A/N: Just a quick one shot that came to me while I was thinking about the last time I was in Boston. My mind wandered off into very strange territory, and this was the result. Thanks to my Twitter friends who encouraged me to go for it.. Enjoy.. and let me know what you think, okay? Thanks!
Night Soil
I'm late.. as in really late…
Maura's going to kill me.
I am absolutely certain that the road to hell is paved with the best of intentions.. because when I promised Maura I would be at the Institute of Contemporary Art by 7PM, I had the very best of intentions.
It is now 8:15PM.
"I won't be late. It's just a quick stakeout, nothing serious. Frost and I just want to canvas the neighborhood."
I slam my fist into the steering wheel and wait for the light to turn green.
Famous last words.
I promised her I would there, swore all faithful that I would be on time.
Fuck! I don't have time to wait…
I check to make sure the coast is clear then stomp the accelerator. I know I'm not supposed to use the lights and siren unless it's for official police business, but this seems like an emergency to me, and desperate times call for desperate measures, right?
What started out as a stroll through one of the neighborhoods that is reportedly one of our suspect's favorite hangouts led to a foot chase, shots fired, and now this..
I am currently flying down Northern Avenue, sirens wailing and lights flashing, in an attempt to make it to some fancy art exhibit by some artist whose name I cannot remember and would probably have difficulty pronouncing.
The parking lot is full, soft music can be heard, and groups of people are flowing in and out of the ICA. Whatever's going on inside that building appears to be in full swing, which means I'm fucked.
Damn it. I fucking promised I wouldn't be late..
Illegally parked. Again.
Going to get towed. Again..
I am utterly amazed by all the fucks I don't give as I put the car in park, kill the engine, and free myself from my seatbelt.
I break out into a jog, determined to find Maura and apologize profusely.. not only for being late, but for not being dressed up.
Two weeks.
I have known about this damn thing for two weeks. I have no excuse for not being in the dress and shoes that set her back about a grand that I swore I would wear to this thing.
Shit, shit, shit…
Upon entering the building, I slow down a little, running one hand through unruly hair and attempting to smooth out my dirty, wrinkled v-neck with the other one.
Oh, God.. I smell awful…
Tackling a guy and rolling around with him in an alley will leave you feeling and smelling a little less than fresh.
Not even trying to disguise what I'm doing, I take a few quick sniffs under each arm and frown.
What the fuck?
I'm not sure if I'm the source of the unpleasant smell or not, but all of a sudden, I feel really self-conscious. I should have tried to freshen up a little before coming in here. I was already going to feel out of place here tonight, even though I would have looked like I belong here in the dress and shoes Maura picked out for me. But now?
Now I feel like I'm about to meet the President in a pair of fucking flip flops.
Scanning the crowd of women in beautiful dresses and men in expensive suits, I can't help but feel as if I shouldn't be here at all.
You're going to embarrass her.. again…
My eyes find hers, and the look that is on her face tells me that I have a lot of explaining to do.
Shit.
I make my way through the crowd and over to her, flashing her my best "please forgive me" look. She takes in my appearance first, her eyes roving from my scuffed, dirt-encased boots, to my stained and now ripped pants, to my sweaty and wrinkled shirt. She finally brings her gaze up to meet mine.
"Frost already called and explained everything to me. I'm not upset.. I was worried… you could have called, you know, to tell me that you were going to be late." She says, her lips turned up into a small but beautiful smile.
I lean in and place a kiss on her cheek.
"I'm sorry, Maur.. we really weren't expected anything to happen.. but there was a guy, with a gun.. and then he saw us and got spooked so he took a few shots at us.. I chased him for a few blocks then took him down…"
Her finger upon my lips silences any further explanation.
"You're here now, Jane.. that's all that matters." Her voice is calm, her eyes shining with genuine appreciation and understanding. "Now, come on.. I want to show you a few of my favorite paintings and sculptures!"
God.. how the hell did I get so lucky?
She slips her hand into mine and leads me towards a group of strange paintings that look like a kindergartener was given a brush while blindfolded.
"These are exquisite. I'm actually thinking of purchasing one tonight.. what do you think?" She asks, and I have to stifle a laugh.
Oh, my God..
"I think that one looks like a.. Maura.. is that a..?"
I motion with my head to the top painting on the left and wonder how the hell people could call something like that art.
"Is that a what, Jane?" She asks, studying the painting closely.
Seriously..?
"Oh, c'mon! That's a penis, Maur.. it's been a long time since I've seen one… but I'm pretty sure that's a.. that's a dick, and you know it."
The look on her face right now is priceless.
"Jane!" She exclaims, her tone one of slight reproach. "That is not a penis.. clearly, that is one tall tree with smaller trees on either side of it.."
Clearly.
"Yeah.. that's a dick."
I point and laugh, which causes her to pop me playfully.
Ugh.. God.. what the fuck is that smell?
I bring my hand up to cover my nose, wondering if maybe I rolled around in a pile of shit in that alley while trying to cuff Billy Badass.
That would just be my luck..
If Maura notices that I reek of sweat and shit, she's too polite to call me on it in public. I'm sure she will tell me to hit the shower as soon as we get home though.
"If you're going to stand here and make juvenile jokes about the male genitalia, maybe we should go see a few of the sculptures I was telling you about today at lunch. The sculptor is local, graduated from BCU. His name is Joshua Peyton. He's supposed to be here tonight, but rumor has it he is in jail for being involved in a protest downtown that turned violent. He's a rebel, very eccentric. His sculptures are magnificent, very strange and avant-garde." She tells me, rambling on excitedly about… something…
God, that dress is going to look amazing as it hits floor...
I follow her lead, trying my best to pay attention to what she is saying as my eyes roam all over her body. I feel the scars on my hands begin to itch, notice that my palms have started to sweat.
No matter how many times I've had her, I somehow always want more. It's never enough.. having her once, twice.. sometimes five or six times a day… it's never enough.
I'm turned on, and hearing her ramble about art so passionately is only making me want her even more.
She is still dragging me through a sea of faceless people, chattering excitedly, smiling at me over her shoulder.
Okay, seriously.. am I the only one that smells that..?
I look around, half expecting to see people pinching their noses or discreetly trying to cover them with their hand, like I am doing right now.
Nothing.
Everyone in this building seems to be oblivious to the fact that something smells like shit.
Maura has led me over to what appears to be the main attraction, several tall, odd looking sculptures that have groups of people flocking to them, laughing and pulling out their cell phones to take pictures.
"Maura, what the hell are those?"
I point at the sculptures then cover my nose.
"Those are the Night Soil sculptures I have been telling you about! Aren't they fascinating?" She asks, genuinely enthralled by what is before us.
The Night Soil.. wait.. Night Soil?
"You've been telling me about shit sculptures for two weeks? Really? Oh, my God.. Maura!"
The innocent and somewhat confused look on her face lets me know that she has no idea I would never, in a million years, find this fascinating. She is genuinely interested in this exhibit.
"Yes, really! Jane, the sculptor was seeking to convey a deep, personal message. He is concerned with the deprivation of humanity, and this is his way of expressing his concerns. He's brilliant. This display is full of passion and vision.." She gushes, and I can't help but laugh.
I pull her close to me and wrap my arms around her, leaning back a little so that I can look into her eyes.
"Maur, this exhibit is full of something alright.. it's full of shit…"
We both laugh and she wraps her arms around me.
"You're tired.. let's go home, Jane. Although most of the stench filling my nostrils right now is coming from the Night Soil sculptures.. some of it is not. When we get home, you have to take a shower immediately. I love you, Jane.. but you stink." She says, then presses her lips to mine in a brief kiss.
God, I love this woman..
She spent a small fortune on a new dress and a new pair of shoes, spent no telling how long in front of the mirror primping and preening to look as stunning as she does right now.. just so we could look at stacked up shit…
"Maura Isles, you are, by far, the strangest woman I've ever met.. and I love you too."
She smiles sheepishly up at me.
"I'll take that as a compliment." She says, her voice soft and tone appreciative.
I laugh as we head towards the exit.
"Please do…"