Author's note: This second chapter was already pretty much finished when I uploaded the first. Since so many people requested Story Alerts I decided not to tease you and just hand it to you straight away;)
Now, neither Maura nor Story Alerts lie – I know a lot of you are reading this! So please leave your thoughts on the story as it progresses. As an RI-newbie, I'd love to hear what you think!
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CHAPTER II: PILLOW DIALOGUES
6 weeks before breakdown
"Maur, thank God you're here!"
The doctor couldn't suppress her bright almost goofy smile as she closed the hospital door behind her, and the remains of another long and trying day at work seemed to fade instantly.
Even though Jane had been awake and alert for more than a week now, the sound of her husky and currently annoyed voice still made Maura's chest tense and flooded with relief at the same time.
Jane was back, in her old, impatient self; but Maura had so very nearly lost her for good.
They still hadn't discussed it, and probably shouldn't anytime soon, if ever. Jane needed to rest in order to heal. And right now she needed a break from her loving, if somewhat trying mother.
As Maura neatly folded and disposed of her jacket, replaced the dry tulips with fresh ones and put a large paper bag down on the small table next to Jane's bed, her friend was going into one of her typical rambles.
"I swear to God, Ma is going to be the death of me… Even in here she won't lay off with her matchmaking attempts!"
Angela Rizzoli was so used to her daughter's temper she didn't even blink at the outburst. "Oh no, honey – you'll be the death of yourself, I think you've made that clear to everyone by now. That's why I'm trying to help you find someone nice to look after you."
"Ma, I don't need to be looked after! Tell her, Maura."
Maura, burdened by her ability to see things from more than one perspective and also reluctant to get caught in the Rizzoli fire, nervously shifted her weight from one stiletto-clad foot to the other.
"Well, at the moment you do need some one to take care of you, but they could merely do so in a professional capacity…"
"Exactly!" Jane pointed accusingly at her mother. "Dr. Hanson is just that; a professional. I can't believe you were trying to set me up with him! It's so inappropriate not to mention embarrassing."
"But Janie, I always wanted you to date a doctor," Angela insisted.
A doctor.
Before a blush could find its way to Maura's pale cheeks she quickly turned away and busied herself with the paper bag. One by one she brought out neatly organised plastic containers with healthy, nutritious foods which she had carefully prepared in her own kitchen.
With all the hearings and legal repercussions following the shooting at the station Maura was hard pressed for time. She was doing her best to personally fend off Cavanaugh, a bunch of legal reps and a whole army of reporters to make sure Jane got the peace she needed right now.
But she had still taken the time to prepare a proper meal for Jane, so her friend wouldn't have to depend on the mass-produced hospital food, which – according to many studies – did not exactly speed up recovery. She hoped Jane would prefer her homemade food, too.
Even with her back turned, she could sense how Jane was rolling her eyes.
"I know you have, Ma. You've mentioned it a trazillion times. Anyway that's not the point. The point is you should get your nose out of my love life or lack of or whatever!"
Before Angela could reply, Maura chose to take some fruit to the bathroom to wash it properly. When she returned, Angela was gone, but Jane was still visibly frustrated. Bed-bound and unable to pace, all her built-up energy seemed to end in her hands. They fidgeted constantly; clasping metal railings, pulling at strands of hair, poking linen and teeth.
Maura wanted to grasp them, to still them and soak the uneasiness out of her friend. But given the sensitive topic of the conversation which had set Jane off, she decided not to. Laughing off stories about dating would be so much harder if she held her friend's hands in hers.
Instead she pulled a chair up to Jane and arranged the food on plates. Proper plates, not the sterile hospital equipment; Jane had plenty of that around her already.
"No cheese fries?" Jane pouted. Then the pout became a wince. "Please tell me that isn't liver..?"
"I'm sorry, Jane, but since you hate being hospitalized, I took the liberty of choosing a diet that would speed up your recovery. The liver provides plenty of iron, which is essential given your blood loss. Also, the liver – and the carrots and spinach – contains A-vitamins, which along with zinc…" Maura indicated some prawns and oysters, "…improve the healing of wounds."
She tried to keep her tone cheerful, but couldn't keep her shoulders from sinking a little. She had really tried to make the food as appealing as possible. She'd even prepared a small dessert: An aesthetically pleasing fruit salad made from fresh strawberries, oranges and kiwis – all full of C-vitamins – and topped with chopped nuts for proteins and blackstrap molasses for iron.
Apparently Jane noticed, because she quickly said: "I know, Maur. And thank you. It does look delicious."
Maura was grateful for the assurance, but felt a tinge of guilt due to the fact that Jane had found it necessary. Jane shouldn't have to comfort her; she should focus on getting well. And surely she was in her full right to complain a little. She had been shot, after all. Maura, on the other hand, ought to pull herself together.
And so she did, sending her friend a dazzling smile that almost reached her eyes, as she handed Jane a napkin. While Jane pushed a corner of it into her neckline, choosing to wear the napkin as a bib, Maura placed her own napkin neatly in her lap and straightened out all wrinkles with her palm.
"So, what have you been up to today?" she tried cheerfully.
She had made the mistake of talking too much about Jane's condition early on and wouldn't make it again. Jane had thrown a minor tantrum, pointing out that she had plenty of people treating her like 'a thing' all day; that she wasn't one of Maura's dead bodies, but a living, sociable person; that she didn't need another doctor, but a friend.
The outburst might have seemed somewhat out of proportion to an outside observer, but Maura knew she'd deserved it. After all, her medical approach had had purely selfish reasons. It was simply easier for her to deal with a gunshot wound professionally than to deal with Jane. Not just the fact that she had almost died. Also the fact that she hadn't. There were things Maura hadn't told her, things she'd only realised when her friend was dying. And because Jane had lived Maura now had to guard herself constantly to make sure nothing unintentionally slipped from her.
The topic of discussion Jane chose for the evening did not make things any easier.
"The usual. Blood transfusions, tests, physical therapy. Four episodes of Days of Our Lives. Oh, and then Ma chose to pull another one of her set-up stunts on me. Can you believe that woman!"
Jane spoke around a mouthful of spinach and gestured to herself with the fork in her left hand. "I mean, just look at me! Not exactly dressed to kill, am I."
"I admit white isn't the best colour on you, but even a hospital gown can't hide the fact that you're gorgeous," Maura said as casually as she could.
She had called Jane gorgeous to her face before; there was nothing new or sensational about it. Only this time, with her new awareness of how she actually felt about her friend, the compliment felt less serene. In fact, she felt almost deceitful and carefully avoided Jane's gaze.
"Hardly, but thanks for trying to cheer me up." Jane sighed, then after a slight pause added: "Anyway, I know he'd disappoint."
Recognizing the growing smirk on her friend's face as an invitation Maura asked: "How do you know?"
"Been there, done that," Jane said with a shrug. Then, prompted by Maura's widened eyes, she quickly added: "Not this particular guy, but someone his spitting image."
She scraped the remaining spinach salad off her plate and licked the fork clean. Apparently she did like the food, after all. "He looks just like the first guy I was ever 'with' with, except he's about twenty-five years older."
"He's not that old," Maura protested. "He has almost no wrinkles on his forehead or in the suborbicularis area, so unless he had a rhytidectomy, which I find highly unlikely, I would say he is no more than thirty-nine."
"Like I said, twenty-five years older."
A piece of strawberry never reached Maura's mouth, as her hand froze mid-air. "The first person you had sexual intercourse with was fourteen years old?"
"We both were." Jane shrugged. "Don't ever tell Ma, though, I'm pretty sure she thinks I saved it until after high school, at the very least. She'd kill me if she knew what went on at those Sunday school camps!"
"Well, fourteen is quite young," Maura said. "According to the Guttmacher Institute's research, on average contemporary American teens have sex for the first time at the age of 17."
"Yeah, well, I kind of just wanted it over with. Wanted to know what the big deal was about." She laughed lightly. "Of course, that particular experience sure didn't shed much light on the mystery! Guess first times are rarely what they're made up to be."
Maura didn't say anything, nor did she look up from her fruit salad, but she could feel Jane's curious gaze caress the side of her face. She feared the question even before it was uttered aloud. You don't want to know, Jane. And I don't want you to, either.
"Why, how old were you?" Jane asked.
"How old was I when what?" Maura tried lightly, before she stuffed her mouth with salad in a highly un-classy and un-Maura-like way. The chewing would buy her some time, and if she stalled enough, perhaps Jane would let it go. Wishful thinking, Maura, she never does…
"The first time you had sex," Jane pressed on.
Maura pointed to her still full mouth while she desperately thought of ways to throw Jane off track. She had always omitted certain details about her sexual history. Bringing them to light now would surely make it much harder to hide how she really felt about her friend.
Yet she couldn't lie – if she did, she would hyperventilate, and Jane would see right through her. But perhaps she could answer a slightly different question than the one Jane thought she was asking.
"Define sex," Maura finally said, once she was able to speak again.
Jane arched an eyebrow. "Come on, Maur, you don't want me to go all graphic, do you? You know what I mean."
Maura shrugged in what she hoped seemed a casual way. "I don't see how I could. The definitions of first time sex depend largely on historical and cultural context. In the Middle East, for instance, where an unripped hymen is of the utmost importance upon the entering of a marriage, many young people experiment with anal intercourse first and do not consider it actual sex. Similarly, many Americans do not feel oral sex counts, except when exchanged between women."
During Maura's ramble, Jane's other eyebrow had joined the first. "Geez, Maura, you saying you started out that adventurous?"
"Not at all. I'm merely saying definitions of first time experiences vary. You need to clarify."
Maura gathered their plates and took them to the adjoining bathroom to rinse them. She left the door standing ajar, even though she was momentarily tempted to efficiently cut the conversation short.
"Okay…" Jane let out a breath, presumably trying not to let Maura's need for accuracy get to her. "Well, then use whatever definition seems right to you. When did you feel you weren't a virgin anymore?"
Maura winced. The emphasis on 'you' and 'feel' was slight, but enough to get the point across. Maura had hoped Jane would simply stick with seventh grade biology book definitions of vaginal intercourse. But instead, she was asking for a subjective, personal response. It couldn't possibly get any worse.
"Um, okay. I was twenty," she said from the bathroom.
"Garret?" Jane wondered aloud. At least she wasn't commenting on Maura's somewhat late debut, perhaps intuitively sensing that it had, at one point, been a sore spot.
"No, I was nearly twenty-one when I started seeing Garret."
There were only a few plates and little cutlery, but Maura took her time and remained shielded from Jane's gaze by the bathroom wall.
From the other room Maura could hear a crunching noise that sounded suspiciously like potato chips being chewed. When she returned, however, Jane's hands were both empty and fully visible on top of the blanket. I'll have to check her drawers later…
"Well, who was he, then?" Jane asked impatiently.
"My roommate at university." Maura kept her eyes on the plates in her hands as she put them away.
"Really? I thought men and women weren't allowed to…" Jane's voice suddenly trailed off. "Oh."
Maura didn't look up. She didn't need to analyse her friend's facial muscles to recognize the surprise; it was evident in Jane's voice.
The question was – what would it lead to? Disgust, once the implications had fully sunk in? A sense of betrayal, because Maura had kept a vital piece of information about herself from her best friend? Shock, because Jane's closest confidante suddenly seemed like a stranger?
As it turned out, neither.
"Was it good?" Jane simply asked, and this time Maura was the one caught by surprise.
She had not expected that particular reaction; it represented a chink in what Maura considered a regular pattern, and she needed visual cues to interpret it. And in order to do so she had to meet her friend's gaze.
Jane didn't appear tense in any way. Her breathing was normal, her pupils not dilated. Her surprise at Maura's revelation had vaporised remarkably quickly – if it had been there at all. Rather, her slight head tilt and the ghost of a smile indicated that she was genuinely curios, but completely at ease.
"Well, statistically speaking same-sex couples have more satisfying sex lives than their heterosexual counterparts. Alfred Kinsey noted this as early as 1953. In his studies on Sexual Behaviour in the Human Female he found that 78% of women had orgasms in 60%-100% of sexual encounters with other women, compared to only 55% for heterosexual sex. Similar studies published in Journal of Sex Research in 2006 found that 76% of women who slept with women reached orgasm, compared to only 69% of those who slept with men."
Maura shook her hair lightly and smiled as she once again took a seat next to Jane's bed. She always felt a little proud when her eidetic memory proved useful, and this time the implicit deflection of Jane's question was an added bonus.
Unfortunately, Jane was too familiar with Maura's technique and broke into a full-on Rizzoli grin. "Your vast knowledge on the topic is impressive, but I asked if you had a good first time experience."
Maura shifted nervously. "I don't see how I could possibly answer that without any objectively defined evaluation criteria…"
"Well, did it last more than five minutes, and did she not only care about getting herself off?"
Maura swallowed. "As Master & Johnson's studies have documented, same-sex couples are more likely to lavish attention on the entire body, not just genitals, and to pay closer attention to their partner's pleasure and in fact get their own arousal from it..."
In spite of her scientific approach Maura could feel a blush crawling up her neck and rapidly spreading across her cheeks. "Also, encounters between women tend to last longer, since women – unlike men, who enter a refractory period after an orgasm – may be able to repeat the cycle almost immediately."
Jane shook her head, but chuckled lightly. "I won't get a straight answer from you, will I? But I'll take that as a yes."
At the word 'straight' Maura's head and shoulders sunk half an inch, and although the unintended pun seemed to fly right past the detective, Maura's unease didn't.
A gentle hand on her elbow balanced out the teasing tone in Jane's voice, as she said: "I'd heard about the term 'Gay Until Graduation', but never figured it'd apply to you."
Slender fingers gave Maura a small squeeze, and she released a breath she hadn't been aware of holding back. Thank God, she's still willing to touch me. Then perhaps nothing has to change.
"Well, I'm not sure it did."
The moment the words left her mouth, Maura realised her mistake. She'd let herself relax for a moment, and they'd slipped. Her eyes automatically searched for something to do, some distraction, an escape – but all boxes and dishes were neatly put away, and Angela had tidied up the room earlier. Besides, Jane still held on to her arm. She was trapped and suddenly felt claustrophobic in spite of the white walls and bright lamps.
Jane, ever the skilled interrogator, cut right to the case. "Which part didn't apply, Maur? The 'gay' or the 'until graduation'?"
"I… You know, that's…" Maura's eyes still couldn't find anything to rest on, and for a second she wondered if perhaps the room was actually moving, although this was of course impossible. She squeezed her eyes closed as a wave of dizziness suddenly washed over her.
In that moment, her phone rang. The interruption gave her a welcome excuse to withdraw her arm and get up from her chair to reach into her purse on the floor.
"Dr. Maura Isles," she answered automatically in a voice that suddenly seemed unfamiliar to her. Not just as if it belonged to someone else, but as if the name was spoken from far away.
"Maura, I'm glad I caught you." Ever the arrogant leader, Cavanaugh apparently didn't find it necessary to introduce himself. "Are you with Jane at the moment?"
"Why, how may I help you, sir?" Maura countered, not wanting Jane to get involved.
"There's still a couple of unresolved questions regarding the shooting, and if Jane could come to the phone-"
"I'll come by in the morning and resolve the matter personally. I'll talk to any reporter, any legal or management representative," she replied with authoritative finality in her voice.
Fortunately her boss couldn't see the way she was rubbing her hand against her eyes and temple. The room really was spinning. "I'll write a second, more detailed report, if the first one isn't satisfactory."
"The thing is, I've been asked to go on the news in the morning," Cavanaugh said.
"Well, then I'll have the report on your desk before then. I'll write it tonight."
Tonight… Because of all her extra tasks she already had three days of ordinary paperwork to catch up on, and she didn't want to leave Jane to herself all evening. Then there was Jo and Bass. And the medical insurance papers she'd promised to help translate to the Rizzoli family.
"That's great, Dr. Isles. See you then, and send my regards to Jane. Bye."
Maura lowered her phone and stared at it as if it were some extraterrestrial object she'd just picked up. She blinked, suddenly unable to decide or remember whether she was about to put it down or pick it up. All she could really think of was the nausea, which was now accompanied by a racing pulse. It almost echoed in her head.
"Maura? Maur? Hey, are you okay?"
Jane's nearest hand found hers and she was pulled out of her near-catatonic state.
"Is Cavanaugh giving you a hard time? If he is, then tell me, and I'll kick his ass."
There was no doubt Jane meant it, even if she was currently hooked up to an IV. Her concerned yet steel-hard expression indicated she'd find a way.
"I'm… No, it's okay, I'm just a little dizzy…" Maura let herself be guided back down on the chair. She even let Jane keep her hand in hers. She was too shaken to think to let go.
"Perhaps you're dehydrated? Have you had enough to drink?" Jane caressed the back of her hand with her thumb.
Maura shook her head slowly as she tried to calm her body down. "No, I think… I think I'm probably just tired. My sleep pattern has been somewhat disrupted lately." She immediately felt guilty for admitting it. Jane might worry unnecessary, or worse: blame herself for Maura's lack of sleep and feel like a burden.
For a while, Jane said nothing. She merely studied Maura with an unreadable expression, as she continued stroking her hand gently. Then she let go and patted the railing, then patted the spot next to her on the mattress as Maura understood the implied request and removed the metal barrier between them.
"You should lie down for a bit," Jane said.
Maura hesitated, but not for more than a heartbeat. It was still so loud she couldn't really think of anything else. So she obeyed and joined Jane on the bed, but did make sure to stay on top of the covers and not on any part of Jane.
Once they were both settled, Jane quickly found her hand again. And after a few minutes – as the dizziness had faded – Maura also felt soft, unruly curls resting against her temple.
Even if Maura wouldn't fall asleep until late, if at all, at least Jane had. Her feather-light breath tickled Maura's neck and left goosebumps in its track, and the heat from the sleep-limp arm draped across Maura's thigh was spreading like rippled water.
There was no way Maura's pulse would return to normal anytime soon.
