This is just a little something that was floating around my mind. I'm pretty sure it's just a one-shot, but you never know.
I have to give credit where credit is due, and would like to thank my buddy for trying to teach me all I need to know about grammer while she proofed this for me. You're a peach.
I don't own Rizzoli or Isles. If I did, there'd be way more smooching.
Oh - about the title. It was just going to be called "Intermission" but then this popped in my head and I couldn't resist. It's hilarious, I know. Thanks.
"Jane, stop it. I'm trying to concentrate." Maura huffed at the brooding detective, never taking her eyes from the television screen.
Jane made a face at the Medical Examiner's profile which didn't go unnoticed by the blonde. Pretending to ignore Jane's antics was often a losing battle. At times, if Maura ignored her it would cue Jane to act more appropriate to her age. Other times, being disregarded would incite the brunette detective to 'up her game' and become more and more unruly, much like an overtired toddler.
This was clearly one of Jane's more immature moments. Despite Maura's best efforts to pay attention to what she considered a fascinating look inside the unique feeding habits of the blue catfish, it was a losing battle trying to ignore her lover.
First, Jane began to cross her eyes. This was her most common tactic. Once ignored, she'd move on to sticking her tongue out in various ways. Maura found it to be the most adorable when she kept her eyes crossed and stuck her tongue out to the side. When that didn't gain Maura's attention, Jane would sigh once. Loudly. The sighs would increase in frequency and become more and more dramatic. Following the sighs came the tapping.
The tapping, both monstrous and methodical, was always a lovely reminder of Jane's musical abilities. It was clearly the work of a former piano child prodigy, as Jane could keep time better than any metronome. She'd start by gently tapping her leg, her long index finger rhythmically hitting her denim-covered slender thigh. Eventually, she'd add a melody rhythm, the fingers of her right hand grazing over her other leg. It was if she was playing a concert hall concerto right there in her living room.
As much as Maura appreciated her talent, especially when she was showcasing her rhythmic abilities in the bedroom, it was incredibly distracting when there was another task at hand.
If the tapping didn't get the desired attention from Maura, Jane would resort to her last tactic. This one, regardless of Maura's determination to ignore it, always worked. Without fail.
It would start with Jane holding her breath. Maura's stomach would flutter when she would hear the dark-haired woman cease to breathe with the anticipation of what would come next. Her heart pounding, she'd try valiantly to focus on whatever just a few seconds ago had foolishly seemed more important than Jane.
Jane, still breathless, would extend one long arm into Maura's space and gently begin to trace the outline of her jaw. It didn't matter where Jane started this – whether it be in the car, in Maura's office, in the elevator, the bathroom at the Dirty Robber, etc. It had the same effect, every time.
Maura would feel the blood rush to her face, as if Jane's very touch consumed her and set her afire. She'd try to maintain a bit of dignity, and would attempt pathetically to shrug her off. Sometimes, she'd add an annoyed huff in a thinly-veiled attempt to have the tall detective leave her be.
More often, she'd find herself tilting her head to the side to allow Jane easier access to her neck. Jane's slender fingers always obliged, liberally stroking every available inch of Maura's pale skin.
Today, Maura crossed her arms stiffly. She was determined to continue watching her documentary, regardless of Jane's diversionary maneuvers. When Jane's hand meandered into her space, Maura grabbed it firmly and held it between her own. This stalled the tall detective for a moment, and Maura enjoyed the peace and quiet while the brunette contemplated her next move.
The blue catfish swam dreamily around on the television, and Maura smirked as she saw, out of the corner of her eye, a pout settle across Jane's face.
"Maura." Jane whined, throwing her head back against the sofa cushions. Her hair fanned messily across her shoulders like untamed vines.
"Shh," Maura hissed, never taking her eyes from the television.
"This is so boring," Jane continued. She struggled unsuccessfully to pull her hand free from Maura's grasp.
"Be quiet," Maura demanded. "And pay attention. You might learn something."
"I don't care about stupid fish," Jane muttered, continuing her pout. "I swear, you make me watch these shows as punishment. Is this about your sweater getting put in the dryer?"
"Shh," Maura's patience was clearly at its breaking point.
"Because I told you that was an accident. I didn't try to shrink it so it would fit snugly across your voluptuous breasts," Jane continued, grinning.
"Please stop talking," the blonde replied.
"Maura!" Jane raised her voice, flailing around on the couch.
"Is it possible for you to sit quietly and behave for five minutes?" Maura asked, finally annoyed enough to give the detective her full attention. "I have serious concerns about your inability to settle yourself. You are acting as if this very expensive sofa is a bucking bronco."
"I'm bored," Jane answered defensively.
The blonde huffed. "I'm sorry that I bore you."
"You don't bore me. This dumb show does." the brunette grumbled. "Sorry for wanting a little of your attention."
Maura looked upon her lover fondly. "Really, Jane." Smiling, she continued. "If you'd like my attention, try asking for it instead of throwing a tantrum and acting like a demented toddler."
Jane frowned. "Fine." She glanced at Maura, her dark eyes skeptical. "Maura, could I please have some of your attention?"
Maura glanced at the television and saw that a commercial was on. Turning on the couch, she climbed into Jane's lap and sat so she was facing the detective.
Jane grinned as Maura settled into place and leaned forward so their chests were pressed together. She placed a quick kiss to Jane's long neck, pausing to nibble at the detective's prominent collarbone.
"Jane, did you know that in the 1960's, an hour long television program would actually contain fifty-one minutes of content?" Maura paused to rock her hips into Jane's and plant another kiss, this one less delicate, to her neck.
"Uh, sure," Jane murmured as she ran her hands underneath the blonde's shirt. She tried to suavely unhook Maura's bra, but her hands kept trembling in response to the blonde's rocking hips against her owns and the feel of her soft mouth running up and down her neck.
"You did know that?" Maura asked, pulling back to look Jane in the eyes. Jane nodded vaguely and Maura smiled triumphantly. "I'm proud of you! You were paying attention to the 'History of Television' documentary we watched on Netflix last night."
Jane nodded again in response. In reality, she hadn't absorbed anything during that particular program. She had spent the entire hour thinking of interesting sexual positions for car sex she could get Maura into if they went ahead and purchased that little Mini Cooper that Maura had her eye on. So far, the 'backwards-bent-donkey' seemed to be the most difficult. They'd have to try that one on yoga day.
"Well, then you should know that today, the average hour-long program has only forty-two minutes of program content. The other eighteen minutes consist of advertising materials for commercial breaks." Maura's hand gracefully crept underneath Jane's shirt and took a firm hold on her breast. Her other arm snaked behind Jane's head. She firmly held the detective in place as she groped her, her hips never ceasing their movement.
"Wow." It was all Jane could think of to say. Wow was all that she felt, as well. Completely enveloped in all things Maura, Jane was in heaven. It was all she had been hoping for, to be the sole object of her lover's attention.
"My point, Jane, is that we have approximately one minute and five seconds left of this commercial break. Make the best of it."
And with that, Maura's hand boldly snaked its way into Jane's pants and found itself engulfed in wet heat. Jane hissed into the blonde's ear, her fingers finding purchase on Maura's hips.
Though no pianist, Maura had rhythm of her own. Rhythm was the simple application of mathematics and Maura excelled at finding the common denominator that resulted in providing Jane with the most pleasure possible.
Jane held onto the blonde's hips for dear life as Maura moved her fingers inside of her. Deftly sliding in and out, Maura added the twisting motion she knew Jane adored. Her breath hot against Jane's neck, the detective closed her eyes and allowed her head to hit heavily against the back of the couch cushion.
"Oh," Maura said, suddenly stopping the motion of her fingers. "The show is back on." She pulled her hand out of Jane's pants and smiled at her lover. Jane was staring at her wide-mouthed, much like a catfish.
"You've got to be kidding me." Jane sputtered, her face flushed. Her chest heaved with the effort to return her breathing back to normal.
"No, I'm not." Maura smiled. Turning her attention back to the program, she waited with anticipation for the next commercial break. True, it would have been much more kind – not to mention more fun – to finish what she had started, but someone needed to give Jane a taste of her own medicine.
Plus, it would be very interesting to see what antics Jane displayed during the next nine minutes of programming.