A/N: The more time I've had to think about this story, the more I think of what things I'd like to do. So it'll be more than a two-shot. Not necessarily a linear narrative as much as just sort of chunks out of this relationship. When I think about early canon Jane and Maura, they have this insane sexual chemistry but SO many differences that could make a viable relationship difficult, and I think would be interesting to tease those out. I can't promise regular updates, but I'd like to come back to this when I can.

Normally I don't throw these two together so fast, but I guess was I thinking of that time in 1x6 when Maura so eagerly encouraged Jane to sleep with her attractive but dull date. That's who this Maura is.

It was a little after eight-thirty when Maura heard her doorbell ring.

Of course she had no idea that Jane had spent about five minutes on the porch in shock, checking multiple times that she was at the right address. She hadn't been expecting Maura's home to look like anything in particular, but the grandness of the house was a surprise—her apartment was probably the size of this garage. But there was no reason at all to feel intimidated; Maura had invited her here. The impulse was to associate a place like this with some level of snobbery, which seemed very unlikely given what she knew of Maura so far.

Okay! Good pep talk. You got this.

By the time Maura opened the door, Jane had been able to swing back to the more confident state of mind that had brought her here—the one which remembered Maura had invited her over on her birthday. The Maura who had said she found Jane incredibly sexy.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Jane said when Maura opened the door. Still in uniform, she pulled her hair out of its bun and removed her shades. "I hear it's someone's birthday. Your neighbors have been calling in with some noise complaints."

Maura's blank stare lasted only a few seconds, but going that long with no reaction was excruciating to Jane. She had yet to be familiar with the thought process Maura needed to undergo whenever she was caught off guard by something whose purpose was to elicit laughter.

The police? – oh, it's Jane.

Why was she wearing her Aviators at night? – oh, this is her police officer take on that "sexy librarian" thing so many dates have asked me to do.

Noise complaints? How is that possible when all I've been doing is watching television by myself? – oh right, this is sort of what that stripper dressed as a cop said at Ann's bachelorette party.

Wait, is she about to strip? – no, that's a real uniform. She can't just yank the pants off.

Both of them were wondering if it was an appropriate joke to make when they'd really only just been properly introduced, but Maura at last laughed and opened the door wide enough for Jane to walk inside. The ball was in Maura's court to dictate how much further she let the joke go: "I must say, I've never had a uniformed officer on my porch. Am I in trouble?"

"I don't know," Jane said, raising one eyebrow for dramatic effect. "You tell me."

Maura looked at Jane a few moments longer, unconsciously biting her lip and running her finger down the side of her wine glass. Before she could say anything, Jane spoke up again.

"Sorry if that was kinda weird," she chuckled. "I was just being a bit of a goof, I guess. I do that sometimes. Helps blow off a little steam after work." She twirled her hat in her hands. "Also, I remembered what you said about my hair and the uniform."

"That was sweet of you," Maura said. She reached out to touch Jane's hair, but first asked, "May I?"

The fact that she asked, and that it wasn't a rhetorical question, really meant a lot to someone whose youth had consisted of multiple people (including strangers) remarking on the beauty of her curls and touching them without permission. She whispered that it was fine, and Maura gently reached out to run her fingers through Jane's hair. Any time she came up against a tangle, she would deftly extract rather than try to force her finger through it.

You're going about this backwards. If you keep going in this vein, you're going to jump her right this second, and that's not what you asked over for. At least, not at the outset.

"Would you like some Chardonnay?" Maura asked, hand now securely back in her pocket. "Or sorry, would you like to change first?"

"I guess I should," Jane said. "These uniforms weren't really designed for relaxation."

"They don't breathe."

"Well, I guess that's it, in a word!"

The response came out before Maura could pause to help herself: "That was three words."

"Yeah, well, I'm a heavy tipper," Jane said with a cheesy wink. She tugged at her backpack strap and asked, "Bathroom?"

Maura directed her towards it and returned to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine for Jane. If she were honest with herself, Maura knew part of her attraction to Jane had to do with the way she filled out that uniform. (She did not consider physical attraction at all shallow, but did sometimes question whether liking the uniform could be considered a fetish.) Mentally playing dress-up with people she knew was a game she often played to pass the time – strictly a PG version, where Sergeant Korsak wore suits that fit him and Susie Chang wore shoes that were more adventurous. She had been very drawn to the way Jane's classical feminine features contrasted with the masculinity of her uniform and even the way she often carried herself at the precinct. Although Maura had envisioned a multitude of ensembles Jane would kill in, she'd been unable to guess what she might wear off the job.

"I almost feel like I'm dressed too casually to be allowed in this house," Jane joked upon her return.

Dark blue jeans and a yellow, wrinkled top. Far below Jane's clotheshorse potential, but at least the yellow provided a nice splash of color.

"That shirt is a nice color on you."

"Thanks."

"Have you always been that tall? I mean, were you tall for your age as a kid? Did people ever tell you that you should be a model?"

"They used to all the time when I was younger, yeah," Jane laughed as Maura handed her a glass of wine. (She'd been planning on just asking for water or waiting if maybe some other type of alcoholic beverage would be offered, because for the life of her she'd never been able to acquire a taste for wine. But now that Maura was handing her the glass, it seemed rude to refuse it.) "I think my mom really hoped I'd be flattered and eventually try to follow-up with modeling, but I leant my tallness to sports instead."

"Basketball?" Maura asked, leading the way to the couch.

"Captain of the volleyball team, and a couple of years of field hockey. I was an attacker."

Maura smirked. "Yes, I'm sure you were very aggressive."

"It's a position," Jane said. "My mother mostly approved because it was the only time I was willing to put on a skirt. Although I hear kids are fighting that more these days – we definitely didn't have a choice."

"Your mother must've had a fit when you decided to become a police officer."

"Well, she at least had fair warning," Jane chuckled. "I've wanted to be a cop practically my whole life. Not an easy dream when you're surrounded by a kinda traditional family. Know what my grandfather told me? He said boys are cops, girls are meter maids. Kinda wish he could see me now." (Maura wasn't sure what sort of sentiment to respond with, and also wondered how Jane's "traditional" family felt about her being interested in women. But their first real conversation together didn't feel the like time to bring that up, unless Jane volunteered it herself.) She went on: "What about you, did you always want to cut up dead people?"

Maura laughed at the candid description. "I suppose it's hard to explain the nature of my work without being grisly, isn't it? But come on, Jane. Let's not have any shop talk right now. I know what you do, you know what I do."

"In the vaguest sense," Jane said.

But Maura held her ground. After years of experience, she'd learned that few things could sour a date faster than getting carried away talking about the morgue. "Tell me more about TJ. You said he wanted you to ask me out? Is that true, or was it just your cover?"

"Aw, c'mon!" Jane said with one of her boisterous laughs, which had quickly become Maura's new favorite sound. "I'm not that shy, to make up an excuse to ask you out! He just kinda gave me that nudge to get going. He seems to really like you a lot." She smiled when Maura looked pleased by this, and she deduced that Maura wasn't used to kids liking her. "Yeah. He says you're very smart, and you tell it like it is. I respect that. People who don't talk down to kids, I mean."

"It goes against my nature." She grinned. "What did he tell you about me? You mentioned my liking tennis and chocolate. Did he tell you anything else?"

"Let's see. He said you were honest. Said you were 'a doctor or something,' said you thought it was an 'abomination'—he had trouble with that word—when Christmas music gets played before December, and he mentioned you had a turtle?"

"Tortoise," Maura muttered under her breath.

Jane's eyes lit up. "Oh! And he said you claim to play a mean game of chess."

"Whenever I get the chance," Maura chuckled. "I've found that most opponents aren't really worth my time. That leaves the most extravagant birthday gift my parents ever sent me—" She nodded at a cabinet behind Jane. "—to do little more than collect dust." Jane whistled. The pieces were made of jade and what appeared to be gold-plated brass (or something along those lines), and when she stood up to get a closer look, could see that each piece had been hand-carved. "They picked it up when they visited Xi'An in China two years ago. I love a good chess game," Maura continued from the couch, "but I don't often have people over. And when I do, they don't usually present much of a challenge."

She took a long sip of wine, eyebrows raised, and Jane took the bait. "Okay, Dr. Isles. You're looking at the reigning Rizzoli chess champion."

"TJ told me as much."

"Well what he doesn't know is that I could even beat you buzzed. Tipsy. Maybe even drunk."

"Not off that," Maura laughed. "You haven't even taken a sip!" She got up to walk over to Jane, who appeared to be fumbling for some sort of excuse or apology. "Why don't I take that off your hands," Maura murmured, standing indecently close as she lifted the glass out of Jane's hand, "and get you something you like?"

For a few moments, Jane forget how to formulate speech. "Um. Uh." She blinked hard, half-expecting Maura to be back on the couch when she opened her eyes, but there she still stood—although the look on Maura's face certainly seemed to suggest they were in another room of the house. "Have you got any, um… any… whiskey?"

Maura laughed. "I didn't think people with your youthful vitality would go for whiskey."

"Har, har."

"A Jack and Coke?"

"Nah. Give it to me straight up."

"Oh, come on," Maura scoffed. "I still want you to at least have to try and beat me in this game."

"And I will. Gimme the whiskey."

"Ginger ale on the side?"

"Have some confidence in me, doc."

Maura smirked again. "Straight-up it is."

She walked back to grab her own wine glass, placing it and Jane's at a nearby table. Though she never drank Jack Daniels herself, a bottle of it was always in her home in case a particular visitor ever dropped by unexpectedly. She was sure he wouldn't mind sharing it with Jane, and just hoped Jane wouldn't question her having it in the house.

Of course she won't. She doesn't know well enough to think it's out of character.

"Care to try and throw off my concentration with anything else?" Jane asked when Maura returned with the glass. When she realized how suggestive that sounded, she hastened to suggest, "Put on some music or something? Next disc of Planet Earth?"

"Well, since you suggested it…"

Of course Maura had a record player. Normally Jane would dismiss something like that as hipster nonsense, but it was easy to see from the sheer class Maura exuded that she didn't own this in an attempt to be cool (even when she talked about the richer sound and inherently superior quality of the record). When the music started and Jane asked what they were listening to, Maura said, "It's a collaboration between Sinatra and the Brazilian musician Jobim." She unblushingly added, "Actually I thought of this song the first time I saw you, and it still makes me think of you."

That of course got Jane's attention right away, and as Maura set up the chessboard on the table, Jane took in the lyrics:

Tall and tan and young and lovely,

the girl from Ipanema goes walking and

when she passes, each one she passes goes—

A breathy, wistful romantic sigh issued from the record player. Jane, who had been staring at a nondescript spot on the carpet as she listened, moved her eyes to Maura, who was finishing up the board and had started to dance a little as she walked towards Jane.

When she walks she's like a samba

that swings so cool and sways so gentle that

when she passes each one she passes goes—

"Ooh," Maura cooed, sighing in time with the song.

She handed Jane the whiskey, but for as dizzy as she suddenly felt, Jane thought she might've been buzzed already. When Maura sashayed back to the table to the gentle rhythm of the song, Jane was hypnotized and almost tripped twice (an impressive feat, given that it only took five steps to get there). Her concentration on the lyrics had ebbed, but came back in time for –

But each day when she walks to the sea,

She looks straight ahead, not at me.

"I'm not sure that lyric could've reminded you of me," Jane chuckled. "I'm pretty sure every time I've seen you at the precinct, I've looked straight at you. Or gay-ly at you, if you will," she said, earning a small laugh. "Hopefully not to the point that it was indecent."

"Certainly not, officer," Maura said, and hearing the title from her lips made Jane instantly understand why so many people considered her uniform a turn-on. "Seeing that you were happy to see me made me happy." She lifted her wine glass before adding, "People are attracted to people who are attracted to them."

Seeing Maura say that over the rim of her glass made Jane want to toss the table out of the way and kiss her right then. Her hands were on either side of the table, as if she might in fact do just that, but she reconsidered upon looking down and remembering this chess set was not made of plastic.

"So…just out of curiosity, how much would it cost me if I accidentally broke one of these pieces?"

"Monetarily, I'm not sure offhand. But I can say it would lessen your odds of getting lucky tonight."

Jane's eyes widened as she was again taken aback by Maura's frankness. "Right. Slow and steady it is, then."

Maura fast realized that TJ's evaluation of Jane's skills hadn't been empty or ignorant praise of his favorite aunt. Usually Maura could win a game of chess with her eyes closed (so to speak)—she had thought she'd maybe at least be able to strike up a good conversation, but she found it necessary to pay strict attention to Jane's every action, down to the most minute detail. At least, that's mostly what she was doing. She also couldn't help just admiring the peerless beauty of Jane's face in concentration – how her jaw would tighten, her brow crease as long, slender fingers hovered over a given piece.

And then the corners of her mouth would tug upwards once she'd made her move. At first, she tried to keep a neutral expression; but the more she drank, the wider her grin would get.

When enough time had passed, she started to get a little careless, and proudly made a move which left her queen wide open. Chuckling at the triumphant grin on Jane's face, Maura said, "My, my. You're what my first boss would've called a cocky son of a bitch."

"Whoa, Dr. Isles!" Jane laughed. "Our priest growin' up always said that bad language was a sign of someone with an ill education. Like, you'd only use those words if you weren't intelligent enough to know others."

"Is that so?" Maura asked. She took out Jane's queen with one of her knights. "No offense, but your priest doesn't know sh—"

"Shhhhooot," Jane groaned, realizing her loss. She looked rather cute in her confusion, Maura thought – like a cat who couldn't understand what'd happened to the bubble she'd just popped. But Jane soon straightened up and said, "No big. I can still whip your ass..." She paused to hiccup, missing Maura's intrigued reaction. "...at this game without a queen."

"All right. Why don't we make this a little more interesting, then? Create some stakes. Say, if I win, you have to let me take you shopping for new clothes. I want to help you reach your potential."

"Ughhh. You're gonna have a horrible time, man, trust me. I mean if you ask me, clothes are just something you put on to avoid being arrested."

Maybe it was partially due to the wine, but Maura felt like she hadn't laughed so much in one evening in a long time. "Yes, well, I'm willing to risk any unpleasantness."

"Okay, you've been foreordained. I mean, forewarned. Hm…I guess I don't really know you well enough to decide what to ask for if—when—I win."

"TJ told me you want to make detective. You should be learning how to pick up clues."

That was a fair point. "Mm…all I can think is that I wanna make you chug a beer if I win," she said, and the disgust on Maura's face made it clear this was indeed a fate she wanted to avoid. "But I dunno. Would it be cheating to ask for a rain-check? I kinda wanna get to know you better before I ask you to commit to something, because everything I'm come up with right now is, like, sexy. Generic sexy. If I win, I wanna get to know you better."

"Oh, Jane. You'll get to know me better regardless of whether you win." She crossed her legs under the table, her foot brushing Jane's shin in the process. While Jane tried to figure out if that had been done on purpose, Maura added, "If you win, I'll show you the last thing I bought when I went clothes shopping. I think you'll like my taste."

"Hmm…kay. I've never really been one for fashion shows, but I think you'd be a pretty sweet model."

Maura lost on purpose. She wasn't sure if Jane caught that or not – likely not.

"Whoa," Jane muttered. "I wasn't expecting to win so quick. I almost feel kinda bad, beating you on your birthday and everything."

"Don't feel badly, please. It was a wonderful gift just to enjoy the challenge of a game. You really are impressive, I must say – especially given all that whiskey. How drunk would you say you are, anyway?"

"Mm…I'd say that I've had enough to get really brave," she said. "Anymore and I might start weeping." When she hiccuped again, she could smell her breath, and she took a stick of spearmint gum from a pack in her back pocket to chew on.

After a few moments of silence, Maura steeled herself to ask, "What's your game, Jane?"

"We just played it, honey."

"No, I mean…" She sighed. "What's your angle—with me? Are you one of those girls who likes to find a woman a little older than you, women you think are sad and lonely and feel underappreciated—bed them just to give them a little esteem?" She took her last sip of wine, trying to remain calm under Jane's stare. "Because I've met those college Casanovas before, and I—"

"Casanova?" Jane laughed. "Please! I'm—hell. No. And you, low esteem? Pshh. You're confident. And that's sexy. Real sexy. Almost as sexy as I'm sure you're gonna look wearing … whatever you said you were gonna wear if I won."

Maura smirked and stood up from the table. "Right. I'll just need a moment. Would you mind putting these glasses in the sink? I'll be right back."

On her way out of the room, Maura removed the record from the player. When Jane got up from her chair, she felt like the sound was magnified tenfold in the new silence. She carefully collected their glassware to put them in the sink, then spent a couple of minutes searching for a garbage can to spit her gum into. Once this was accomplished, she leaned against the nearest wall and closed her eyes. Work had been long and tiring today, and normally she'd have loved to just go home and crash, but the the thought of resisting an invitation to Maura's home hadn't even crossed her mind.

Her family used to tease her about being a grandpa because, like her grandfather, she had an impressive ability to fall asleep anywhere, in any position, at the drop of a hat.

She had no idea how long she'd been resting against the wall when she heard Maura murmur her name. When she opened her eyes, she saw Maura standing on the other side of the room in a long, black robe. Jane blinked. Was that lace?

"You look tired," Maura observed in a quiet voice.

Jane shrugged, still leaning against the wall. "Been a long day. But I knew I had this to look forward to, and that's helped."

"Looking forward to what, exactly?"

"You. Just spending time with you."

Maura could feel herself reacting to the sweet vulnerability in Jane's soft tone. While she'd never seen Jane get tough or abrasive around BPD, she had to imagine that as an officer, Jane did have to once in a while. This sensitive, quiet side was unexpected, and Maura hoped it wasn't just brought out by alcohol. Jane had stirred something within her that Maura hadn't felt in a very long time; it was as if they'd known each other much longer than they really had, as if their game and conversation tonight had only been the most recent in a countless stream of them.

She had never been shy or self-conscious about herself or what she wanted before, and she wasn't going to start now.

"Jane? Would you like to stay?"

"Hm? Of course. How's about that robe? Is that your most recent purchase?"

"Not quite."

In one fluid movement Maura let the robe fall to the floor, leaving her in a black lace bra and boyshorts. Until this moment, Jane had never really given much importance to matching lingerie, but hot damn. She briefly felt guilty for staring, but a smile crept into place at the realization that that was what Maura was inviting her to do.

That, and possibly more.

That and definitely more, evidenced by Maura's expectant expression as she said, "Your move, officer."