I have never been one to be possessive. In any past relationship, if I witnessed someone flirting or checking out my partner, I would rationalize it to them being attractive. To me, it would was a sign that I was with someone desirable. As my hazel eyes watch this redheaded rookie cop giggle at everything Jane says, I feel almost animalistic. It takes everything in me not to insert myself into their conversation and claim that long neck as mine. A shimmer from the diamond on my left hand brings me back to the fact that I am crouched over a deceased male. The ring on my finger symbolizes that I am Jane's and she is mine. My eyes zero in on the gold band on her left hand. I let out a small chuckle. I wanted to get her a ring as beautiful as the one she had given me. We actually fought over it for awhile. She insisted that it was unnecessary. Jane could not understand why I wanted to place a diamond on her thin finger. It still kills me that she does not know how breath taking I find her. I wanted something to symbolize her beauty. In the end, she won. It's a rarity that she does not give into my wishes. She would give me the world if I asked and I would do the same. Our love, it had been growing since we first met and I do not think it will ever stop.
I shake my head and look down at the dead body. This is why we are here. I try my best to regain focus and catalogue all the reddish brown stains on the carpet below him. Every time I think I have forgotten about the flirtatious uniform, I hear her laugh again. Each time I steal a glance at Jane, I notice that she does not look as if she is trying to make her laugh. Jane is typically serious while at a crime scene. Though, on the rare occasion like today, she is in a good mood. It is just who she is. I learned that about her over the years of her just being my best friend. We figured out certain tells about each other, her being able to read me easier than I her. Now we are married and still learning things about each other. As I try to focus once again, another uniform runs past me, effectively knocking me over. Before I can even process what had happened, Jane is by my side. She helps me to my feet. My mind is so caught up with thinking of the uniform that knocked me over and the redhead that has been fawning over my wife for the last ten minutes, that I cannot even hear Jane speaking to me. When she brings her left hand to rest against my cheek, I instantly find a sense of comfort and tranquility in her touch.
"Marua, are you okay?"
I nod my head and relish in Jane's close proximity.
"Are you sure?" She asks, always the worrier.
"Yes, Jane, I am quite alright."
She nods her head and removes her hand from my face. Instantaneously, I miss the feeling.
"Jane?" The voice comes from the redheaded uniform and my frustration levels increase.
When her hand comes up to caress my wife's arm to get her attention, I almost lose it. I do not like this feeling of jealousy. To me it is an ugly trait, one that I used to reprimand Jane for until I found the pleasurable repercussions that normally come from it. Sure, I have watched people check her out, but none of them have had the audacity to blatantly flirt with her in front of me. I think it is because of how Jane holds herself. That and she carries a gun. Would you want to say the wrong thing to an armed woman? Most people that we work with even find her unapproachable. At times, I can agree but that is when she is completely irate. I feel like being with me has softened her a bit, but I will never tell her that.
Jane turns to answer the woman, leaving me to go back to examining the body. Knowing that I will not be able to do any more without opening him up, I call them to start taking him back to the morgue. When I go to tell Jane that I am leaving, I see the uniform once again trying to get Jane's attention. I watch as she slips a piece of paper into Jane's jacket pocket. Anger boils within me. There is not many people in our area that does not know her and I are married. Even the uniforms watching the redhead doing this are in complete shock. They look over at me, expecting me to do something, but I just walk away. Part of me is angry at the rookie uniform, but the other is mad at Jane. How could she be so oblivious to the attention she was getting? Jane will probably play it off like it was nothing. The phone number that was slipped into her pocket will say different. So, I get in the car and drive away, not telling my wife good-bye as I usually do.
When I get back to the morgue, I dive into my work in the desperate attempt to take my mind off of my bubbling jealousy. I know that Jane would never hurt me like that. She loves me, but that does nothing for the small portion of my brain that keeps asking me if I am sure. Jane and I do not have the perfect relationship, but who does? We get into arguments and even go to bed angry at times. Though in the night, we drift together because that is what we do. In the morning things do not seem as serious as they did the night before. Sometimes our communication lacks, but we always try to say what we mean. There are even times we pick a fight because we have not spent much quality time together due to grueling cases. I shake my head at the thoughts. Jane would never... Would she?
I start to pull off all of my gear after I finish my autopsy. Then it happens, I start to feel tears welling in my eyes. Who knew that unlike a normal person, when I get jealous I also get weepy. When Jane gets this way, she has to make sure I know that I am her's. All I want is for Jane to draw me in her arms and explain away all my insecurities. Quickly, I hide in my office. I close all the blinds and sit at my desk, staring at my computer. My eyes glance from my screen to my notes and tape recorder that holds all of my findings. Tears start to fall but I wipe them away. Normally, I can dive myself into my work to distract myself, but today is not one of those days. I pull out my phone sending Jane a quick text asking her if she can come to my office when she gets a moment. She responds telling me to give her five minutes. I try to stop myself from crying, but I fail. Normally, I do well at controlling and containing my emotions. There was just something about watching that random woman put her hands on my wife. It threw me off. I no longer feel possessive. I feel insecure with no reason. Right now, Jane and I are great. We try to have weekly date nights. Maybe things are getting too routine. We don't do anything spontaneous anymore. Even when we have sex. Wait.. When was the last time we made love? I cannot even remember. Work has been busier than normal. There is something about warm weather that makes our crime rate soar. I let out a long sigh just before my door opens.
"What's up, Maura? I only have a few minutes. We have to follow up on a lead." She says before she even lets her eyes take me in.
When she notices the tears that are collecting in the corners of my eyes, she quickly shuts the door and is by my side. Jane pulls me up out of my chair and into her arms. They wrap around me, holding me tight. My arms slip around her and I bury my face into her chest. Before I can stop it, a sob wracks my body and she places a soft kiss in my hair. I can tell she has forgotten all about her lead and is solely focused on calming me down. Jane lets me cry into her shirt, not caring that my tears are staining her shirt. She slowly moves us over to the couch in my office, lowing us until I am settled atop her, straddling her. My face moves to her snuggle into her neck, her unique scent combined with how tight her arms are around me, I start to calm down.
"Baby, are you ready to tell me what's wrong?" She mutters into my hair, after placing a soft kiss there.
I shake my head as I lean back, gazing at her. Those brown orbs are so full of love and worry that I am afraid that I will start to cry again.
"I'm fine." I lie, knowing that hives will break out any moment.
She pulls my collar down, exposing said hives and gives me this all knowing look.
"Maur?" She questions.
"I just needed you to hold me for a few minutes. I'm better now." I tell her, not really lying. I did need her.
"But why did you need me to hold you? Why were you crying?"
I bring my hands up to play with the lapels of her blazer before they make their way down to her pockets. My fingers find the paper that was placed in there hours ago. I pull it out and mess with it, not being able to meet her gaze.
"What is this?" She asks, taking it from my grasp.
When she reads the phone number and whatever the cop had written with it, I watch as her connect all the pieces in that Detective brain of her's.
"Office Giggles."
"She was flirting with you all morning, putting her hands all over you." I mumble, still not being able to look at her in the eyes.
Jane brings her left hand up to tilt my chin, my tear filled hazel eyes finally meeting her's for the first time in five minutes.
"I didn't even notice."
"You never do." I laugh. "I noticed though."
She leans in close and places a soft kiss on my lips. I bring my hands up to bury them in her unruly curls and deepen it, needing to feel her love. When we need to breathe, she places her forehead on mine.
"I never notice because I'm always too busy staring at you."
"You weren't this morning." I counter.
"What?"
"You engaged in her conversation."
Jane shakes her head. "I was being nice. It was her first day in our district. She was transferred."
"She looked at you like she could have you and I didn't like it." My voice is small. I am not used to feeling this way. I have always been confident, but here sitting on Jane's lap, I feel insecure.
Jane holds my face in her hands and gives me another kiss, "I love you, Maura, and.." Her phone rings.
"You've got to go. I understand."I tell her, feeling silly that I have kept her from doing her job.
"I can stay if you need me too. You are.."
I cut her off, "No, go. Be safe and I love you too."
She gives me one more gentle kiss before I extract myself from her lap. As soon as she stands up, I miss the closeness. I can tell she is reluctant to leave me, but I give her a nod. She closes the door behind her and I am left alone, with my thoughts.
When I get home, I let out a sigh. I did not get to see Jane for the rest of the day. With it being so early in the case, she probably will not be home at a decent time. My day was filled with silence and a lot of thinking. Jane and I have been together for almost two years and I have never questioned her feelings for me. I know it is silly to let some random pretty uniform question the love that is cherished between us. I just cannot get it out of my head. What if one day someone does turn her head? My looks may fade as I continue to age. I know Jane does not love me for how I look, but in my line of work.. You see what happens when a spouse gets bored. I do not know how many men and women I have autopsied because of cheating. They are messy, crimes of passion always are.
Walking to the door, it feels like a heavy weight is on my shoulders. I just want to go in here, shower, and sleep for twelve hours. As I unlock the door, the scene that meets my eyes makes my heart flutter. Rose petals line the floor leading up to Jane holding two glasses of wine.
"Welcome home, Baby." She smiles, offering me a glass.
I take it from her hands, "I didn't think you would be home."
Candles flicker around us and the smell of our favorite pizza place hits me.
"There are other people on this case. Plus, my wife needed me."
I take a step towards her, one arm wrapping around her slim waist.
"Shall, we go eat?"
She shakes her head and leads me to the dining room. Pizza is already plated, the wine bottle is open on the table. Candle sticks are lit. This is so Jane. She does not cook elaborate meals or surprise me with extravagant things. None of those things do I need or want. She is all I need. She surprises me with flowers at work or she will clean up the house when she knows I have had back to back autopsies even though I know she is exhausted from working just as much. She does a bunch of little things, just to see me smile. Pizza with my favorite person on this Earth is all I need right now.
Jane pulls out my chair and allows me to take my seat before she takes her's. The conversation between us is light hearted and easy. My former mounting insecurities slowly start to slip away. She pours me more wine as I tell her about the latest article I read. When we first met, I never thought she listened to a word I said. Then I realized that she listened to every word I have ever said. She soaked it up like she is doing now.
"Thank you, Jane." I tell her.
She nods in response as she starts to clear the dishes. I follow her to the kitchen. Smirk, I move her out of the way and begin to wash off the plates. She comes up behind me, wrapping herself around my body. The soft kisses she is placing on my neck are enough to make me stop what I am doing. I crane my neck to give her more access. Her hands move upwards, kneading my breasts. A moan escapes my lips when I feel her teeth on my delicate flesh. She spins me around quickly, digesting me of my dress. Standing half naked in my kitchen is not something I do normally, but as a Jane Rizzoli nips her way down my body, I do not mind at all. She lifts me up on the counter, my legs wrapping around her torso. Fingers slip behind me, unclasping my bra. Her lips meet mine in a frenzied kiss and rough hands squeeze my full breasts just right that it leaves my panties completely drenched. My fingers try to unbutton her shirt, in a frustrated attempt to feel her skin. When the final button is undone, I push off it off her shoulders and pull her tank top over her head. I moan at the feeling of her warm skin against mine, as I rock my core against her abs in the desperate attempt for some friction. Soon, her pants are off and we are both left in just are delicates in the middle of our kitchen. A strangled scream leaves me when I feel her warm mouth envelop a nipple. I cradle her head to my chest. God the things this woman does to me with that tongue. When she switches to my other rosy peak. I rock my hips.
"Jane, please, touch me." I beg.
Fingers come down to touch me over my wet lace. It never fails for her to get me this wet. I could cum just listening to her speak. Everything that the woman who is worshiping my body does to me, it is life affirming. When her lips leave my chest, she places soft kisses down my stomach. I watch as she drops down to her knees. Never have I been more grateful for her height than right now. Her eyes flicker up to me and she takes my lace panites between her teeth and pulls them down my toned legs. She places my feet over her shoulders, nipping at the flesh on my thighs. When she drags her tongue through my folds, I rock my hips against her face. She moans at my taste.
"Fuck, Jane!" I scream, fingers tugging at her hair.
Her tongue traces my pussy, avoiding where I want her to be. Every once in awhile, she dips inside me, my hips meeting every thrust. The wet sounds of her tongue against my dripping heat fill the room. She hums in appreciation. When she circles my clit, a loud moan echoes off the walls and I push her face deep into my drenched core.
"Oh fuck, right there. Fucking Christ, Jane."
Soon, I fill long fingers enter me in a swift thrust and I almost buck off the counter. She laps at my clit in perfect rhythm. When she curls those talented digits inside of me, I scream her name at the top of my lungs. I tangel both hands in her hair, keeping her mouth sucking on my bundle of my nerves. My inner walls start to tighten and I buck my hips in time with her fast thrusts. I gaze down at my beautiful Italian Detective to see her watching me. With one final suck, my eyes flutter into the back of my skull as I let out a roaring scream, cumming hard over her face. She does not stop though, she brings my pleasure to another height and before I can come down from one orgasm, she has me spiraling into another. She is careful as she cleans me up, knowing that after a powerful climax I am more sensitive. Jane lowers my feet from her shoulders and I end up falling on top of her when I try to get off the countertop.
Our lips meet in a sweet kiss as I bring my hand down to slip underneath her panties. I am met with an abundance of her sweet juices. My lips trail down, pushing her bra down just enough to draw a nipple into my mouth. Now it is her turn to moan as I plunge two fingers into her wet heat. My thumb circles her clit as I bring her closer and closer to the edge. It will not take long, it never does after she pleasures me. There are times when she can cum just from tasting me. Her muscles start to contract around my fingers as her moans grow louder. Her fingers tangle in my honey blonde hair to pull me back up for a kiss. With a final rub of my thumb, she comes undone, her hips rocking against my thrusting fingers. Gently, I draw them out of her and a whimper leaves her lips. She opens her eyes just in time to watch me suck her cum off of my fingers. I gaze down at her and she smirks at me.
"And they say that marriage kills the sex life." She laughs.
I cannot help but chuckle and lean down to kiss her, the taste of each other mingling perfectly.
"Well, we might be getting too old for sex on the floor, but I don't really care." I answer her while I snuggle into her side.
Her fingers come up to stroke my hair before she places a soft kiss on my hairline.
"Nobody could ever take my attention from you, Maura. My eyes will always find you, because I could be in a gallery full of famous paintings and still think you're the most beautiful thing in the room."
I smile at her words and curl closer into her side. We need to get up soon because the floor is going to kill our backs, but I want to lay here for a few minutes. Jane always knows how to make all the bad feelings disappear out of me. With one look or one kiss, she always makes me feel desired and loved. No beautiful woman could turn her head away from me and I was silly to think so. She is my rock. My badass Detective that does not shy away when I need her to explain away all my insecurities.
Finis