A Flavor of Mortality

by My Souvenirs

This was a sickness, this cancer they had nurtured between them. The stolen glances and brief physical contacts had taken their toll, robbed them of the life they were both still pretending to lead. This relationship was a shadow of their full potential, and yet they let it die before them, convinced this affliction was benign. But they were terminal, growing weaker by the day.

The title of this fic was taken from a quote from Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad:

"There is a taint of death, a flavor of mortality in lies - which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world - what I want to forget."

I do not own Rizzoli and Isles or its characters.

Maura sighed as she reached to close her blinds. The week had been excruciating, their triple-homicide yielding little evidence and leaving the team grasping at straws to find the killer. Though her mind and body felt ready to shut down and although it was Friday, she knew she'd go in tomorrow, along with Jane, Korsak, and Frost. They'd never failed to solve a case, and they certainly weren't going to start now.

It had begun to rain, the soft drops darkening the sky and the Boston asphalt in front of her home, and she couldn't take it. She was tired. She was morose. She needed rest.

But Jane was coming over, just as she did every other Friday night. They'd have take out and wine and sit in silence while they both tried to process the week and the case, seeking solace in the presence of the other.

The sudden knock on the door jolted her and she checked her watch- it was only 7:30, and Jane never arrived before 8 on a late work night. Her curiosity peaking, she opened the door to find another dark-haired Rizzoli.

"Tommy?"

She could tell immediately that he was inebriated, could smell the beer on breath, and his speech only confirmed her hypothesis.

"Heyyy, Mauraaa," he slurred, practically falling through the door and making his way to the couch.

"You got a reeeally nice place hereee."

Maura followed him, grabbing her phone from the coffee table.

"Tommy, let me call you a cab. You need to get home and allow your body to absorb the alcohol you've consumed."

He stood, clumsily, to meet her, and put his finger over her lips.

"Gosh, you ever stop talking'?! I was thinkin' I could stay here, we could finish what we started a couple months ago."

He was advancing upon her, and suddenly he was kissing her roughly. She attempted to push him away, but he held her tightly, painfully. She would bruise.

As his hand began to trail underneath her shirt, she heard the door open, heard her name being called in an innocent curiosity. She continued to struggle.

"Maur? I brought Chinese!"

She heard the take out smack to the floor as her friend rounded the corner, and felt Tommy pull away from her.

"Tommy, what the fuck?! Get your hands off of her!" Jane was screaming, rushing to them and grabbing her brother quickly.

Maura sighed in relief, dropping to the couch.

"Jane, don't-"

"What the hell, Janie? Maura and I were just having some fun," Tommy said slowly, smiling mischievously at the blond.

She didn't think twice. Jane connected her fist with his mouth, her left hook sending Tommy to his knees.

"Jane!"

"What the fuck?!"

"You better get your ass out of here right now, Tommy, or so help me, God, I will kill you myself."

He scurried toward the door, and Maura idly wondered how he gotten there in the first place before turning her attention to her best friend.

"What on Earth is wrong with you?! He was drunk, Jane, what if he tries to drive home?"

This was clearly not the reaction the detective had expected.

"Maura, my scumbag brother just had his hands all over you after you told him to stop! He deserved it."

"He would have stopped. He would have," she whispered, unsure of who she was trying to convince.

Jane laughed bitterly.

"Honestly, Maura, do you ever really think? What if I hadn't been coming over?" Her voice was rising, and before they knew what was happening, Maura was shouting back.

"I can take care of myself, Jane! You insist on treating me like a child!"

"Sometimes you act like one. I don't want you hanging around with him! I've told you that before, you never listen!" Jane shouted.

Maura was in disbelief. She'd never seen Jane this controlling, this angry.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was your property, Jane."

"Well, now you know."

And they both knew a line had been crossed. The silence hung between them as if they'd both been slapped. Maura backed away when Jane stepped closer.

"Maura…I'm-"

"Don't. We're done here. Get out." Her blood was boiling. She and Jane had never fought like this, but she could honestly say that she wasn't surprised that they had finally escalated to this. There was too much tension between them, a pressure that had been building for years, since the day they met.

"Maur," Jane practically whimpered, and her eyes were glossy when Maura glanced up.

She raised her arm, a finger pointed towards the front door.

"I said, get the hell out of my house."

She felt the inexplicable impulse to throw something, perhaps the closest wine bottle, to watch the glass make contact with the wall and shatter so that something else was as broken as she was. Instead, she grabbed a glass and poured a generous amount of Pinot Noir, eager to forget her fury.

The knock on the door twenty minutes later came as no surprise. She contemplated ignoring it, leaving Jane to her regret and allowing herself to wallow in her bitterness. But she found herself rising from the couch, reaching for the doorknob to face Jane.

Her friend was a mess. Maura could tell she had been crying, her eyes swollen and red. Her hair was wild, ruined by the wind and rain, and she exuded fatigue, the kind of exhaustion you could feel in your bones, the one Jane felt far too often.

Maura held the door frame tightly in her grasp, ready to slam it shut at a moment's notice. 'Run from your problems,' she thought. 'Isn't that what Jane taught you to do?'

"Why are you here?" She questioned, eager to get to the heart of the matter.

Jane dropped her graze to the doormat, looking dejected and shrugging. She spoke in a soft, unsure voice, one that Maura wouldn't have believed had come out of her detective if she wasn't there to witness it.

"I just…I fucked up, Maura."

"I know that. Why are you here?" Maura asked, eyeing Jane as though she were contagious, as though there was something crawling under her skin, something Maura wanted to release.

And then it hit her. This was a sickness, this cancer they had nurtured between them. The stolen glances and brief physical contacts had taken their toll, robbed them of the life they were both still pretending to lead. This relationship was a shadow of their full potential, and yet they let it die before them, convinced this affliction was benign. But they were terminal, growing weaker by the day.

She flicked her eyes upward to Jane, who was scrutinizing intently at a spot on the floor. Her silence was profound and Maura felt the importance of this situation, almost as if she had given her friend an ultimatum.

"We…we need to talk, Maur," Jane replied quietly, and Maura could hear the desperation, practically taste the apology she wasn't sure would ever fall from her lips. She couldn't remember ever hearing the detective's voice so vulnerable- not after the shooting, not after she killed Hoyt, not even after a maniac had captured her with the intentions of so much more.

But she wasn't here to pity Jane. She was angry, furious. Everything from their past had piled up, its weight oppressive as they struggled through their broken relationship. Maura hated idioms, but this was the final straw, do or die.

This was where they met remission or ruination.

"I would say so, Jane." Her voice was bitter, biting.

The brunette sucked in a deep breath, her words spilling from her mouth, tripping on each other, her intent nearly indiscernible.

"The thing with Tommy was…Maur, I never meant for it to happen like that. I didn't mean to hit him, I was just…so angry. And I've been angry for a long time, but you deserve more than this. You deserve more than a friend like me. I'm selfish, rude, obnoxious, and I'm stubborn, Maura, and nothing about me is going to change."

Maura sighed.

"I'm not going to deny anything of those-"

But Jane cut her off with a sharp wave of the hand.

"Just let me talk. Because, for once, I have something that needs to be said. And I need you to hear it."

For a moment, it looked like the doctor would argue, but her demeanor collapsed, deciding to hear her partner through before making what would probably be the worst decision of her life.

"Did you know that I once broke Tommy's nose? I was 16. He…uh…made some remarks about my sexuality that I wasn't quiet ready to deal with, so I decked him. Ma was furious, there was blood everywhere."

She cleared her throat.

"Anyways…what I guess I'm trying to say is that I know what Tommy is capable of. I know what men are capable of, regardless of their genetic relation to me. And I could keep being the coward I am and say that I'm just trying to protect you, my best friend, but I'm tired of living half-truths. I nearly attacked my own brother tonight, Maura. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. I wanted to protect you, of course…but I was also jealous."

Maura didn't raise her eyebrows, didn't give Jane the satisfaction of a feigned surprise. She knew she was jealous. She knew the precipice that their relationship rested on. She knew what was at stake. But Jane's next words took her by surprise.

"Fuck this, Maura. I'm done being afraid, I'm done being afraid of you. I'm in love with you. It is what it is."

Jane softened and took a step toward the blonde, her eyes smoldering with sorrow, guilt, and affection.

"You're the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me, but we can't keep doing this. It's killing us."

So she had noticed, too. They'd both been dancing around the truth for years. It was time to end it.

"Are you done?" Maura questioned forcefully. She could honestly say that she was shocked, that she was so dominate in this situation and Jane so subdued. It was the polar opposite of their normal dynamic, and the role reversal was not lost on either of them.

Jane reached up quickly to wipe a stray tear from her eye, and Maura knew she was internally fighting her own perceived weaknesses.

"Yeah. I'm done."

Maura smirked.

"Good."

And then she kissed her.

Closing the gap that separated them, Maura pressed her lips to Jane's in a strong kiss, savoring the way Jane trembled, how her own hands felt locked in raven hair, how right the whole thing felt. For once, she had no definition or purpose for what she felt, no empirical data to confirm her hypothesis: she loved Jane, and she felt it everywhere.

When they parted, Jane averted her eyes, and Maura thought she saw her blush. Roughly, she grabbed the detective's chin, forcing their eyes to lock.

"No. Don't look away from me. No more doubts. No more shame. I want you, Jane Rizzoli." And she covered her friend's lips with her own again, noting the increased fervor with which Jane responded.

Gasping for breath, they rested their foreheads together, and Jane sighed deeply.

"We're gonna be okay," she whispered, and it sounded more like a reassurance for herself than a statement directed to Maura.

She nodded in response, closing her eyes. They were still infected, and there were plenty of things that needed to be dealt with if they would ever could be deemed healthy, but Maura knew that they were on their way to recovery, together.

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think!