Maura changed her dress for the tenth time since she'd thought she'd found "the one." But after another look in the mirror, she decided it was all wrong. It was amazing really, a closet full of the finest dresses imported from all corners of the globe, and she couldn't find a single one good enough for Jane.
No, that's silly. Jane will love whichever one I choose.
She decided on a simple, yet flattering blue dress that she'd worn once before. She didn't typically like to wear the same dress twice (with all the options out there, there's simply not enough time to appreciate the craftsmanship of each one!), but she kept this one around because of the effect she knew it had on a certain brunette.
As for her hair, well, she knew what Jane liked. She left it down, the blond waves flowing over her shoulders in the way Jane once inadvertently blurted out as "gorgeous" before blushing an adorable shade of crimson. Maura smiled at the memory. Though years ago, she still remembered all the signs from the beginning. She'd patiently waited years for Jane to finally ask her on a proper date, and not without a plethora of not-so-subtly dropped hints on Maura's end. Sometimes Jane needed a little push, or two, or three...
But look where we are now.
Years of chasing, and Maura had finally caught her.
There was a beauty in that, and Maura was certain she'd never let herself forget it. Her adoptive mother had always told her, "Good things come to those who wait." She had not realized the truth in the platitude until now.
Her mother was only half-right; Jane was more than a mere "good" thing, she was simply the best. There was more to her than appearances, that's for sure. Upon first meeting, Maura acknowledged her unequivocal beauty immediately. But being the aloof philanthropist she so often was, Maura had managed to make the first meeting between doctor and (eventual) detective less than cordial.
But as time went on, the pair became the very best of friends. They were an odd pair in truth, the brainy medical examiner, and the sarcastic homicide detective, socializing over dead bodies and going undercover in gay bars. She'd grown to love their exchanges to the point of longing for them daily. She craved the sound of Jane's raspy, low voice teasing her about her methods. It had become their routine, and Maura felt grounded in the best possible sense of the word.
Then, as of quite recently actually, Maura noted the fact that Jane seemed to linger more than usual. The detective never seemed to know what to say when confronted about it. She'd just merely smile and make an excuse to leave. Or other times when Maura would ask Jane and her family to dinner, and Jane would look everywhere but at the doctor. Maura was not as clueless as Jane may have assumed. She'd always been keen on the little things.
Finishing off her look with a pair of dangling earrings, Maura took one last look in the mirror before returning to the kitchen.
In grand tradition of the Rizzolis, Jane had inherited their ability of eat just about anything and love it. With Jane, it didn't matter whether they were dining at a soup kitchen or five-star restaurant- food was food.
All the same, Maura wanted it to be perfect. She had her reasons. Tonight wasn't about settling. Tonight was about beginnings and endings, overtures and conclusions.
Taking the roast chicken out of the oven, a wave of panic washed over her. She hadn't realized just how painfully average the dinner she was making was.
This doesn't say romance! This says family dinner. I might as well call Angela and Frankie over!
She cursed herself for her hypocrisy. This was not supposed to be a night of settling. The analog clock on the wall laughed at her when she glanced at the time.
Jane will be here any minute and I won't have anything to show for myself!
She scoured her fridge and cabinets for something she could throw together in... Eight minutes. The doctor knew the futility of her search, but she was too vain to halt just yet.
The sound of her own doorbell had never been so nerve-shattering. She froze upright, suddenly realizing how flustered she must have looked. But there wasn't anything she could do about that at this point.
Taking a deep breath, she crossed the room and opened the door.
The woman standing in front of her was not the Jane Rizzoli Maura had grown so affectionately accustomed to. No, the woman before her couldn't possibly be the Boston-born tough cop, who's iconically known for favoring of slacks and button-ups over dresses at any occasion. Clad in a gorgeous wine-colored A-line dress, Jane looked like a creature only existent in the fantastical, yet irrational, world of dreams.
"Uh... Hey, Maur," Jane said, her tone tinged with nervous laughter similar to that of a young child.
"Jane, you- you're beautiful."
The understatement of the century. How original. Nice going, Maura. Way to start off the night on a good note.
Jane recoiled as the crimson blood rose in her cheeks. "Thanks. Um... You look," she struggled to find the words, "amazing. You look amazing."
"Thank you," Maura said, motioning for her to come inside.
What am I going to do now?
"Um, Jane, do you maybe want to go out to a restaurant? I heard about this new French restaurant that's supposed to be- What are you doing?"
Jane walked into the kitchen and surveyed the chicken still atop the stove. Maura scolded herself for not banishing the atrocity to the trash earlier.
"What's wrong with this? It smells good."
But... I wanted...
Jane hesitated, "Unless of course you order for me, you know, in French."
In truth, the last place Maura wanted to go was to a restaurant. Restaurants lacked the intimacy she was craving, and honestly, the chicken was starting to gain appeal with each passing second.
"It didn't turn out the way I wanted it to," Maura mumbled. It wasn't a total lie, but not a burning truth either.
"Oh," Jane said, dropping her eyes to her feet.
This is not going at all how I planned. It's not supposed to be this hard!
Maura flashed a smile, "There is another option."
"Such as?"
"Pizza, Chinese, anything. I'm not too picky."
Jane's smile returned- her real one. (The one Maura had dreamed about more times than once.) "Dr. Isles, takeout on a first date? That's unheard of."
Maura shrugged, "Well, I know how much you love that sort of thing."
"And you're okay with it?"
"Yes, I am."
They took to the couch as Maura listened to Jane order. Never before has 'half-pepperoni and sausage-half-Mediterranean with thick crust' sounded so sexy. Maura watched Jane's mouth form the words- Jane had a great mouth. One could only imagine the possibilities...
Jane hung up, "Thirty minutes or less."
A million and one activities of a certain caliber flashed through Maura's mind. Some of them enough to elevate her pulse. Thirty minutes is a long time...
Stop it! You're being disrespectful. She's a woman, not an object.
Jane folded her hands in her lap, the scars of the past still marring the smooth skin of her hands. At the sight, Maura felt a pain in her chest. (Not literally, of course, the doctor knew the difference between physical and emotional pain. But this pain? She wasn't exactly sure.) Jane had been through more than Maura even wanted to imagine.
She reached over and took one of Jane's hands in her own. Warren Hoyt had terrorized everyone at BPD more times than once. But it was always Jane. Jane was the creature of Hoyt's sick fantasies, his obsession. Maura traced her thumb over the skin on Jane's palm that didn't quite match the rest. It most likely never would. She'd always have to carry Hoyt's memory, his burden, and his stain.
"Maur..." Jane said self-consciously, trying to pull her hand away.
Maura sighed and released Jane, "One day you'll talk about it. I just hope that I'll be the one you seek for disclosure."
Jane took in the doctor's intoxicating way of dress. Maura had never once appeared shy of gorgeous, but tonight she was something else entirely. The English language lacked a word to describe her beauty.
And that dress. That tight blue dress. (Jane's favorite by far.) That dress could rule the world if it wanted too. But it was the woman inside that intrigued her so. The woman who knew the difference between a caduceus and the rod of Asclepius, the woman who knew just how to do funny things to Jane's insides using nothing more than her eyes.
She'd been reluctant to act of her feelings for years, but even the tough detective had to draw the line somewhere. What had she been afraid of for all those years? Rejection? Thinking back, her hesitance made her cringe. She should have known that Maura's reaction wouldn't be in the least negative.
So far, all was well. Except for the amount of nerves in the room. She could sense the anxiety coming from the both of them. What were they so afraid of?
Jane wasn't sure how to go about any of this. She was more than a little rusty in the relationship department. (And Maura's soft, kissable lips were not helping with this frustration.)
And the dress! During a moment of weakness, Jane had let her mother buy her a dress. Of course, Angela had no idea who Jane would be wearing the dress for, but what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. She'd expected her mother to return with something less girlish, but of course not. It seemed that Angela's mission in life was to latently make Jane into the feminine daughter she missed out on. But Maura's reaction was something to behold. She'd actually stunned the doctor to the point of stuttering.
Maura went off on one of her little tangents, spilling out loads of information about the origin of pizza, or something like that. Jane found it difficult to focus on anything she was saying. Instead her eyes were drawn to Maura's lips. (The lips that formed the words revealing time and cause of death.)
Thoughts of kissing the rambling doctor swirled into Jane's brain. She wondered, of all things, what she tasted like; what it'd feel like to tangle her fingers in that perfect hair of hers.
"But interestingly enough, the ancient Greeks had a flat bread they called plakous. I find it endlessly fascinating that people are so willing to believe that pizza in solely Italian."
"Yeah, tell me more."
"The first documented usage of the word 'pizza' was actually in 997 AD. Can you believe it? I am in awe of what human beings can do."
Only Maura Isles could find beauty in the ancient documentations of pizza.
"It didn't even make it to the United States until the late nineteenth century. And to think, now pizza is more common than most foods created here."
"That's... great, Maur."
"And with all the innovations we've made. You can have anything you want as a topping. Pineapple, olives, salami, bacon, anchovies- even- I once heard a rumor that a man had octopus on his slice."
Jane made a face, "Gross."
"On the contrary, Jane. Octopus is quite delicious. You must try it some time."
"I think I'll pass."
Maura sighed, "You don't care about the artistry of pizza, do you? You're just being polite."
"No, no. I found it very... educational?"
The doctor shook her head, clearly displeased with herself, "I guess I'm a little nervous."
You and me both.
"It's an interesting hormone, Cortisol, I mean. It's released wh-"
Jane reached her hand out and captured a strand of the doctor's silky hair.
That sure silenced her
The detective tucked the strand out of Maura's eyes, an age-old trick that yet again proved its merit. This was a date, and now the both of them knew that for certain.
Maura opened her mouth as if to say something more, but Jane beat her to the punch. All at once (because if she hesitated, she'd surely lose her nerve) she leaned in and pressed her lips against Maura's.
If anything, it was a test. A test to see whether or not Maura was ready for that sort of thing (Jane sure felt she was going out on a limb just trying it).
But much to her surprise (but not at all to Maura's), the doctor returned the kiss with an exuberance Jane didn't even know she possessed. And god, was she good at it.
The hands that by day excised organs and wielded a scalpel with expert efficiency now snaked into Jane's unruly dark hair as the doctor initiated an act Jane could see herself getting lost in.
Too late to back out now. (As if that were ever in option in affairs including a certain Isles woman.)
Something awakened in Jane then, something that had remained dormant since just after they had met for the very first time.
With men, it was all about control and dominance, but with Maura everything was fair game. But even with that in mind, Jane couldn't seem to gain control of her movements. Her hands wandered over the doctor's body with secret destinations, of which Jane was not informed.
It was only when Maura deepened the kiss, provoking thoughts of deeds Jane knew for sure she wasn't yet ready for, did Jane pull away, flustered and glowing.
"Maur..."
"I know, Jane."
It was moments like this- the mutual understanding that sometimes even the best of ideas can't be rushed- that blasted away even the slightest wisp of doubt hanging over Jane's head.
But for now, just her closeness is enough.
Ever since day one, Jane had felt it. The invisible current, linking them, and tethering them together. Not even in the cheesy, teen-romance kind of way either. But right now, she felt it. No longer was it a weak, ignorable bond. Now its power was electric, almost painful. But a good pain, the pain that reminds you you're alive.
Maura often daydreamed about Jane Rizzoli and just what it would be like to finally feel those lips against her own; to finally discover what it felt like to rake her fingers through that dark mane of uncontrollable curls; to finally fully appreciate what she tastes like.
Finally. Finally. Finally.
The simple, three-syllable adverb rang through her head, repeating relentlessly- the end melting into the beginning- until it began to fuse into a comforting hum.
She'd have held the detective tighter, but suffocation wasn't all that romantic. Jane sat close beside her, resting her head on Maura's chest.
For a fleeting moment, the doctor wondered if Jane could hear her spastic heartbeat. She was no longer nervous, not in the least bit (Jane's soft lips had incinerated what was left of her nerves), but now was filled with a joyful excitement.
Maura stroked Jane's hair, feeling a combination of elated and contented.
This. This is what perfection is in the natural world. Jane...
The grand doorbell sounded, startling the both of them out of their (counterpart-caused) trances. Maura stood and grabbed her wallet out of her purse.
Jane looked about ready to protest even the idea of Maura paying, but the doctor simply shot her a glance that said 'Don't you dare.'
Jane didn't need any elaboration.
The teenage delivery boy (blond and floppy, as most boys are at that age) stared at the doctor in awe when she opened the door. He practically tripped over his own words as he told the total. His cheeks reddened when she handed him a twenty and let him the change.
Maura shook her head and smiled. She was endlessly fascinated by human interaction. It seemed that the instances to be observed never ceased.
Like now for example.
Jane chuckled as Maura set the pizza box on the table.
"Why are you laughing?"
"I think he liked you."
"I find that his behavior is consistent with that of many other males when they first come in contact with someone like myself. It's only natural, I suppose, of boys, I mean."
I'm rambling again. When will it end?
Jane smiled towards the ground, "But they never had a chance, did they?"
Maura shook her head, "Oh, never."
"That's what I like to hear," Jane said, moving in closer.
She captured the doctor's lips with her own, for another soft kiss before taking her seat opposite the doctor.
Jane took from her half- pepperoni and sausage- while Maura selected a slice from her healthier half. The two ate in almost complete silence, not feeling the need to fill the quiet air between them with unnecessary words.
They met each other's eyes, exchanging silent words that only they could perceive from each other's looks.
Yes, this is how it's supposed to be.
Maura beamed at the woman before her, the brave, intelligent, and beautiful woman who had easily earned a permanent place in her life as well as her heart.
It had been a long time coming, sure, but if given the choice of the long or the short of it, Maura wouldn't even hesitate. There wasn't a single second of their years of partnership that she'd take away. The long version is always much, much better.
She caught Jane's eyes once more and couldn't help but imagine what the future held for them.
Finally.