Author Notes: This one-shot happens between the scene in 5x13 where Angela leaves Jane in her apartment and when Jane goes to the police HQ to give Maura a gift. It doesn't specify whether much time passes, but I assume Jane wouldn't go back to work the same day as being pulled out of the water, so for the sake of this story the time frame is a night.
For anyone wondering about my story From Where I'm Standing, I hit a small roadblock, but I'm hoping to write some more soon.
The bottle rolled off the coffee table and landed with a thump on the floor. Jane watched the golden brown liquid spill out into a puddle and though her heart told her that wasted beer was a terrible, terrible thing, she couldn't quite move fast enough to stop the bottle from emptying.
"No, Jo Friday," she shouted, finally reacting as the dog came running across the room to clean up the spillage. She picked him up and dropped him gently onto the couch. "Bad dog."
After mopping up the beer, Jane placed the bottle with five others and went to the fridge to look for more.
"Thank you, Ma," she said, picking up another six pack and kissing the outer packaging.
She walked back to the couch, stopping part way to steady herself on the furniture. She'd been out of the freezing cold water of the Boston Harbour for nearly six hours, they'd checked her over at the hospital and kept her in for a couple of hours for observation. She should have been steadier on her feet.
The alcohol had nothing to do with it.
At all.
Jane flipped the lid of a new bottle and placed it against her lips, the ice cold liquid travelled down her throat. It felt like those long, hot summers days where a cool beer tasted like nothing else. Nothing beat that feeling. The beer caught in the back of her throat and she fought against the intrusion, each cough not quite enough to return her to a state or normalcy. She closed her eyes to push away the memory of water forcing its way into her lungs. She was lucky she didn't swallow more of the ocean. A little beer ran down her chin.
"What a waste," she said, wiping at her mouth.
She opened her eyes to the reality of the night. When she was sat on that boat, coughing up her guts, she'd practiced the words she planned to say to Maura when she saw her the next time. She wasn't supposed to be at the docks when they came in. Jane thought she had more time to gather her thoughts. Maura wasn't supposed to freak out the moment they reunited. Jane's throat wasn't supposed to close over, stopping her from saying more than the bare minimum.
"What a waste."
In that moment after she jumped, Jane could feel her life flashing back and forth through her mind. Every missed opportunity, every moment that wouldn't happen. In every scenario she'd played out of her final moments on the job, usually at the hands of a gun, she thought about her mother and her brothers. Not one of those scenarios prepared her for the moment that the only person she could think about was Maura.
The ridiculous outfit Maura wore at the baseball game.
The tears she shed over her family.
The obsession with shoes.
In any other life Jane and Maura should not have been friends. They were worlds apart, in family background and current status. Maura was a doctor, for Christ's sake. Jane had scrambled her way up through the ranks. Maura had a large house and a fancy car. Jane made do with a crappy apartment and an assigned vehicle.
People like Maura were not friends with people like Jane. She knew that. Yet there they were, two ends of the same pole, unable to survive without the other.
And man could Jane not survive without Maura. Those hours spent in the ocean, when she was not caught up worrying about water in her lungs or keeping Paul close, were spent thinking about every little detail of Maura that Jane could remember.
Right down to the shape of her curves.
The shape of her breasts.
Her lips.
The way her hair would feel tangled around Jane's fingers, if only they had the opportunity.
Those thoughts should not have been there, in her mind. They didn't belong. They were best friends and Jane had never felt anything more than friendship for another woman before. Then again, she didn't really have many female friends growing up. She fought and played with the boys. She was always one of them, except when she was dating them.
Not that any of those relationships had gone anywhere.
No matter how many of her past relationships she considered, Jane couldn't find one she would have happily followed to the end. But she couldn't say the same about Maura.
She lay down on the couch, slowly working through another couple of beers, just a couple. Until all six had disappeared and Jane's head was pounding with images of Maura. The longer she lay there thinking about the most important person in her world, the more she realised just how significant that was.
"Maura," she whispered, sitting up, dropping the last empty bottle of beer on the table and heading for the door.
Jane marched out of the apartment in her sweats. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders and she could feel the cold seeping through the fabric of her clothing. It didn't matter. She needed to go over there and talk to her.
"Thank...you," said Jane, almost falling out of the cab and onto the street. She walked up the driveway and rang Maura's doorbell.
"Jane," Maura said. "What are you doing here?"
"The cab," said Jane, tapping her forehead to find the final word. "Pay."
Maura lifted her purse and rushed to pay the driver his fare. When she returned to the doorstep, Jane stood resting against the doorframe. Whatever happened next, she wanted it to happen right there. If only to keep her stable enough to tell Maura the truth.
"Love," said Jane, holding a finger out in front of her. "I love…you. I love you."
"You're drunk, Jane," said Maura, reaching out and resting a hand on Jane's shoulder.
She nodded. "I am, yes. But, I love you."
"I love you too," said Maura, her voice relaxed and nonchalant, like she was saying something she said frequently.
"No, no," said Jane, sighing. She opened her mouth to speak but the words just wouldn't form right in her head. "Not like, no."
"Not like what, Jane?"
"Like, like."
Her brain buzzed with words, none of which would make their way out of her brain so that Maura could understand her. She held her finger out in front of her, trying to explain, but eventually she gave up.
"It's okay," said Maura. "You can tell me tomorrow, you should come in and get some rest."
"No," said Jane, placing a hand on each of Maura's shoulders.
She stared into her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes. She'd seen them so many times but never this way before, never this intensely. She slid her hands along Maura's collarbone, leaning forward until she could feel Maura's breath on her lips.
"You," she said, closing the gap until Maura's lips were resting against her own, not moving, until Jane opened her mouth and Maura reacted. She didn't know who pulled away first, or why, but it didn't matter. A sense of regret ran through her and she stepped backwards.
"Oh." The sound fell from Maura's lips as she stood, frozen, on the spot.
"Sorry," said Jane.
There were better times to have done what she'd just done. There were more appropriate moments to reveal how she felt without throwing it at Maura like a child in a snowball fight. Drunk.
"I know why you…mad, you're mad." Jane paused. "I am. I hated what, I hated it. I, I can't, the beers. Can't imagine."
"I think you've had too much to drink," said Maura, reaching a hand out to Jane's shoulder, but she just shrugged her off. She wasn't going to be dismissed as a drunk, despite how difficult it was to form words.
"I need, Maura," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. She tried to fight them from coming. It was too difficult to remain standing, to form thoughts, and fight tears. "You."
Maura tilted her head slightly to the side, a sympathetic smile doing little to allay Jane's worries. She'd potentially just destroyed the only good relationships she'd ever had by trying to make it more than it was.
"Sorry."
"Come on," said Maura, wrapping her arm tightly around Jane's shoulder and guiding her into the house. "Let's get you to bed."
Jane sunk into the sheets of Maura's spare bed without complaint. The scent of Maura's perfume lingered in the air, so familiar and homely. Jane's eyelids fluttered closed, open, closed again, as she listened to Maura potter about in the bathroom.
"Drink this," said Maura, tapping her on the cheek until she opened her eyes again. Jane lifted herself up a little with her elbows and sipped the water that Maura held by her lips. "You need to finish this before you go to sleep."
"What about you?"
"I'll have some too," said Maura, taking a sip and holding it back in front of Jane's mouth. After she'd drunk half of it, Maura placed it on the table.
"Do you really, really…love me?" Jane asked, her face involuntarily brightening up with a smile. Maura shuffled to lie down beside her, their arms barely touching but the close vicinity made the hairs of Jane's arms stand on end. She rolled onto her side and stared into Maura's eyes again, her eyes travelling down her body then back up, resting briefly on her perfectly formed breasts and on up to her eyes.
"I've always loved you, Jane," Maura said, rolling onto her side. She reached out to touch Jane's face, the feel of her hand on her cheek sent a couple of tears strolling down Jane's face. She wanted to lean forwards and kiss her again, but she couldn't comprehend what Maura had just said or what it meant. She didn't need to do anything. Maura closed the gap, her hand sliding across Jane's neck until their lips came together in a moment of passion.
The alcohol in her system fought Jane's instinct to just lie there and allow Maura to do what she pleased, instead she wrapped her arms around Maura's back, pressing her body as close to Maura's as she could, her knee parting Maura's thighs slightly as she rolled her over and pinned her to the bed. She kissed her deeper, running her lips along her jaw bone, down her neck and towards the edge of her shirt.
"No," said Maura, pushing her off. Jane rolled onto her back, her heart pounding inside her chest, her breath laboured. She could feel her body reacting to Maura's and it was as disappointed at the premature end as she was.
"Why?"
"You're drunk, Jane," said Maura. "I don't want it like this. I don't think you do, either."
"No, no, I do," said Jane, but she didn't move from her spot on the bed.
She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping that it would be long enough to sober up and maybe then Maura would allow her the privilege of sharing their first night together.
When she opened her eyes again, the sun streamed through the curtains, an alarm clock buzzed across the hall and Jane's throat felt like sandpaper. She downed the rest of the water, had two more glasses, then went back to the bedroom in search of Maura. She wasn't in her own bed, nor was she in the spare one.
The night before flooded into Jane's mind and she felt sick. Did any of it even happen or was she just dreaming? She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her eyes were blood shot, her cheeks blotchy. She ran a hand through her matted hair and down across her mouth, where a large red smudge of lipstick sat in a shade she would recognise anywhere.
Author Notes: Thank you for reading my one-shot, I hope you enjoyed it. Smiles welcome, comments are just a bonus.
