Disclaimer: characters borrowed, blah blah.
A/N: I don't consider myself a writer. First time really writing something - felt really inspired by all the amazing Rizzles fics here. (Scared shitless of putting it out there, so please be gentle!). Haven't figured out exactly where this story will be going, so any help/suggestions would be much appreciated. Thanks for reading!
The first time they had slept next to each other – and really next to each other, not just on opposite sides of the same bed, which happened all the time really – was that night they fell asleep watching that documentary. That documentary about the lost tribes of the Amazon, to be precise, that Maura had picked out and then fallen asleep mid-way through, her breaths evening out and her head dropping lower and lower till it rested on Jane's shoulder. Not that Jane had been hyperaware of Maura's body next to her or anything.
(How could she not be? With Maura in that impossibly tiny, impossibly silky white dressing gown, freshly showered for their Girls Night In, wafting a trail of some flower or the other with every movement, so beautiful even without makeup on, making Jane feel even more of a dud than usual for being in sweatpants and a ratty old tee.)
The serenity of that moment – the TV blaring comfortingly on, the blanket covering them both soft, the temporary slowing down of the swirling world that Friday night – meant that Jane could allow herself to close her eyes for just one second while the commercials were on. And then the next thing she knew, the documentary was long over and late night infomercials were on and Maura was rustling against her, her voice hoarse with sleep.
"Jane. Jane, lie down."
"Maur-"
"Just lie down."
Jane lowered her body along the couch. She could never really say no to Maura, but why would she want to. She was groggy with sleep and nothing could beat this feeling of giving in and stretching out on the couch, when suddenly. Suddenly, Maura's body was flush against hers, wriggling to fit into the curve that Jane's was making. And then Maura's hand found her hand, pulling Jane's arm around them both.
"Relax, Jane."
Jane exhaled. She had not been aware of holding her breath, but that's what she must have been doing because of how long it took to empty her lungs. She grew braver as the tension seeped out of her muscles, grew brave enough to nuzzle her nose into Maura's hair. That smell. Flowers. Wine. Home. Her last memory before drifting into sleep was of Maura sighing in contentment.
When she woke up the next morning, there was a Maura-shaped dent in the couch in front of her, and the smell of breakfast cooking.