Seected Short Subjects

Part 2

Cheese

"I'm so glad I found you."

Jane held her closer. "Well, I'm glad you did. Or I found you. Whatever." Jane was almost asleep.

"No, you don't understand. I didn't want to be last." Maura's breath was light and warm against Jane's back.

"Last?"

"The last woman I know to have...you know. A partner. A spouse. For the longest time I was certain 'd be alone all my life."

Jane felt Maura's lips softly brush her shoulder. "Yeah. I get you. Nobody wants to be the cheese."

"Cheese? Why would I be the cheese? You can't mean that literally."

Jane's eyes flew open. She was fully awake, now. "You never played 'Farmer in the Dell'?"

"No...I don't remember that...what is it?"

"It's a game, Maura. A children's game. All the kids stand in a circle, see, and they...oh, the important part is at the end of the game there's one kid left all by themselves after all the other kids have been picked. There's a song that goes with it, and it ends 'the cheese stands alone.'"

"That sounds very prejudicial."

"That's not the point..."

"What is the point, then?"

"Oh for heaven's...just to have fun."

"Well, it can't be that much fun for the poor kid who has to be the cheese."

"Did you play games when you were a kid?"

"No...not really."

"What did you do for fun?"

"I made a battery out of a lemon when I was four."

"That explains a lot. Go to sleep, Maura."

Possession

Jane drew a cup of coffee, noted the burnt odor, sighed, and let the sugar flow while she looked around the café for Maura. After a puzzled moment of not finding her, she spotted the doctor at a corner table, her back to Jane. She'd know that honey-colored hair anywhere.

As she approached the table she paused. Maura was deep in conversation with another woman, a stunning redhead about Maura's age. As Jane watched, Maura and the stranger exchanged smiles, laughed, and chatted. At one point the woman laid her hand on Maura's forearm. They exchanged what looked like business cards.

Jane's eyes narrowed to slits.

She changed her position, so that Maura could see her. She caught Maura's eye, and Maura gaily waved Jane over to the table. She flashed her private smile, that one that Jane knew was only for her, and Jane's blood pressure came down a few points.

Maura's companion was of medium size, shapely, sapphire-blue eyes looking out from a perfectly symmetrical, oval face. Her hair was a rich, dark red, thick, shiny, long and straight down her back.

She was gorgeous.

Jane would have arrested her for that alone, if she could find a way to call it criminal.

Maura took Jane's hand, squeezed it, then pointed to her companion. "Detective Rizzoli, I'd like you to meet Dr. Sandra Pickthorne. Sandra, Jane is my very best friend, and a homicide detective with the Boston Police. Dr. Pickthorne is a forensic pathologist, and she's an AME in Connecticut. She's here for a professional consultation."

Jane extended her hand unenthusiastically, and gave Dr. Pickthorne (what a name!) her "I really'd rather be anywhere else" smile. Maura said "Please, join us!" Just as Jane was trying to remember if she had to get to a root canal appointment, or something – anything - the redhead said "I really have to go. I need to meet with the State Police Chief at...oh...nine! Maura, this was lovely! Lunch tomorrow?"

"Sure Sandra. Come to my office. The security officer at the front desk will pass you in."

Jane took the empty seat as the interloper left. If Jane could shoot lasers from her eyes, Maura would have vanished in a flash of flame. "What was that all about?"

Maura picked at her breakfast roll. "Connecticut is upgrading their qualifications standards for the coroner's office staff. She's here to find out what we do. She's very nice."

Jane scowled into her coffee. "Yeah. Nice."

"What's the matter? Did you have a bad morning?"

Jane decided that a spat in the middle of the café wasn't in anybody's best interests, so she just grunted agreement, and headed up to Homicide, leaving a concerned and mystified lover in her wake.

Jane's phone rattled on her desk.

Lunch? I got you a meatball sandwich from Pasquale's.

No use letting the best sandwich in Boston go to waste.

Sure. Be down in a minute.

Maura had the food set out, and as Jane sat down – with a moment of awe and worship for another Pasquale's work of art – Maura daintily cut her salad-on-a-roll into small pieces. After they'd both been eating for a while, she looked at her lover and challenged, "All right. What got into you this morning?"

"Like you said. Bad morning."

"Bullshit."

Jane froze in mid-chew, stared at Maura with her mouth full and eyes wide. She mumbled something around a mouthful of meatballs.

"Swallow, Jane."

She did. "You never say that."

"It's the only way I can describe your...attitude! For a moment up there, I was worried! You were armed, and seriously pissed off!" She took a long, calming breath. "And I just want to know why. What'd I do?"

"Do I have to explain? Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"There you were, with the second most gorgeous woman on the planet, and you were all over her! And she was all over you!"

"I was not all over her! We were just getting along. Swapping stories. We do do the same work, after all."

"Maura, she was flirting with you...and you were returning the favor! You..."

"I was not flirting!"

Ohh...you are going to get the worst case of hives...Maura, you flirt with anything that moves! And I saw..."

"You saw me being friendly and cordial with another wom...oh, my god, Jane!"

"What? What?"

Jane...you're jealous. You're positively emerald green with it."

"I am not...how dare..." then Jane just stopped, with her pointed finger in mid-air, a look of supreme indignation frozen on her face; and as Maura watched, that look faded to a downcast, guilty, hand-in-the-cookie-jar expression. But Jane wasn't giving up without at least token resistance.

"Was not. Wasn't jealous. That wasn't it."

"Well then, what was it?"

"I was...wh...Jealousy...I don't...well..I just didn't like seeing you..."

Maura took Jane's hand. "You're floundering. You know I'm right."

"Well, yeah. Maybe. I just...I hated seeing you giving so much attention to her. And she's so...damn."

"She's good looking. Yes. I noticed. But I love you. Just you. Don't you know that yet?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. I just...it just flared up. I was so..."

"What?"

After a long pause, Jane whispered, "scared."

"Scared of her?"

"Of...losing you. Of...I don't know. Being unfavorably compared."

"That's so imm...impossible. Yes. Impossible. No one compares with you. Not for me."

"I know that. I do. I've never felt that before, though. I had this image, of going up there and grabbing her by the scruff of her neck and saying 'she's mine and don't you come near her again!', and tossing her out on her perfect ass. But only for a second. I figured you wouldn't be happy with that."

"No, that's true. But you do have one thing right in there. I am yours."

"I guess I don't really know how to manage that. I've never felt that way about anyone before. I've never loved anyone enough to really be upset if they paid attention to...someone else. I guess I always thought it'd happen eventually, anyway."

"So I am the only person you've ever felt jealously possessive about?"

"Yeah. I should apologize."

"No. you don't have to. I feel flattered, actually."

"Flattered?"

"I adore you. And to know that you want to possess me, to be the only person that has my...attention...that fills me up. I feel such pleasure at knowing that. You know, I feel that way about you, too? And I get jealous, too."

"I've never seen it."

"I don't show it. You know I don't trust emotions. And the silliest things can set me off."

"Like what?

"Well, just as an example, you know you dodged a bullet back there."

"Where?"

When you referred to Sandra as the 'second most gorgeous woman on the planet'."

"Oh? Oh...oh! Yeah. I know who the first is."

"I'm glad you think so."

Maura kissed her, and they both laughed.

Arbor Day

When Maura woke and poured herself some coffee, she saw Jane in the back yard.

Taking pictures.

Why would Jane be taking pictures of my backyard?

Then she corrected herself.

Our backyard.

Maybe she likes the gardening I did. The landscaping is attractive.

Oh well. It is Jane. Who knows?

Days passed, weeks passed, spring matured and hovered on the edge of summer, until on a warm, sunny Saturday Maura woke to a blue-jeaned Jane, coffee and a pastry, and a full picnic basket which Jane whisked into the car along with a bemused Maura, who could only ask "Where are we going?"

"On a picnic." Jane was smiling despite the laconic answer.

Maura smiled weakly, wondering if she was truly competent to diagnose stress-related delusions; Jane was not exactly a picnic person. Or a morning person, for that matter.

But Maura was willing to see where this was going.

They returned in the early evening, sand in their shoes and smelling of the salt air, the picnic consumed at a roadside table on Cape Cod. The view of the ocean, the murmur of waves, and Jane's body beside her, touching her, had calmed Maura's fears, and given her a pleasurable outing. Jane kept looking at her watch, though, and it made Maura wonder when the other shoe would drop.

Jane was practically bursting with anticipation as they entered the house.

Anticipation of...what?

Jane led her through the house, out the back door, and into the yard. Across the small brick patio that fronted the guest house, and back to the garden. Back to the empty corner that Maura had struggled with and given up on.

And there was a tree. Where there had been no tree this morning.

A small tree, true. A sapling. But a tree, nonetheless. And as Maura studied it and imagined it's full growth in her mind's eye, she saw how it would fill that corner gracefully, without shading the other plantings she had made.

And there was an envelope. Hanging from a low branch, from a ribbon.

Jane struck up a pose, spine erect, chin up, as she drew a slip of paper from her pocket. She read, as a recitation:

"This an American hornbeam or blue beech (Carpinus caroliniana). Also called musclewood for its smooth, sinewy gray limbs, this small native is often found in moist, rich soils in the wild. It can also handle heavy clay soil and tough urban conditions, as well as shade, drier soils and occasional flooding. Fall color is yellow to reddish. It grows to a mature size of 20 to 30 feet."

She looked up at Maura, apprehension on her face. "Happy anniversary. I love you."

Maura's first reaction was puzzlement. "Anniversary? What...?"

"Of out first date. When I took you to that arty movie you wanted to see. It was a year ago."

"That was...oh, yes. Our first serious kiss. You bought me a tree?"

"Yeah. Frankie and Tommy and Frost planted it. Tommy worked for a tree service for about two weeks. I warned them not to disturb anything out here. Here." Jane retrieved the envelope from the tree.

In it was a card. Before Maura opened it she paused. "This is what that drive to the cape was about? To get me out of the house?"

"Yeah. The said they needed most of a day."

"It's lovely. Thank you." Maura gave Jane a kiss, a light peck, while she worked the envelope open.

Inside the envelope was a plain white card, with "Happy Anniversary" in raised lettering. Inside, in Jane's handwriting, Maura read,

"To Maura. The most challenging tree I've ever had to climb.

But the view from up here is breathtaking.

Love you forever,

Jane."

Maura never understood how it was so easy for Jane Rizzoli to make her cry.

Satori

Jane was cheating.

Maura wouldn't see her do it. As long as Jane kept quiet, Maura would never know.

Maura was in a beatific state, completely unaware of what Jane was doing. All Jane wanted was for Maura to stay there and not nag her.

If Maura knew; if Maura found out, things would get unpleasant.

But Jane couldn't resist.

Maura's neck was so graceful, her breasts rising and falling in such a gentle, arousing rhythm, her face so beautifully peaceful, that Jane just couldn't resist reaching out to touch her.

This meditation crap was for the birds, anyway.

She'd been sitting here, first with her legs knotted up in lotus and then, up on her knees, while Maura just blissed out, her eyes closed, her mind turned (so she said) inward.

Jane never got it. For her, inner peace was a cold beer, the Sox in the playoffs, and Maura snuggled tightly against her on the couch.

Or in bed. Naked. Whatever.

So Jane reached out, with one long finger, and gently stroked the side of Maura's neck.

Maura didn't flinch, didn't open her eyes, didn't change the rhythm of her breathing. The only sign that she was aware of Jane's touch was the light pink flush that spread up her face.

She said, calmly, but clearly, "If my meditation routine is uninterrupted, my energy will be much higher, and the subsequent sex will be that much more enthusiastic."

Jane retracted her hand.

"Give me fifteen minutes more, Jane."

"Fifteen minutes? Okay."

The corners of Maura's mouth turned up slightly.

"Well, maybe ten."