Four

After driving home from an awkward meal of epic proportions, you shut your front door behind you, toss your keys, kick your shoes off along the way and fall back on your couch in an exhausted heap. Even though Riley sort of apologized for her outburst when she got back, the big elephant in the room stifled the free flow of any further conversation.

You almost wish you hadn't brought the Denise situation up at all because you could literally see the pity in their eyes whenever they would dare to meet yours. That's the last thing in the world you want your friends to feel for you, but you just realised you have become that girl in cautionary tales on relationships.

It makes you angry though. It's not like they have any right to judge. Is everything really so black and white when everyone is all sorts of shades in-between?

You feel a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Hey, baby. You look tired."

You wear an easy smile and sigh. "Mm…"

She runs her fingers through your hair in that way that always makes you sleepy and you don't fight the familiar feeling. "I hope you don't mind me waiting in here for you."

You lick your dry lips. "I don't."

"Good." Denise settles down on the coffee table, facing you with expectant eyes but she says no more. This must be her 'we need to talk' face.

"If you planned on us talking, we should do it before I fall asleep."

She gives you a brief smile before talking into her lap where her hands fidget. "Was that note…" She clears her throat. "Did you have someone over last night? Here?"

You immediately sit up. "Yes."

You can tell she hates it… the thought of someone else's hands on you. Touching you… You stiffen when you remember what took place on this very couch… and the floor… and an involuntary glance at the front door has your temperature rising in a panic. If Denise even knew the half of it, she may not still be here.

"She was just a… a random girl, right? It didn't mean anything?" Though posed as a question, her tone is pleading.

You can't stand to look at her so you stare at her hands as well, mumbling into the quiet of your living room. "No. She's a stranger."

And even though you know that the right answer has some truth to it, you wonder if perhaps it isn't the only truth. Did last night mean anything?

Your eyes register movement and you lose your thought-trail when Denise nods to herself as if she has made sense of it all. "So, you were upset… had a few drinks… and someone just happened to be in a position to take advantage of your vulnerability," she tells herself out loud. "And we were sorta broken up, so I get it. This Jane-person? She doesn't mean anything… Right?"

"Denise…" You place your palms on her lap. "You have to understand that even though I was angry and sad and hurt and hadn't set out to bring anyone home with me, I was still a consenting adult. I am not a victim. But now that we're back together, I don't want this hanging over us. It was just a one-night… thing. I don't plan on ever repeating it."

"I know, I know. I just… I guess I feel a little guilty because if it wasn't for me-"

"Sh… I already forgave you. I love you," you say, hoping it's enough to close this weird conversation.

She smiles, eyes disappearing into slits and dimples denting her cheeks. She leans in and kisses your waiting mouth before pulling back. "I love you too… See? We can communicate just fine."

You smile back because hers is infectious. All the anger, sadness and some of the hurt of the past week is like water off a duck's back and you just want to not have that baggage for a while yet. "Thank you for being so understanding."

"Of course…" She kisses the crown of your head and rubs her hand up and down your arm. "If anything, you're the one who's been understanding… I want this to work more than anything."

You sigh, feeling a bit like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, relieved that everything seems to be back to normal. You don't know what sort of reaction you were expecting from her, but this easy-going response is far from it and you wonder what you would do if roles were reversed.

"Maura?"

"Yes?"

"Don't ever doubt how much I care about you, okay? I mean, nobody's perfect… not until you learn to love all their flaws. So in actual fact, you're perfect to me and I'll always love you. No matter what."

"I know." And you do know it. You're just not sure she always knows how to show it.

She kisses your lips again and it feels like an apology. "And I never ever meant to make you feel like I don't take your feelings seriously. I'm just an idiot sometimes; I don't know how to say the right things… But I'll never stop trying, okay?"

"Okay," you nod and give her a peck on the cheek.

She grins. "You hungry? I can make something if you want."

"I just had brunch with the girls."

Dark eyebrows lift and a weird smile appears on her face as she slowly asks, "How are they?"

"They're great. Well, except that Susie lost her voice and Anna's boyfriend had to go back, and the chaos of Riley movi-… uh, they're great."

She does that thing with her eyebrows that tells you she'd prefer it if you hadn't mentioned that name but she wouldn't admit it out loud.

"I'm really just tired though."

Mischief shines in her brown eyes. She easily gathers you in her arms and you automatically wrap your arms behind her neck as she fireman carries you to bed, which was freshly changed before you left. It's one of the things you've always loved that she can do for you, making you feel safe and treasured.

"You comfortable?" she asks after laying you down.

"Yes, thank you. Are you off from work today?"

"Eh… not really," she shrugs. "I just go in later. I don't have to work as many shifts with the new guys."

"Mind if we snuggle until you have to go?"

She scoffs, toeing her sneakers off and climbing in next to you. "Mind?"

You roll over smiling as the bed dips and bedclothes shuffle about. And when she spoons you and kisses that spot behind your ear, engulfing you in that warm blanket of familiarity that only she can provide…

You wonder if Jane is a snuggler.

That's the last time you think of your one time lover until a few dramaless weeks later when you're out with Deni at the scene of the crime - Merch. You ask her to take you anywhere but there, but when you can't come up with a good enough reason why, she gives the cabbie the address and promises to take you to a new spot next time.

Stepping in past the bouncer is like experiencing dejavu. You've been here countless times with your friends and girlfriend but you're bombarded by the presence of someone you met here only once before. It's unnerving as you look around and you see her ghost in a flash of long, dark curls walking past you or a bottle of Blue Moon sliding across the bar counter. But the hand that catches it is never hers, nor is it her when any brunette turns around after feeling your stare.

"You okay?" asks Denise with an arm wrapped protectively around your waist when she notices how edgy you are and you're too quick in assuring her you're fine but she doesn't seem to notice, too set on finding you both a place far enough from the ruckus to sit and have your drinks.

When half the night is gone without any actual appearance from the tatted temptress, your relief is a welcome feeling to the point where you forget you were ever anxious. It actually turns out to be one of those perfect nights where you and Denise are both a little tipsy, a little touchy and you know exactly how this night is gonna end, but you're in the mood to dance first and even though she's terrified of looking foolish on the floor, there's no way she's letting you out of her sight. Not when you're in the red dress.

Never in the red dress.

Because it's the siren call that makes those primal urges in a person come out like a full moon to a werewolf. There's just something about this particular one that drives her crazy and you know that she'll be stuck on you like green on grass until she can peel it off of you later.

You've always loved the way she holds you. You're like two pieces of the same puzzle as your arms tighten around her neck and she rests her hands on your hips while following your lead. It actually reminds you a bit of your prom when your date barely moved his feet at all for fear of stepping on your toes, but with considerably less space between the two of you.

She says something silly into your ear and you find yourself laughing out loud into her neck, and when she smiles down at you with glossy onyx orbs and tells you how incredibly sexy you look tonight, you grin at her and peck her smirking lips.

"One more song, then we can leave," you promise and she briefly lifts you off the ground, eliciting a squeal.

"Fine."

Eventually, one more song turns into one more hour of dancing, with her disappearing off every now and then to freshen up your drinks or use the bathroom. The music is at its climax right now and there's a sheen of sweat on your skin from the exertion. You feel like you've got it out of your system now, about ready to leave but when she comes back this time, wrapping her arms around you from behind and kissing that spot behind your ear, the music tunnels out and you can feel the atmospherical shift.

Your exposed back rubs sensually against the fabric of her shirt and you're definitely ready to head out for some dancing of the horizontal variety.

"You have no idea what this dress is doing to me right now," she husks.

And your stomach drops.

That is definitely not your girlfriend's voice.

"J-Jane?" you whisper and it's easily swallowed up in the cacophony of club commotions around you.

And it's instant; that intense pull that makes you gravitate to her has you pressed into her body like you're melting into her instead. It's instant; that rush of sensation prickling on every cell of skin she's touching either with her body or breath. And you're convinced that there's mercury in your blood because your own body heat is suddenly rising, climbing, intensifying exponentially. Your lust has been rippling underneath the surface all night, but now it's personified.

And it sounds like whisky and cigar smoke.

"Wanna get outta here?" she asks, almost panting like she has to physically restrain herself from taking you right here and now.

When your body is so overwhelmed that it leaves you only two choices – fight or flight – you wrench yourself away and disappear towards the restroom, shutting the handicap cubicle door behind you.

You're literally shaking with adrenaline and you don't know what to do with your hands as you pace in circles, but you hope that with a little more time you will have calmed down enough to seek Denise out and make her take you home immediately. You don't know what it is about Jane… but you don't trust yourself around her.

What you didn't count on, though, is your most beautiful nightmare following you into the stall and assaulting your lips the moment she locks you both inside.

Your body's first instinct is to push her away and tell her to stop, but when your open mouth only invites her tongue to probe your own, you find yourself moaning instead. A guttural sound from the deepest darkest part of you reverberates around the small space even as you ball your hands into fists, pushing them against her chest.

She tastes and feels just like she did the last time and your body has already been reprogrammed to respond to her because you already know how good she can make you feel.

Hands on your waist, she smoothly glides her leg in-between your thighs and you have to part from her when your inner muscles clench so hard at the firm contact that you wonder if you just came. You push her away so hard that her back slams against the door with a violent bang.

A foot apart, both gasping for air with heaving chests and burning lungs like you just finished the Boston Marathon together, your eyes finally meet for the first time.

Lust-darkened green versus flesh-hungry black in a sexual standoff of grand proportions.

Her expression isn't shocked or angry at all. In fact, if anything, she looks like she craves you even more. You pointedly look away, running a hand through your hair as you curse at the situation.

"You have a filthy mouth, Maura."

"I only curse when I'm with-" You pause, considering her with suspicious eyes when you realize what she just said. "You know my name?"

She lifts an eyebrow. "Of course I know your name."

A ridiculous embarrassment creeps up on you at your assumption that just because you couldn't remember her name, that she didn't care enough to remember yours either.

"Don't you remember me? I didn't realize you were that wasted."

"No, I… I remember you quite clearly… Jane."

She smirks, "Yeah? How clearly exactly?"

Disjointed images flash before your mind's eye and the hitch in your breath is all the answer she needs.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you either."

And suddenly you're angry. "Don't."

She comes closer and you step back. "Don't what?"

"Don't say that. I can't- Why did you have to follow me?" You shake your head vigorously as you shoulder her aside to yank the door open.

The large restroom mirror immediately stares back at you mockingly, pointing out the messed up nature of your make-up and hair from this brief encounter, and you almost walk right out anyway just so you aren't in the same room as-

"Oh, there you are."

Your body tenses like a fist at the sound of Denise's gleeful entrance and you silently pray to any deity that will listen, that Jane stays inside that handicap stall, with the solemn promise that you'll convert as soon as you can escape this personal Hell.

She plays with a strand of your hair, grinning at you like you're missing the joke in all of this. "Wow, you worked up quite a sweat out there. Ready to go home yet?"

You give a tight smile glancing between her and the cubicle door via their reflections before you and nod. "Yes, I…" you swallow when the door swings slightly. "How about you meet me in the cab. I'll be right out."

And that, apparently, is Jane's cue to strut right out herself.

Your eyes immediately lock and you glance away just as swiftly, glad that Denise seems to not have noticed her presence just yet. Not until Jane sidles up right beside you leaning towards the mirror swiping a thumb across her lips to check if she got all your lipstick off of her.

With your never-ending one-night stand on your left and your oblivious recurring girlfriend on your right, there has never been a more awkward moment in your entire life.

"Nah, I'll wait for you," says Denise deciding she wants to wash her hands, and this moment is destined to be milked for all it's worth.

Jane doesn't look at you again and you make sure you don't look at her either as she finally heads for the exit. Her hand twists the handle.

"Don't I… know you from somewhere?" asks Denise, and Jane stops – turns around. "It's just, you look a little familiar."

You keep your eyes down as you fix your appearance, movements in slow-mo as you wait for this scene to play out. Could they possibly know each other?

"You tell me," says Jane.

"I dunno, you just have one of those faces, I guess."

"Must be…"

"Yeah…" You hear the door handle twist again and the hinges creak slightly. "Wait, no. Now I know. You're at the station, right?"

The creaking stops.

"BPD?"

"Yeah," your girlfriend concurs, sounding a little too excited. "You came in with Crowe and them, right?"

"Yeah, just started a few weeks ago."

"Well, nice to finally meet you. I'm Rockmond." That's how she always introduces herself.

You watch them shake hands and it's an out-of-body experience.

"Rizzoli."

"Yeah, Rizzoli…" Denise keeps nodding, recognition in her voice. "I've heard some stuff about you."

You catch Jane's eyes flicker towards you for a split second. "Only good things, I hope."

They laugh.

"Absolutely. You were a bit of a hero in New York. I can't believe they let you go."

"Yeah well, it wasn't really their choice. Besides, I needed the change of scenery, you know?"

"Yeah, I can totally get that. Have you been here the entire night? I didn't see you."

"I know how to be discreet," she says to you, although she is talking to her.

"Right… right. This is my girlfriend, by the way. Maura."

You both plaster smiles onto your faces sharing a subtle nod, although hers is less strained. She didn't even falter at the word girlfriend and you get the feeling that Jane is very good at navigating awkward situations, which makes you wish you could say the same for yourself.

"I'll see y'all around." She walks out without a backwards glance and you can't help the sigh that escapes you.

Denise focuses back on you and smiles. "Someone's eager to go, I see."

"I thought she'd never leave." The words are out of your mouth before you can help it.

She laughs belly-deep and you blush. "Then let's get outta here."

"Okay."

"Your place or mine?"

"Yours," you reply.

And the only reason you would ever opt to go to her place is because you need to go somewhere that hasn't yet been tainted by the mind-numbing, heart-stopping, knee-weakening presence and erotic essence of Jane Rizzoli.

I-A-I