A/N: Please excuse this piece of random fluff. It appeared in my head. Anyway, the first part is just to get you to understand the universe they're in. The rest is in an anonymous POV. Sort of like a game. Who's the narrator? Jane or Maura? And try to bear with it; the beginning's a little slow. I know.

Hope you guys like it.

High school sucked. There was no way around that, but there was a small group who'd found safety in each other. Angela and her boyfriend Jack, Maura and her boyfriend Ian, and Jane and her boyfriend Casey.

The girls had all met freshman year in PE. They were the only girls in their class because the school also offered a dance class as an option for the required physical activity. They'd been the only girls who opted to not dance, at least at that early blocking. Their guys had all joined the group by sophomore year.

And there they sat, at lunch, the last week of their senior year.

"Oh God, I'm so worried about AP results…" Maura mused, moving salad with her fork, but not really eating.

Jane snorted, taking a bit of her sandwich.

"Yeah, because little miss genius could get anything less than a five on all of them," she mumbled bitterly through the mouthful of food.

When she looked up, she was met by both Maura's slightly hurt look and Angela's warningly stern one.

"There's nothing you can do about it now, sweetie," she said softly, putting her hands comfortingly over Maura's. "No sense worrying about it now. Just gotta trust that all the work you put in was enough."

Maura gave a tiny smile, her eyes wandering until they locked with Jane's. She saw the guilt shining in those chocolate brown eyes, and she couldn't help but give Jane a reassuring grin. The brunette smiled back, her body relaxing slightly in relief. The moment was broken though, Ian tackling Maura from behind and eliciting a gleeful laugh. Jack and Casey followed more inconspicuously, Jack giving Angela a chaste kiss and Casey sliding next to Jane and taking her hand in his.

"So who's ready for prom?" Jack asked, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

The question sent everyone into a chattering frenzy, discussing dresses and dinner and everything else. Jane just grinned down at the table.

"Oh come on, Rizzoli," Ian teased. "The best part for you'll be watching the dumbass drunks get hauled away by the cops."

She didn't disagree. It gave her joy to know that no matter how sneaky kids became, the cops still busted them. Last year, girls had filled perfume bottles with vodka. Busted. She was still looking forward to going and dancing, just as much as everyone else, though. Even Maura was excited, and she usually fought them to the bitter end when they dragged her to 'social conventions' as she called them.

Our paradise was broken, though. Or at least mine was. My boyfriend had broken up with me; all our friends knew why. I was gay. Really gay, but I never said it out loud. I didn't think I could. But I knew my friends knew. They never asked me why he left, because they didn't have to. What I couldn't figure out, though, was why he'd decided to cut it off two days before prom. I know I should've felt worse than I did, but to be quite honest, even after three years of dating, he meant absolutely nothing to me. Either way, it didn't matter. I found a date. Easily. He was new to the school, but he was nice enough. Looking back, however, I can't seem to even remember his name.

Prom day came, and we went to dinner as planned. My wonderful friends treated the newcomer like they'd known him all their life. They laughed at his jokes, the teased him mercilessly, and through it all, they never felt forcibly nice. It was easy and natural, and sometimes I couldn't fathom it all. Every time I caught them staring at me, they'd just smile warmly at me before continuing to converse with everyone else.

And I'll admit that my date was a gentleman. He held a car door for me, paid for my dinner. It was sweet. Not something I was used to, but it was still sweet.

At the dance, I saw his discomfort. I think it came from a few things. The first was that I'm pretty sure I was the only one he knew. He followed me around like a lost puppy dog, but what else was to be expected? I let him follow, but he hesitated when we went to the dance floor. Maybe kids at his school didn't dance like we did. Okay, calling it dancing was a stretch. Grinding. Maybe he wasn't used to everybody grinding up one each other.

But I could tell that he wanted to dance with me, so I pulled him close, guided his unsure hands to my stomach. I pressed myself against him, giving him enough courage to sway his hips rhythmically against me. It wasn't horrible. I didn't have to look at him; I could pretend he was someone else.

I looked around to make sure my friends hadn't been swept into the mass of people. They hadn't; nope, they were grinning at me from their identical positions in their boyfriends' arms. I knew why they were grinning. I usually didn't take charge. Don't get me wrong, I loved being in control, but I knew that people didn't like being controlled, so I didn't do it very often. But the situation called for it.

The music changed though, and I saw my friends' faces light up. It was our song. Our cheesy hip-hop song that everyone at our school knew by heart, even though it was a horrible song. Everyone started singing at the top of their lungs, including all of us, like normal. But that was the last normal thing that happened for the rest of the night.

Before I knew what was going on, my friends had broken from their significant others, pulled me from my date, and sandwiched me. Sandwiched. Me. I felt all the air in my lungs rush out, my heart beating abnormally hard. Soft hands took a firm hold on my hips, pulling me flush against her until I felt her heartbeat, too. And you know what Angela did? She backed her ass into my hips and wrapped my hands around her. They swayed in unison, moving me with them, the heat of their bodies against me intoxicating. Only problem was, I really couldn't appreciate it.; my mind was racing with so many burning questions. The most prominent one being What the hell were they doing? My hot female friends, who knew I was gay, were basically dry humping me. In front of their boyfriends. The pieces of the puzzle were not fitting together in my head. It just…It didn't make sense.

I felt her breath on my neck, her hands slipping dangerously low on my hips. I felt her thumbs trace circles under my navel, white hot fire flowing through my veins. Those damn hands that always seemed to spark through me every time she touched me. The light dress I was wearing wasn't nearly enough to keep the warmth from her hands from reaching my skin, from reaching my core. There was a whole different pulse rising in me along with my heartbeat, and it was gonna kill me.

A joyous laugh tore through Angela, her toned abs rippling under my hands, as the woman leaned further into me. It brought me back to reality with a startling harshness. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. It was too much too quickly and I couldn't do it. I tore myself from between them, rushing to the nearest bathroom. I knew Angela would stay behind, keep her distance. But her…she'd follow. No matter how much I didn't want her to, she'd be there.

I felt tears burning my eyes before I even slammed open the bathroom door. The few girls that were in there just to talk scurried out past me. I stumbled to the sink, trying to breathe, to get some kind of air to my system. I gripped the counter, hanging my head and letting my hair make a curtain around me. My tears spilled over in waves, no matter how hard I pulled them back. I held in the sobs threatening to escape, instead just standing and shaking with silent tears. I hated her. No. Even thinking it sounded wrong. I couldn't hate her. And that's what I hated.

"Hey," she said.

I couldn't look up.

"What're you doing?" was the best I could manage, my voice shaking as I talked and cried.

"I was worried about you—"

"What were you doing?" I yelled to the floor, my voice cracking.

"Dancing," she almost whispered.

She took a step closer, the loud clack of her heel echoing around the room, leaving behind a deafening silence.

I clenched my jaw, trying to think of what to say, what to ask. How to tell her…But nothing sounded right.

"Are you taunting me? Why would—why did you…?" I trailed off.

"Angela did it, too," she mumbled pathetically.

"She'd do anything if she felt so inclined."

"So you don't care that she did it, but because I did, you're in tears?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Whether it was fishing or an actual question, I didn't know. I still cringed at the question, gripping the counter a little tighter before lifting my head to look her in the eyes. I'm sure I looked pathetic. I'm sure my make-up had run, I'm sure my eyes were bloodshot. I knew it was bad, because she looked back at me, mortified and guilty.

"Because it's…it's not fair. You have him, and if you had him, you could never want me," I mumbled, the words sounding even more pathetic out in the open than they did in my head.

But she didn't laugh. She didn't jump away. Her eyes softened, sadness creeping in.

"You're dumb," she whispered.

In two strides she was pressed against me, those little butterflies in my stomach that I loved so much roaring to life. Her hands were pressed to my cheeks, her thumbs moving gently across my burning flesh. I searched her eyes and they searched back, shining with…well, everything. It's what I loved most about her. Her eyes never hid what she felt; she once told me that mine did the same. Either way, what I saw in those perfect eyes was something I'd seen for a while, I just could never place it. I thought it was admiration or trust or something. But it was love. It was unconditional, unwavering adoration, and I'd missed four whole years having it all to myself.

I'm not sure if she kissed me or I kissed her, but our lips met, and the world disappeared. It was me and her, her lips surprisingly soft against mine as she pulled me in. She pulled me into her farther than I thought I could go, and all I wanted to do was be even closer. I felt her smile into the kiss, and I couldn't help but smile back.

She pulled away slightly, her forehead resting on mine in a moment of silence, before she let out a small laugh. It was an incredulous one, and then we were both crying, like the pathetic, hormonal, completely in love idiots that we were. I knew one thing, though.

I'd have her forever.

A/N: Review, please. Tell me what you think, because I usually don't write in 1st person, and it was a new and difficult experience. Even if you don't like reviewing, at least type one word to me. "Jane" or "Maura" because I want to see if I pulled off what I wanted to. Thanks for reading.