I look across the car at Jane Rizzoli sound asleep in my passenger seat. Another observation. Jane never sleeps in the middle of the day. Not being up 27 hours straight working on a case nor an injury would knock this detective on her feet. But being under the weather will surely take away my detective's bite. I sit quietly and watch her chest rise and fall. A soft murmur of sounds comes from her throat. She isn't exactly talking in her sleep but making sounds. I can sense her discomfort sitting up but I really don't want to wake her up; not yet. For my own selfish reasons I like being able to watch her eyes move swiftly back and forth behind closed lids, hoping that she is dreaming about me. About us. A whimper fills my ears. I instantly reach over and gently touch her cheek.
"Jane, we're home," I say softly caressing her skin.
Her eyes flutter open and she stretches slightly before recoiling to her previous position.
"Ughh."
"Sweetie?"
"Maura? Where?" she wraps arms around her midsection.
"In my car. We're outside your apartment building. Let's get you inside."
I'm on her side faster than thought possible. I extended my hand and help her out my low riding car. She winces slightly but still tries to put up a brave front.
"I just have a little stomachache, Maura. I'm not an invalid," she gripes as I wrap my arm around her waist for support.
I don't respond with words but hold her tighter. I feel her heat radiating from her body. It's surprisingly easy getting her up the stairs. No complaints just compliancy. I open the door and instantly realize that we are not greeted by Joe Friday.
"Jane, where's Joe?"
"Frankie has her. He's had her for the past two days."
"Why?"
"Something about her being a chick magnet," she sighs as she shrugs off her jacket.
I watch it fall to the floor as she sits on the couch.
"Jane," I chastise.
"What?" she asks looking up at me from her slumped position.
"Nothing," I sigh, bending to retrieve her jacket from the floor and draping it across the lone chair in the room.
I watch as she closes her eyes once again and slips into a light sleep. I take this opportunity to clean her apartment. I didn't want to comment on the untidiness of her home when we came thru the door and decided that as soon as she was down, I would do a quick but sufficient cleaning. I carefully lock the door and begin my task of picking up Joe Friday's toys that lay scattered around the apartment. I place all of them in Joe's toy box and then go about stacking unread mail neatly on the hall table. I work my way around the room and check on Jane before venturing into the bedroom. She has slid further down on the couch, leaning over to the side of the arm. Her left arm is folded under her head for more support as she sleeps. I reach forward and smooth her hair off her forehead.
Her bedroom, as I had predicted was a mess. Socks litter the floor, to which I pick up and place in the hamper in the corner. A few pairs of pants are thrown over the back of the open closet door. I pair them up with their matching jackets and fold them to put in a garment bag to be taken to the dry cleaners another day. Hopefully tomorrow. I change her bed sheets and toss her Nonna's hand knitted blanket across the bottom. I crack the window slightly to let in some fresh air. I stand back and smile at my accomplishment. Time to wake the princess.
"Come on, Jane. I don't see what the big deal is. I've seen you in your underwear. And I'm a doctor." I say with my hands on my hips, rapidly losing my patience.
"You're a doctor for the dead. And I'm not dead!" She squawks at me.
If she wasn't being difficult, I would find her pitch change cute.
"And you will be dead, if you don't let me examine you," I say calmly. "It's my way or we go to the emergency room and let a big ugly man nurse examine you," I point out.
I watch as she honest to God thinks about her choices!
"Fine. Fine. Fine!," she relents and rips her t-shirt over her head faster than she intended. "Oh god, that's hurts," she whispers.
Her face goes pale and I can see that she has stopped breathing.
"Jane!," I scramble to her side and encourage her to breathe. "Breathe, Jane. You have to breathe."
I walk her over to the bed and we slowly sit down. I somehow get her calm enough to resume the regular in and out technique of breathing.
"Better?" I ask.
"Yea."
"Ready to do this my way?"
"Yea."
"Good," I say. "Let me help you get the rest of these clothes off."
