Set after "Killer in Heels"
I couldn't stop tapping my pencil against the surface of my desk, the cadence even and quick. My mind was so exhausted and jumbled I couldn't tell you my own badge number if I wanted to. My leg bounced mercilessly against my desk; I'd hit my knee a couple of times on the open drawer, but that hadn't deterred me. The photograph and file in front of me blurred as my thoughts drifted inwards.
Darkness, punching, struggling, yelling.
I shook my head, focusing my attention back to the papers. The words were now squiggles and odd, yet familiar, lines on the sheet.
More struggling and tresses of blonde bouncing under force.
My knuckles whitened as I curled my hands into fists; my scars taut, my palms ached. I could feel how furrowed my brows were; it was making me sick. My pencil snapped, pulling me from my thoughts. I stretched open my hand and looked at the mangled rod of timber and lead. I could hear the hiss of my shallow inhales and exhales growing in amplitude and in speed as I stared at the broken object. Rolling it out of my palm, I closed my eyes and took deep cleansing breaths; ones Maura had taught me.
It was quiet, the bullpen empty. Frost had left some forty minutes ago- two hours ago.
The unwelcomed hand of emotion gripped at my throat and dug its nails in. It burned and I tried to swallow it away.
The sound of the elevator doors opening made me give pause; my body stiffened, tensing, as I listened.
Clack...clack...clack...clack.
My pulse slowed, as did my breathing. My brows relinquishing their deep pull as my body relaxed, yet I still didn't move.
The steps continued on the carpet, slow, not cautious but respectful.
I could feel her.
"Jane?" she called her customary angelic lull of a voice.
I looked at her.
She looked back at me, her hazel twinkling with interest, surely wondering why I remained, a faint rim of yellow still encircled her eye, as her lips held onto the question mark she'd placed at the end of my name.
"There were some things I wanted to look at again. It's uh, taken me awhile to digest it," I told her.
She propped herself against the ledge of my desk, ready to listen as she tilted her head to the side.
I rubbed the horrifying distractions from my eyes and for some reason just kept my hands against my face.
"How long have you been looking at these?" she asked.
"A couple hours," I said and dropped my hands away. I looked back to her and had the sudden need to touch her.
I reached my hand out, placed it on hers, and gave a side smile. She gave me a lopsided, sympathetic one in return.
There was a moment of silence before she pushed herself from my desk.
"Wait," I jumped too quickly, rising from my chair, my hand clasping her wrist.
She looked at me with inquisitive eyes, her head tilting to the side once again.
The air was suddenly thick-no- too present in the space between us.
I struggled to find what I wanted to say. I honestly didn't have anything to say, I just didn't want her to leave quite yet.
The hand that had taken hold my throat moments ago now pressed upon my lungs as I stared into her eyes.
I took a step forward, thinking, believing that it would let me breathe. So I took another, and then another.
Each step proved to release the tightness in my chest and I soon found myself completely in her space, hovering over her as she tilted her chin up, our eyes unwavering.
I hesitated only for a moment before my hand found its way into her hair.
Her lips parted and the few lights in the office basked her in a soft, golden glow.
She reached as I lowered and our lips came together in the subtlest of ways. The light pressure would have tickled if not for the tingle of electricity.
Although I had formally initiated the interaction, her parted lips closed around mine first. It was warm- she was warm, and so incredibly soft. My eyes lolled shut and so did hers. I sucked a little before she released me with a smack, keeping her lips on mine. I delicately brushed my lips back and forth over hers before closing around them. The faint scent of cherry and the overwhelming aroma of Maura, paired with the tandem warm, velvety texture of her glossed lips, caused the floor to drop from beneath me.
We took turns, opening, closing, and brushing in an unhurried, excruciatingly, slow manner. Both of my hands were now in her hair, as hers wove into mine. Our noses even brushed along each other, as we pressed a little deeper, slowly losing ourselves in the most beautiful dance of patience, understanding, longing, and serenity.
While our movements remained languid, our breathing increased. We puffed against the other's upper lip, while we parted with our smack a little louder, all timidness now gone.
My breath hitched in surprise when her tongue made its first swipe at my lower lip and her hands traveled down to my neck. I took initiative this time and as she parted, I slipped my tongue to gently caress hers. She smiled into the kiss before a hum of gratitude, followed quickly by an uninhibited moan, escaped deep from within her. My hands now caressed her back and I smiled.
Her hands slid lower, down to my blouse, and grasped a fist full of the material, pulling me closer. Her talented tongue found purchase within my mouth and gently massaged and coaxed a moan from me. She smiled again.
All I wanted to do was keep kissing her.
So I did.
Minutes, tens of minutes ticked past, as our lips and tongues continued to meet as we stood against each other in the bullpen of the homicide unit.
Eventually, our explorations tapered, tongues no longer searched or plundered, lips grew tired until they were barely able to pucker.
In a lazy haze, I placed one last kiss against her lips and rested my forehead to hers. She sighed contently, her hands still gripping my shirt and nuzzled into the crook of my neck.
With her warm body pressed to mine, I felt calm, tranquil, relaxed.
Looking down, I tucked a strand of blonde behind her ear. She pulled back and looked at me, with dark eyes and kiss-swollen lips.
"Come home with me."
"Alright," I said.