A/N - This story takes place in the Boston universe. Don't know what that is? Check out my profile and catch up with the installments. Specifically, this takes place after "Orange Colored Sky," the most recent chapter in the Boston series.
As always, thanks and have fun reading.
Tahitian Sunset
Somewhere out in the distance, the thunder roared, demanding attention.
Maura Isles ignored the impending weather. Standing on the sturdy porch of her father's summer home in Tahiti, the storm was nothing more than a distant worry. Ominous clouds bubbled in the foreground in response to the storm gathering steam, yet Maura remained focused on her two loves playing in the sand near the still blue shoreline. Playful waves kissed the white beach on a continuous rhythm, never ceasing.
Her lover – and now newly titled wife – played in the sand with their son, Bartholomew, following close behind. Amusing herself with the task of making a sandcastle, Jane Rizzoli used each and every one of the tools littered around her and the baby to achieve her goal. Unable to properly assist his mother, Bart continued to investigate the world around him with his own tool: his gaping maw of a mouth.
With a smile, Maura made her way toward them. Wind lashed at her bare legs, whipping the shoulder-length blonde locks around her face. The ribbons keeping her bikini from coming undone danced around her waist and neck.
"There's no point, y'know."
Jane turned to address her blonde lover with a glare. "Don't be such a defeatist. We have plenty of time."
Maura looked up at the doom and gloom brewing above their heads. "Nature doesn't have a timetable."
Thunder continued to grumble and growl above like a petulant child, threatening the moment of relaxation between the couple and their young son.
"It's gonna rain, honey."
"So?"
"So…" Maura exaggerated. "You don't care?"
Jane shrugged before taking a drool covered plastic shovel from the mouth of the giggling baby. "It's been raining off and on since we got here three weeks ago. It only makes sense after the picturesque setting of Santorini for the wedding we'd have to endure the weather from hell for our honeymoon."
"I thought it would be fun to take Bart with us this time since he didn't get to come after Clementine's death."
"Well, duh," Jane smirked, ignoring the sudden gust of wicked wind that lashed white sea-foam to their faces. "He wasn't even a twinkle in your eye back then."
Maura shook her head, turning her attention to Bart's toothless grin. Unperturbed by the gloomy weather rolling in, invading their private island paradise, he continued to assist Jane with the sandcastle forming in front of him.
"And what about you, Bart?" Maura asked in a sing-song manner as she knelt down to cuddle their son's toffee colored cheeks. "Do you want to stay outside with Mommy Jane or come inside with Mommy Maura? I made cookies. You love my cookies don't you? So yummy-yummy, aren't they?"
Bart burbled in excitement. His springy curls bobbed like a hyper child in the unrestrained joy of potentially getting a rare sweet treat from his health-conscious mother.
Jane raised an eyebrow. "And what kind of cookies are we talking about?"
"Well…what does that mean?"
"Maura…you know that your idea of a 'cookie' is making homemade graham crackers. And not even flavored graham crackers. I'm talking those pre-20th century graham crackers made without any sugar whatsoever. Does that sound like a treat to you?"
"I thought you liked my homemade graham crackers?"
"Unless the spirit of W. K. Kellogg himself randomly inhabited my body against my will, I'm pretty sure I never said that about those flavorless bricks you call graham crackers," Jane replied wittily, forming a tall sand tower with her hands.
"Bart likes my graham crackers, thank you very much."
Jane guffawed. "Because he's four months old, Maura. He'll eat anything that he can put in his mouth and attempt to chew."
As the women chatted in their unique bantering way, the ocean spewed up foam in response to the gusts of wind rising in increasing intensity. Each second churned the darkened expanse of ocean into a dangerous abyss, matching Mother Nature's own tempestuous mood. Another clash of thunder, this time accompanied by an answering bolt of lightning painted across the dusky sky, finally brought Jane and Maura's attention to the fitful heavens.
"We're going to have to leave aren't we?"
"Leave what?" Maura asked, playing dumb.
"This. Our little insulated paradise."
Maura smiled. "We can't honeymoon forever, Jane. I need to go back to work. Bart misses his swimming classes. And god knows you must miss Korsak and the gang, not to mention your family. Angela hasn't seen us since the wedding, after all."
"I guess…"
"You are a sergeant detective now. Responsibilities abound with a big boy title like that. Aren't you excited?"
Jane made a small sound of disbelief. "Would you be?"
"Of course," Maura exclaimed in her usual cheery way. "Being a sergeant means you're a leader now. People will be looking at you now for guidance in a way they wouldn't have before. Frankie and Riley, in particular, are going to depend on you to craft them into first-class detectives."
Tucking her wild locks behind her ear, Jane returned her focus back to the task of building a sandcastle. Bart crawled to Maura's outstretched arms as another clap of lightning streamed across the steel grey sky. Comforting the small child, Maura observed her tense wife with an understanding smile.
"It's okay to be scared of your new responsibilities, Jane."
"I'm not scared," Jane frowned, eyebrows furrowed. "I don't even think I know how to be scared."
"Really? You seemed pretty scared before you said 'I do,' if I remember correctly. And that's just a recent memory."
Jane rolled her eyes. "That was a big moment, a once in a lifetime experience. Getting promoted is completely different. Being promoted doesn't equate fear. I'm not scared, Maura."
"Fine, fine, fine. Not scared. Apprehensive a better word, then?"
"What about you?" Jane asked, changing the subject. "Aren't you a little apprehensive about Bart being with a nanny for the first time? You know no nanny will ever be as attentive as you are with him, right? Does that scare you, Maura?"
Maura twitched slightly just as another burst of thunder rang out. "Honestly?"
"Yeah, honestly."
"Of course. More than I'd like to admit. But I know that if I stay at home full time, I might just go crazy with boredom," Maura stated, playing with Bart's springy curls as the baby burbled baby-talk in his sleep. "Bart would want both of us to be happy. Working keeps me happy. Staying home and taking care of his every whim and need may satisfy my irrational needs as a result of my own lack of motherly influence but it's hardly realistic."
"And?"
Maura narrowed her eyes. "And…what?"
"Don't forget about how you'd miss solving cases with me and the team. Can't turn your back on the Murder Posse." Jane made a dramatic face. "Homicide is for life. You'll never leave. Like Korsak. That man is seriously reaching the tail end of his 50s."
Maura smiled. "Don't be mean, Jane."
"It's not mean if it's a fact."
Maura rolled her eyes at her wife's behavior. "Is that what Frankie's calling Homicide now? The Murder Posse?"
"I like it. Makes the team sound cool." Jane motioned toward her finished masterpiece made of sand. "See? What did I tell you? Plenty of time to construct a sandcastle before the rain."
With a laugh, Maura stood up to observe Jane's finished sandcastle. Much like Jane's thought process, there was little to no rhyme or reason to the structures. Big and small towers rose up in various states of stability, the rising tide threatening the flimsy endeavor. Proud of her accomplishment, Jane lifted her slim frame up from the white granules of sand.
"It's nice, isn't it?"
"Are we looking at the same sculpture, Jane?"
"You're not even gonna try to lie to me for my self-esteem?" Jane asked, pouting slightly. "All you have to say is 'It looks great, honey.'"
"So you want me to lie?"
Jane shook her head in disbelief before putting her hand around the blonde's shoulders, guiding them back to the house. "No, since it's clearly still so stressful for you to even attempt to lie. How about we go see what cookies you've made?"
"They're biscotti. So delicious. But what about your sandcastle? I can run inside and get the camera if you want to take a picture of…" Maura made a face as she turned back to look at the sandcastle losing the battle against the stormy tide, "your lackluster attempt to make a sandcastle. Angela would love it."
"Nah," Jane said, grinning ear to ear. "I just wanted to do something fun before we head back to Boston tomorrow."
Maura frowned upon hearing the sadness in Jane's voice. "It's going to be fine, Jane."
"You say that but…I just don't know if I can believe that," Jane replied. "Everything is so different now. I'm married to my best friend, we have a child together, and I'm going to be a sergeant. Not to mention we'll have to start looking for a nanny for Bart and you'll be working alongside me again…will anything ever be 'fine' again?"
"As long as we're together, everything will figure itself out," Maura said, clutching Jane even tighter as Bart released a sleepy giggle.
"God…I hope so. I really hope so."
The family made their way up the stairs to the porch. Just as the two women opened the sliding door, another clash of thunder reverberated through their bodies before the rain unleashed upon the beach. Everything was summarily washed away, yet the singular form of a sandcastle near the shore managed to retain its shape for a brief moment before being taken up by the tide. Jane looked back, just in time to see her creation obliterated by the torrential summer storm.
"I guess nothing can last forever," Jane whispered, shaking her head in silent acceptance.
A/N - If you're a long time reader, you might notice my style of writing has changed. I'm playing around with some new things, fixing problems. If you like, feel free to let me know.
And before anyone leaves a review asking about it, the next installment of the Boston series will be coming...eventually. It's still in the planning stages at the mo'.