I'd like to thank all those for reading, reviewing and putting this story on their favourites and alerts list. Also to those who added me as their favourite author, thank you, it means the world to me!
Most people who reviewed got a reply back but to anyone else reading, this will not be a PWP/pure-smut kind of story. I'm trying to make it into a legitimate romance that will "blossom" with every chapter. Hopefully you all like what's to come and that it's also believable! For now, enjoy!
Precautions
Maura taps lightly at her watch, wrist folded over the other as she waits at her desk. Her eyes, though tired, shift rapidly from one edge of the report to the next, and as she passes time by doing nothing at all, one thought wanders into her mind. Maura shifts in her seat as she silently corrects herself. One name.
Jane.
It had been weeks since their undercover job; exactly seventeen days since that awkward encounter. Because even though the moment was brief and they'd touched each other countless times before, the moment Jane's hands grasped at her hips, Maura knew something had changed. She could have chosen another cover for them, to maybe push Maura away into the room next to them, or walked away pretending not to know her at all, but Jane chose to do that to Maura. And it puzzled her.
It still does. She tells herself most of the time that it's because she's a detective. That her instincts just happened to kick in. That because of what Jane was trained to do, it's why her wrists were twisted and her face met the wall. And although she lacks experience in the field, Maura is well aware what a patdown is supposed to be like, and isn't supposed to be like.
Patdowns were defined by two words. Pat and down. What Jane did was defined by two words also. Glide and up. Patdowns, though brief in the areas targetted, packed a punch with grip and invaded personal space. What Jane did, though brief, did not glide up the areas targetted and lacked in grip, but still invaded personal space. Patdowns went over clothes and, well.. patted. What Jane did went over Maura's bare skin and, well.. caressed.
What Jane did was not a patdown.
The thing about their friendship though, is that if there is an issue, it will be addressed. The earlier it's addressed, the less stress it causes. The longer it drags on, though, the bigger the explosion. And although it bothers Maura, it doesn't at the same time. And everytime Maura thinks about it, she finds herself just as she is now. Confused.
She shakes the thoughts from her head and tucks a curl behind her ear, wrapping her finger around the end before she lets it bounce into its place. Her eyes flick back to her watch, the long hand pointing north, and just before Maura's mind delves back into thought, she hears a knock. It's soft, and the echo it emits gives her chill. True to her word, Jane arrives on time.
They hadn't seen each other since morning. A case had been thrown their way overtop another, so while Jane ran from one end of the city to the other finding leads, Maura found herself drowned in violence. Quite literally. She'd gone through four bodies throughout the day and had another five to go. Their only form of communication was a text Jane had sent.
I'll be by around eight. Don't be fancy.
She looks down at her attire and out of reflex her hands slide down the fronts of her thighs. It then occurs to her she isn't wearing a skirt or a dress, but pants. Jane did tell her to not be fancy, and this is as unfancy as Maura Isles gets. She reaches over the sofa to pick up Jane's folded sweats and an open bottle of her beer on the coffee table, all while she makes her way to the door. As suspected her friend displays a frown, but it soon turns upright when she presents what's in her hands.
"Comfort," Maura holds up the blend of cotton and polyester, "and consolation." Her other hand offers the beverage to her friend, its proximity to Jane coinciding with the width of her smile.
"Thank you." Is all she says, and that alone makes Maura match her smile.
Once Jane is changed and downed her beer at a rather fast pace, she leads Maura to the door, eager emotion trembling in her eyes. It wants to get out as much as Jane wants to jump out and into her car. Maura recognizes it immediately but sees no reason to panic. If she'd been afraid, her fingers would be picking at her nails and brushing at her scar. But she isn't, so instead Maura takes a step forward and breathes; loud enough to let her know she's listening but soft enough that it isn't misinterpreted as impatience.
Jane runs a hand through her dark, thick curls. "Ma's seeing someone."
"That's wonderful!" Maura says after a beat, the thought processing quickly through her mind. Jane shoots her a you're-supposed-to-groan-with-me look, but Jane knows better than that. Maura is honest, and because she's honest she repeats her first thought and first feeling once more.
But when the silence prevails in excess of her optimism, she finally sees the distress in the other woman's stance; the craned neck, the weighed down shoulders - the right is slighty straighter than the left, and through the dark olive shirt she imagines the new layer of skin wrinkling. "But you don't think it is." Maura finally says. Jane sighs into her hands, plopping down onto the first stair. "You've always been talking about your Mother needing to get back on to the game, so why are moping when she's done exactly what you wanted?"
"In." Jane says, and the response confuses Maura. "It's in, Maur. Get back in to the game. And I'm not moping. I'm just..."
"Protective?" She finishes, nodding that all knowing nod. "I know you are, Jane. I know, but you have to let her carry her own weight. Think of how irritated you get when she prods you with dates, and think of how close you feel to losing your edge when she begins to criticize them." Jane nods, face still buried in her palms. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." She adds in, the light joke causing the dark head to snap up in response.
"You did not just say that."
Maura simply smiles and saunters her way to the closet, still aware of Jane's decision to hold the conversation so close to the door. She reaches far into the back of her closet and pulls out wedged boots. "Will what we be doing tonight require a lot of tip-toe action?" She puts them on without an answer, intentionally making her question an acceptance of her friend's unsaid request.
Jane rises from her slouched position, shedding the misery as she jumps into her shoes. "He's waiting at the cafè for Ma to finish closing. We have an hour."
The drive, although quick, allow the gears in Maura's head to move a little faster, and it isn't until Jane shuts the engine off that doubt clouds her mind. "Are you sure this is-"
"You agreed." Jane reminds flatly. No sass, no whine, no nothing and before Maura can protest, the genuine worry in the woman's eyes make her head nod once more. To jump from doubt to complete trust is something Maura never does. Perhaps leaving a trail of uncertainty in her wake, but to switch the insecurity off like she just did? This is the first time, and the only person Maura's ever considered to allow such control of her was Jane. Because as good as her own intentions are, she knows Jane's are just the same. It's the expression of their intentions that differ, and it's what fascinates Maura the most about her friend.
She nods again and quietly steps out of the car. Within minutes Jane's unhinged the lock of a window and they've crawled in. This Leo that Jane's Mother hadn't stop talking about seems clean. She observes the tension in Jane's shoulders release with each step taken further into his home; seeing framed photos of family, paintings that're his and paintings he had bought. Maura notices one in particular, and the content combined with choice of frame gives Leo a point in her books.
Jane, though, treats the space like a crime scene. Not really touching anything but closely observing. Circling around an area a few times before moving onto whatever catches her eye next.
Amidst their current law breaking and the panic that Maura would usually suspect herself of feeling by now (but surprisingly didn't), she smiles. She's grateful for the darkness as it conceals other emotions surfacing above her skin, emanating around her. She's nearly out of it when Jane turns on her heel. "Find anything weird?"
Maura shakes her head, a little flustered as she looks to the nearest photo. "He seemed like a good coach for the little league baseball team back in eighty-four." It takes all of her will power to not wipe away the dust on the glass. "Nothing really screams danger here to me."
"Alright." Jane nods, and in the dark but selectively lighted room, Maura sees fingers picking at nails.
She stops them before they begin to pick at the scar in her palm. "Then what's scaring you?" She takes hold of Jane's wrist softly, doing her best to pry them away from one another.
Close enough to feel the trepidation in her sigh, Maura tightens her grip on the woman's wrist as her ears listen to the words of worry. "I just don't want anything to happen to her."
"And nothing won't."
And before either one decides whether to continue the snooping or call it off, a sound outside startles them both. A howling laugh approaches their direction, the small crack of the window allowing the sound to reach far into their ears, ringing out in familiarity. It's then Jane realizes it's her Mother, and within seconds the reassuring grip Maura has on her friend's wrist is reversed, and she's being pulled in all directions with panic.
"What the hell are they doing here!" Jane flicks her watch as the time reads true, cursing under her breath at the unpredictability her Mother. "They aren't supposed to be here for another forty minutes!" She continues to pace and stop, causing Maura to ocasionally bump into her numerous times. When the stairs are omitted along with the bathroom due to excessive sound and far distance from escape, Jane freezes with a blank look on her face.
Then everything comes back to Maura. They're trespassing, they're snooping, they're betraying Angela's trust and they're breaking the law. The last thought sends her body into survival mode, because if there is anything Maura fears, it's the law. As secure as it's supposed to make one feel, the people who try and provide that safety are the ones deprived of the privilege. Because Jane's protected her countless times, and she hasn't done a single thing worthy in returning the favour. So Maura does what Jane's helped her do and acts fast on her feet, and even though leading someone into safety wasn't quite her forte, it's what Jane needs her to do now.
This is something she can do for her best friend.
So she takes the frozen brunette with one hand as she drags them to the door, only to turn and reach for the closet door adjacent to it. She creaks it open and shoves Jane in along with herself, and within moments of hiding, the front door swings open. And before either can acknowledge the fact that Angela is a mere foot away from them, whispering things her daughter and daughter's friend shouldn't hear, the pain in Maura's foot causes her to shift uncomfortably.
And it's then Maura realizes she's pressed against Jane completely, save for their heads that were as far from each other as possible. Her right hand rests between their bodies and lies flat against Jane's abdomen. Her left foot is hovering just above the small carpeted area, trying not to rest on whatever sharp edge it had the misfortune of stepping on earlier. Her left forearm is pressed against the wall, next to Jane's head that does its best to turn away. Her right toe touches the wall, and before Maura can really come to the conclusion that in order for her toe to be touching that, her leg would have to be in between both of Jane's, Angela snorts out a laugh, leading Leo up the stairs as they babble on about their days.
When the bedroom door shuts from upstairs, Maura's had enough time to take in just how close she is to Jane, and knows very well how her right toe can touch the wall she's pressed the woman upon.
She's now the frozen one, surprised to find herself in this position. Yet what surprises her more is the look on the other woman's face, or lack thereof. Jane still has that blank look over her features, though her body full of tension says something different. "Uh, Maura." She finally says, just below a whisper. Maura nods, and when Jane utters out a breath of pain, it's then she realizes where her hand is placed. She muffles her apologetic gasp and uses her forearm to push herself off in the small space.
"I'm so sorry, Jane." She quickly says, her voice laced with shock and guilt. "I'm sorry." Her hand then places itself back over the scar, wiping over the thin shirt as her apologies lower in volume. When her other hand opens the closet door quietly and then the door on the way out, she finds her hand still at Jane's side. It's only when they get to her car a few blocks down that Maura lets go and shuts her lips close, preventing another apology from escaping.
The apology, though, is for herself and the fact that she had to let go so soon.
It isn't until she's in her bed, wide awake at two in the morning that this thought occurs, and it isn't until the sun rises that her analytical mind wears her out into a fitful sleep.
So ends the second part of this story. Hope you all liked it! Leaving reviews aren't necessary but are welcome as I run on them for inspiration. Hope it's developing well for you as I see it in my head. Have a lovely day, wherever you may be!
