger on your nose. Meditation. Over the years, you've come to know that meditation had always helped in these cases of mental distress.
The longer you maintain the steady breathing pattern, the more you feel the logical control of your brain regain its power over the countless and disordered thoughts. Gradually, your vision clears again and the momentary relief makes you sigh. Just as you're ready to confront each question individually and considerately, however, one question violently breaks through the rampart of your mind.
What if she doesn't want to marry you at all?
The pain in your heart is instant. The gut wrenching feeling of rejection, that increases with each beat of your heart, blows you away. Before you're able to grasp any coherent or stabilising thought, tears begin to silently run down your porcelain skin. They burn scorching marks into the delicate flesh, branding you. Showing your weakness, making the intensity of the pain terribly real.
What if she got scared and thinks your relationship isn't strong enough for such a finalising commitment?
You try to break free of these damaging thoughts and unlock your phone anew. You reread the messages while furiously trying to get rid of the treacherous tears.
Stop crying. It is highly probable that there is a simple and logic reason for the cancellation.
You analyse each and every word, focusing mostly on the third and fourth message. It seems to you, that she seems sincere and neither deceitful nor nervous at all. Most importantly, though, it really doesn't seem as if she had wanted to propose to you. Probably, she had just wanted to pay you extra attention after being home alone for these last three days.
Way to go, Maura. Worrying about nothing again. You will see that she will have the perfect explanation for this later.
When you're eyes have finally lost their puffiness and the tears are fully dried again, you decide to call her back. You hope that your attempt to come across as normal as possible will be successful and you try to forget your emotional breakdown and the ring because Jane doesn't need to know about this.
"Finally. Are you okay?" She picks up after the first ring, her voice sounds deeper and rougher than usually.
"Yes, Jane. My headache has greatly improved since this morning. Thank you again for the tablets and the glass of water on my nightstand this morning, I think that really helped." You regret the formalness the words portray instantly, but at the same time you're trying your very hardest not to address the topic of the box that is somehow still burning on the tip of your tongue.
"Good." You wait for her to add something, but she stays silent and that worries you a bit. So you try and get her to come out of her mono-syllablic cave.
"I missed you when I woke up all alone in our bed this morning." She sighs at your puerile confession and you grin lightly at your small victory.
"I missed you, too. Maura.." She hesitates and you hear Korsak calling her in the background. "..I think it's good that we didn't have lunch at this fancy escargot thing now because in the end that would've just been wrong. I really need to go now, Korsak's up my ass, but I have to tell you something when I get home tonight, okay?" Without waiting for your reply, she ends the call with a hasty and hackneyed declaration. "Love you."
The line goes dead and if anything, you're left with more doubt and less reassurance than before. This taciturn behaviour is so unlike Jane and somehow it makes you fear and at the same time anticipate her eventual arrival later tonight.
What does she need to tell you?
Thank you for taking your time and reading this.
Any thoughts so far?
Oh, I forgot to add that I'm in search of a beta. If anybody's interested, please PM me. Thanks in advance!
Cheers, A.