So…I've been feeling kind of sappy lately, and just discovered Ed Sheeran, which has me in a mood. So I wrote this. I highly recommend listening to Ed Sheeran's song "Kiss Me" while reading, so you get the right ambiance.
"Jane, do you need something? I was just about to leave to go meet –" the doctor never got to finish her sentence as wet, rain-slickened lips pressed against hers, strong hands wrapping around her waist bringing her impossibly closer as the detective worked her lips feverishly against the blonde's. Maura dropped her umbrella, not caring that her dress would get ruined by the downpour, all she could think of was Jane Jane Jane lips Jane is kissing me Jane as her carefully manicured hands fisted against Jane's shirt, making sure there was no space between them. She could feel the brunette's heart racing under her fingers, almost as fast as hers, almost, but not quite, beating together to create the most beautiful of harmonies, the warm summer rain adding the gentlest of background tracks. Jane's kisses were desperate, needy, longing, as if Maura was going to disappear at any moment, her hands moving from the doctor's waist to her neck to her face, gently cupping her cheeks, thumbs rubbing along Maura's jawline.
The honey blonde could feel the overwhelming sadness in the kiss as well, and she knew without asking what had prompted the detective to do something so bold, kissing her as she was about to go on a date with someone else. She knew that Jane thought she was going to lose her, lose the love of her life to some man, lose her without ever telling the petite doctor how she felt, how much she loved her. They had been dancing around each other for years, never telling the other how they felt. Sure, they had come close. The last time Ian was in town, Maura had noticed the taller woman acting especially strange, and in the heat of confronting her about it Jane had started to say something, but had stopped a syllable in. Maura knew now that what Jane had really wanted to say, after "he's not good enough for you", had been "but I am".
And the whole Casey debacle, Maura had come so close to finally confessing her feelings. She knew she could never get the whole thing out with Jane staring at her, her patented 'cop stare' never failed to derail any train of thought the ME could ever hope to conjure, so she wrote a letter. In her carefully schooled cursive the honey blonde poured her feelings into the prose, everything she loved about the dark-haired detective, every reason she could come up with why she loved her, why they should be together. But then Jane had shown up at her doorstep, distraught at Casey's decision to leave and undergo that dangerous procedure, Maura knew it was not the time, and knew that she wouldn't lose her best friend to the soldier, not this time anyway. She knew she had time, time to see if Jane felt the same way, time to find the right words, the right situation.
But the right time didn't come, and Maura found herself accepting an invitation to dinner from an old colleague who had relocated to the Boston area. And another. And another.
Jane had seemed happy for her, Marcus was lovely and engaging and funny with dark dark eyes that twinkled when he laughed, just like Jane's, and she found herself almost getting lost in them during their dinners together. But they weren't Jane's, they didn't have that glimmer of Rizzoli mischief, and try as she might, they just didn't draw her in the same way the detective's did.
She had been on her way to date number four with Marcus when she had found Jane outside her door, hair limp and damp from the warm summer rain, dark-blue button up shirt clinging to her from the moisture, leading the doctor to conclude the detective had been standing there for quite a while for that much wetness to accumulate. Jane looked haunted, her eyes hooded with emotion, features sharp from the harsh light of the front porch light, making her cheekbones even more prominent than they usually were.
And now they were back to the present, bodies melded together, no space left between them as they poured all those years of pent up emotion into one another, silently confessing feelings and yearnings and apologies.
They broke apart once all the oxygen in their bodies was depleted, coming back together, pressing their foreheads together as they breathed, each woman feeling the other's warm breath wash over their faces. They looked into each other's eyes, sparkling hazel meeting the deepest of browns.
"Don't leave" Jane rasped, her voice broken and cracked with emotion.
"Never" came Maura's soft, but concrete, reply.