I want to say two things. Firstly, I am deeply saddened by the loss of Lee Thompson Young. He was a great actor, and the world never got to see enough of him. Although I am insignificant, I want to dedicate this chapter to him. Lee meant a lot to the show and the fans, and I hope he rests in peace.
Secondly, I want to thank you so much for all your follows, favourites and reviews. Every time a new email came through, my bad day was made brighter. I really appreciate you all. :) Okay, enough jibber jabber – here's chapter two!
Jane glared at the Google logo, fingers hovering over the keyboard of her laptop. Taking a deep breath, she tapped at the keys. Dreams about… But she paused before she could type the rest of the suddenly absurd sentence in her head. Am I really Googling the significance of a random, one-off dream? Jane almost laughed at herself. Pummeling the 'backspace' key, she clicked out of the window and slammed the computer shut. Stupid idea.
Jane sighed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She was sitting at Maura's sun-drenched breakfast counter, trying not to think too hard while she waited for her friend to finish showering. This is ridiculous. Snap out of it, Rizzoli. She picked at a thread that had come loose on the hem of her shirt, forehead creased in thought. She had never seen Maura as anything but a close friend, one of the few people she felt completely comfortable with. But the passion and intimacy she felt in that dream had shaken her to the core, caused her to question things that had never occurred to her before.
If the dream had been about anyone else, Jane would have been surprised, yes, and definitely embarrassed, but after these feelings had dissipated, she would have brushed it off. She was reasonably comfortable enough in her own sexuality to be mostly unrattled by those kinds of dreams. But Maura. Maura. That was the part that had left her dazed, the factor that had changed everything.
I love Maura as a friend. She's like a sister to me. But now, looking at her emotions through fresh eyes, Jane felt a growing sense of unease. She pressed her hands to her face, trying to sift through her feelings. She could, to a certain extent, explain the thrill she felt every time she made Maura laugh. The pure terror she felt whenever she was in danger, or the blinding rage that overcame her when someone hurt her. Those were feelings you had for people you loved. But what she couldn't explain was the small lurch in her stomach whenever they touched, whenever they shared a smile or joke. It was an uncontrollable flutter of… something. A something that she was hesitant to examine too closely. She shook her own head dazedly. You are actually having a sexuality crisis in your 30's because of a single dream.
A heavy scraping noise made Jane flinch, jolting her out of her thoughts, and she looked down to see Bass lumbering around the doorframe.
"Oh, it's you." She tucked her feet up under the stool, eyeing the overgrown turtle warily. "What, are you hungry or somethin'?" Bass didn't reply, only continued his slow journey into the kitchen. "How often do you eat anyway?" Jane wondered aloud as the thought hit her. Her own tortoise was tiny, small enough to be kept in a glass tank, and she just fed it when the pile of greenery looked low.
"I put hay and greens down every morning for him to graze." Jane jumped at Maura's voice – she hadn't even heard her enter the room. The blonde was dressed in yoga pants, a plain t-shirt and weird little sock-slippers, her half-damp hair yet to be styled. It was an outfit that she would only ever wear around home, probably one that Jane and Angela alone had seen her in. Yet somehow she managed to look perfectly put together, in the way only Maura could. "It's nice to see you two bonding," Maura added as she stuck her head into a pristinely organized cabinet.
Jane let out a small snort of laughter. "Yeah, he's a real chatterbox. Can't get him to shut up." It was testament to their relationship that Maura simply shot Jane an amused glance in reply.
In the early days of their friendship, Maura had been completely befuddled by any and all kinds of sarcasm. For someone like Jane, who could practically put 'sarcasm' as a second language on her resume, this had been extremely frustrating. Jane had been forced to explain 'that was sarcasm' through gritted teeth to a confused or hurt Maura every time she used it (which was often). But now, 6 years later, Maura was well-versed in her best friend's humour, and even made a sarcastic statement herself every so often, to Jane's delight.
Maura was now holding up a jar labeled 'coffee', waving it tantalizingly in Jane's direction. "Would you like a cup?" Jane perked up at the sight of the elixir of life.
"Mm, caffeine," she sighed by way of response, watching as Maura began to make the drinks. Her hands moved deftly, scooping up a spoonful of dark powder and pressing it carefully into the filter head of her fancy machine. Maura was sort of a coffee snob, whereas Jane would take anything hot and caffeinated. Making crazy-expensive cups of coffee in her crazy-expensive espresso machine made Maura happy. But not quite as happy as spouting endless facts made her.
"This coffee is grown on the Blue Mountains in Jamaica - the cool air and excellent quality of the soil gives the beans a mild flavor that is very sought after." Maura informed Jane as she turned the machine on, immediately filling the kitchen with the warm scent of brewing coffee. "They are also used in making specific kinds of coffee liquor," She continued animatedly, pulling two mugs from a shelf above her head.
Jane nodded, vaguely interested, but barely suppressing an eye roll. Maura literally couldn't help herself – every normal, daily activity had to come in the Commentary with Doctor Maura Isles version. She poured the coffee with a flourish, adding the exact amount of milk and sugar that Jane liked without even thinking about it.
"Thanks, Maura." Jane reached for the drink, craving a caffeine hit. As Maura passed Jane her steaming cup of coffee, her delicate fingers brushed against Jane's, immediately sparking a briefly-forgotten memory. Hands, Maura's hands, running down my back, stroking my face, buried in my hair… Jane fumbled the mug, dripping some of the hot liquid onto the counter and all over her hands. Shit.
"Are you alright?" Maura asked as she immediately pulled Jane's hands into her own, examining the coffee-drenched fingers for burns. Jane held her breath, fighting the sudden, unexpected rush of the something fluttering, wilder than ever, in her stomach.
"Well, Doctor? Will you need to amputate?" Jane attempted to joke in a mock-stern tone, but it sounded feeble to her own ears. Maura's lips turned up slightly at the corners, but she said nothing.
Evidently concluding that Jane's hands could stay attached to her arms, Maura handed her a napkin, and she cleaned up her mess. Jane's hands felt strangely empty without Maura's, so she grabbed the coffee mug, a second-rate replacement. Maura took a sip of her own coffee, looking properly into Jane's face for the first time that morning. A concerned expression darkened her chocolate eyes, her brow creasing.
"Periorbital puffiness and hyperpigmentation… You didn't sleep well." Maura said as she examined Jane's face closely. It didn't feel like an observation, however – more like a not-so-subtle invitation for Jane to explain the previous night. Maura's lovely face had softened, and with the light streaming through the window behind her head, Jane had the fleeting thought that she looked almost angelic. Where did that thought come from? What the hell has gotten into you, Rizzoli? She stayed silent, tugging at her shirt's loose thread again.
"Jane, are you having the nightmares again?" Maura asked for the second time, causing Jane to glance up. Her gaze was compassionate, gently pleading for an answer. Jane was unable to look into those earnest eyes - she dropped her gaze, taking a gulp of coffee before replying.
"Nah, I haven't had a nightmare in months. I just had trouble sleeping last night, was all." Jane smiled reassuringly, but it felt stiff on her own face. "Don't worry about me." Growing up in the intrusive, demanding Rizzoli household, Jane had become a fairly convincing liar. As much as she hated lying to Maura (it felt especially wrong because Maura was what Jane secretly called untruth-challenged, unable to lie without instantly coming up in hives), this lie felt necessary. Just the thought of telling Maura about her strange and erotic dream made her feel like crawling under the nearest rock and staying there for the rest of eternity.
Maura eyed Jane for a long moment, her soft eyes scanning Jane's face for whatever visual clues she could find there. The keen gaze, once so familiar to Jane, now felt too intense. Flashbacks of the dream were circling through her mind, like a TV screen she couldn't shut off, the same scenes on repeat...
And in that moment – with her stomach flooded with crackling electricity, her eyes locked on Maura's, her head filled with those sensual images – Jane knew, with startling clarity, that her dream had held a seed of truth.
Bzz bzz!
Jane practically threw herself at her buzzing cellphone, silently thanking God for the welcome intrusion. She was almost certain Maura had spotted something in her eyes, and deliberately avoided her gaze as she answered her phone.
"Rizzoli." As Frost spoke on the other end, she gulped down a few more mouthfuls of coffee. "Be right there," She barked into the phone, hitting 'end' and leaping from her seat. "I gotta go, something's come up on a case," She told Maura, grabbing her keys and hunting around for her blazer.
She needed to quickly drop by her house to change clothes – someone was sure to notice if she wore the same shirt two days in a row. People would talk, no doubt, although she had only stayed the night at Maura's… She winced at the connotation, which normally wouldn't even be on her radar. She felt uncharacteristically muddled, fuzzy around the edges, with only one clear thought – Crap. I think I love her. I think I actually LOVE her.
She finally found her jacket, which she had evidently tossed at one of Maura's dining room chairs. "I need to grab a change of clothes, I'll see you later, 'kay? Thanks for letting me stay over." Her voice was strained, a poor attempt at nonchalance. Jane realized she was being an ass, but she couldn't help herself – things were just getting too crazy, and she felt like her brain would explode if she spent any more time around Maura.
She desperately needed to think, to sort through her jumbled feelings, to forget, to laugh hysterically, to lick her wounds in private... She honestly didn't know. All she knew was that she needed to get away. As she threw herself through the door, the last image she saw was of her best friend, standing in the hallway with an undecipherable expression on her face.
"See you soon..?" Came the confused reply, muffled through the door which Jane had already slammed.
I hope you enjoyed – I loved writing domestic Rizzles with a hint of angst. I wrote this before the latest episode, and it was such a weird coincidence that Jane's nightmares really did come back! The next chapter should be up pretty soon – I've written a few chapters in advance because I just couldn't stop writing haha. If you have any sparks of inspiration, or have some scenes/prompts/anything you want to happen, feel free to suggest away! I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Oh also – if you have any Fic recs, you should send them to me on tumblr (oops-there-goes-my-sanity). Feel free to shamelessly self-advertise, or tell me your favourites.
~ R.I.P. Lee Thompson Young 3 ~