a/n this is what happens when like, all your facebook friends are either new parents or soon to be parents. I'm a twentysomething, i'm not supposed to be in the middle of babycrazy. That, and the scene from the promo for the summer finale with Jane holding Lydia's kid and just looking so awestruck, led to this. Pure fluff.
She knew she was being unusually quiet. "What's wrong?" Two words, ones that she'd been dreading all morning. Two that she knew were coming. She took a deep breath, not even bothering to try and deflect, not bothering to lie and claim nothing was wrong. It would be a waste of breath and she knew it.
"When Ma shoved Lydia's baby at me today, I -" She trailed off, staring out the window, not sure of just what to say. "It looked up at me and-"
"Jane, it's perfectly natural to have maternal feelings, especially as you get older and-"
"Maura, enough about bioligical clocks. It's just – I never thought I'd actually hold a kid and go 'I want one of you' y'know?" What she didn't say was that since that morning, she'd had a dozen daydreams about what it would be like to actually have a kid, have a family. At first she'd shrugged it off as just the effect that babies have on thirty-something women, but once she realized that there was a very distinct pattern to all of her daydreams, it had definitely started to scare the shit out of her.
They were sitting there on the couch, a basket of laundry between them, both folding the various articles of clothing. "I can't believe you got him a four hundred dollar lego set."
"Hey, you spend like four times that on a shoe. Just one, not the pair."
"You went to the toy store to pick out something for getting good grades."
"His grades were really good. Besides, it's the Millenium Falcon, how can you say no to the Millenium Falcon? It made the kessel run in -" She trailed off, knowing it was just going to earn her a comment about how a parsec was a unit of measurement for distance, not time. She knew Maura was trying to be mad at her, trying to be the parent that didn't want to spoil their child rotten, trying to put a foot down, and failing. Even more so when they each found one tiny, seven-year-old hand thrust into one of their own, pulling them upwards and into the playroom to find one nearly-completed space ship. She was amazed – the only thing missing were the decals, the actual construction already done. "See? He's going to be an engineer when he grows up."
She had daydreamed about her, having a seven year old, a son, and Maura. The seven year old wasn't the issue. The issue was a daydream about an ideal family included Maura. And so did the next one. And the one after that. She daydreamed about teaching a kid how to throw a ball, how to do a somersault off a diving board, pictured putting her foot down when it came to the issue of some fancy-pants private school all the way in New Jersey. And the worst thing was she tried, really had to daydream about the same sorts of mundane parenting things with any of the men in her life, and none of them seemed to feel right. Not even Casey. Not even a healthy, whole Casey, before the accident.
Somewhere along the way she'd found that the idea of family included Maura. And then she found herself trying to imagine her and Maura involved in the sorts of things that led to families – and yes, she definitely wouldn't mind that. When the hell had this happened? When had she somehow managed to find someone that she could imagine herself married to, have a family with, and how had she not noticed it? "Do you ever, y'know, daydream about what it'd be like to, well, be a mom? Like – with the fantasy wedding, fantasy family?" Maura gave one of those adorable little grins in response to her question, and she wondered when she started thinking of the gesture as adorable.
"Of course. Do you?"
"...kinda? I mean, I keep picturing all these – cute moments." She grimaced when she said it, but there was really no other way to describe the scenes she could picture. Family picnics. A cross country family road trip trying to keep a beautiful dark haired girl with hazel eyes and a blond boy with souldful brown ones from killing each other when in a car together for eighteen hours, and trying to keep herself from killing Maura when every landmark got a scientific explanation, and loving every single second of it.
"Like what?"
"Tell me one of yours first." She was putting on her best puppy dog eyes, wanting – needing to hear this from Maura.
"Well, I imagine I have an absolutely perfect little girl, and she's just learning how to play piano, sitting there playing Bach's Minuet in G, and she hits a wrong note and-" The sentence abruptly stopped.
"And what?" Maura's head dipped down, and the lithe woman squirmed slightly, suddenly uncomfortable. She reached out, grabbing two perfectly manicured hands with her own. She wanted, needed to hear Maura's thoughts on the future, so that she could chase away the silly notions she'd developed.
"And thats it."
"Maura, this is you we're talking about. You don't daydream about your kids doing something imperfect and end the daydream there."
" I can't."
"Yes you can. What happens next?" She reached up under Maura's chin, tilting a blonde head up to meet her eyes. "Go on." She could feel hazel eyes locked with hers, as though searching for something.
"And you're there sitting next to her, gently repositioning her fingers on the correct keys and she finishes and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard." She smiled, feeling the icy grip that had tightened around her stomach start to retreat.
"Tell me another."
"I – Jane -" There was something so nervous in Maura's tone, and it gave her hope. She knew her best friend well enough to know that the only way that Maura would be nervous about sharing pictures of the future with her would be if the doctor had been doing the same thing she had been – imagining their futures together. She shifted their position slightly, intertwining the fingers of her left hand with Maura's.
"Tell me another." She pressed, looking at the other woman intently. There was a pause, before Maura seemed bolder, bold enough to continue.
"I imagine an adorable little boy, excited for his first professional baseball game. And he sits there, able to commentate the game better than the broadcasters, with the same knowledge of statistics and history. And a foul ball comes his way and you're there to hoist him up so that he can catch it before it goes over his head." She couldn't help it. She was grinning at the image. Maura wasn't looking at her, but rather at some point in the distance, a wistful look in hazel eyes. "What about you?" The words are so quiet, she barely heard them.
"Me? I daydreamed about a beautiful little girl, nervous as hell about her first dance recital, and I'm kneeling next to her giving her a pep talk that could convince Tampa Bay they could win the Superbowl, and you're there making sure she looks perfect, since you know I'm no good with any of that makeup crap."
"Oh Jane-" She looked up to see Maura looking at her with something that she couldn't place, but something that she definitely understood, and it left her with a very warm, very content feeling.
"Kinda funny, huh? Our lives are so tangled up in each other that – well -" She faltered, unsure of how to put into words what she knew in her heart. "I tried, y'know, to picutre the same things with other people, tried to imagine what it'd be like with Casey or Dean – hell, I even tried to imagine what it'd be like with Joey Grant and none of those daydreams felt right." Somewhere along the way, she'd moved closer, her forehead resting against Maura's, and she was suddenly very aware of how very close they were, and how much she very much wanted to never be anywhere else.
"I know." And there's more emotion in the words that seemed to say nothing and everything all at once. There was an interminable pause as they sat there before lips were on hers, and she broke. This was what she had wanted. This was how she could imagine spending the rest of her life. She wanted nothing more than to stay right there in Maura's arms, Maura's lips on hers. But then a better idea took hold, and she broke away slightly.
"You wanna go make a baby?" She asked, her voice suddenly much huskier.
"Jane, you know that's biologically im-" She cut off Maura's sciency protest with a kiss.
"Doesn't mean it's not fun trying." She loved the smirk she got in response as realisation set in, wondering how they had danced around this for so long. Because now that she tried it? Now that they had forever in front of them? She knew that there was no where else she'd rather be.