A/N: OMG I am so sorry for how long this update took, but here's a little running list of things that have happened to me since last chapter: I moved to a new apartment, I got accepted into a Master's Degree Prep Program, I have been studying 5 hours a day for the GRE, and I had to check in with a cardiologist several times over the past few weeks to make sure I don't have a bum ticker. Good news is, after that little health scare, I seem to be in excellent health! This means I should be updating more regularly in between my study sessions. I hope you enjoy, and happy reading and reviewing!
"Call her up and then we'll get to it, then," Tamsin said. She nodded to the phone by Jane's bed. The three of them, Bo still close, but no longer dangerously so, looked to the object in question.
Jane seemed to mull it over before making her decision. "Nah, I can't. You're just going to have to show up," she responded. For one beat, two, three, she elaborated no more, let the others wonder at her, then she spoke again. "Maura's gonna be real suspicious if I call her close to midnight and ask her to come down here. She won't do it, especially if I tell her it's so that Bo here can try and heal me. One, she'll just think I'm high, and two, she'll tell me that either way, it's impossible to heal from a wound like this in seconds, let alone any faster than I'm healin' now."
"You sure you don't want to convince her? I think that would probably be better than me showing up and throwing her over my shoulder and into the back of my truck. I'm saying that I could go pick her up but you two seem real buddy-buddy, if you know what I mean," offered Tamsin. She rose to grab her keys off the bedside table, but Bo remained curiously laconic.
"Oh! And you and Bo aren't, huh? I don't appreciate the insinuation," Jane snapped. She sat up straighter, ignoring the pulsating fire feeling against her belly button. "Besides, it has to be Bo."
"Why?" the blonde asked, figuring Bo might be able to convince Jane to do it all without Maura while she was out. Maybe Jane just wasn't the type who fancied an audience.
"Because, she can use whatever magical orange shit that comes out of her hand to sway Maura if she can't otherwise. Something tells me she does just fine without it, but it never hurts to have a backup plan. God, what am I even saying? This better work."
After Jane finished, Bo spoke for the first time since Maura was asked for. A dusky, knowing, impish mien befell her. Her countenance betrayed just how much fun this new knowledge she'd gathered about Jane and Maura was. It filled her with a certain nostalgia for her own early days with her own brainy doctor, and it showed in the way her eyes darkened and her smile curled. "Of course it doesn't. I've even been by her house; it's not too far from here. See you in twenty?" she seemed to be talking to both detectives in the room, but only looked to Jane. She took the Bostonian's hand in hers, stroked it, the blackness of all her leather imbuing their connection with what Jane could only describe as sweet shadow. She was man enough in her own morphine-tinged mind to admit that she wanted more of it. Maybe on her lips this time. God, she really needed Maura around – like now.
"I'm counting on you to be the real deal, Bo, to do what you say. Bring me Maura and convince the both of us."
The succubus, dragging all of the charge in the room with her, charge from Tamsin's chest, charge from Jane's, simpered before she stopped in the doorway. "I'll be back, Detectives," her feminine lilt, mellifluous, chaotically velvet, sang further and further south inside the both of them.
The '69 Camaro lurched along Maura's immaculate street, sniffing out the exact house from the rest of the cookie-cutter elite homes on the block. They sure beat my place, mused Bo, her hands plastered onto the wheel, driving the horses under the hood along. Her demeanor from the hospital had not faltered: something big brewed between Jane and Maura. It almost swept away her curiosity over the possible fae doings here in Boston, in Jane's old neighborhood. Almost. She needed to check out the Talucci house, ASAP. But first, she needed Jane healthy. Angela was a pretty attentive and intuitive client, but Jane, well, Jane was a cop, and any time that Bo could have the law on her side, she did so. Paranormal investigation didn't exactly get you in with the locals, but cops? Cops always did, especially hero cops like Jane. Jane. Something about the detective, something titanic, bubbled below the surface. It manifested in her physique: muscles peaked and valleyed under the bronze of her skin, but they were meat and blood proof of her personality – her brusque, her bravado, and her rippling confidence. She must taste like sin, the succubus delighted in the thought, in the possibility. But, there was Maura to be considered in this equation. Yes, Maura and Jane. Five minutes in the same room with them today, two seconds of hearing Jane talk about the doctor, and Bo felt outmatched in the face of whatever was between them. She counted it a shame, as she turned of the car and strode up the walkway to the door, that all of that chemistry sizzled and Maura hadn't even seen Jane naked. What a sight it would be, too, with all that height and those biceps and those infernal eyes…
"Bo! I'm afraid Angela's asleep, but I can tell her you dropped by if you like," Maura, black-satin-pajamas-and-matching-robe-adorned, spoke with sleep in her voice.
Bo hadn't realized she even knocked on the door. "Thank you, Maura, but I'm not here for Angela. I'm here for you," she recovered nicely, putting away her darker thoughts and recalling her more common, less unsettling, air. Professional, sincere, and more caring than predatory.
"For me?" Maura asked. She looked down at herself, and then realized that despite the late hour, maybe she should have invited her guest in instead of questioning her here at her doorstep.
"Yes. Jane, she's awake at the hospital right now, and she wants to see you. She's going to be receiving some treatment and she specifically requested that you be there." Unlike the woman before her, Bo could be a master at dancing around the facts; this skill was only augmented if it aided her in the purpose of helping someone out. But Maura? Maura didn't seem to be taking to the half-truth very well.
"What? Jane's receiving treatment? At this hour? Is she alright?" the pathologist asked these questions in a flurry of activity around her living room, discarding her robe and gathering her purse. "Please excuse me while I get dressed – wait. How would you know this?" in her hurry, she had neglected to hear the inconsistencies in Bo's statement. The dawn of it all halted her in her tracks. "You're not family and it's long past visiting hours-"
The paranormal investigator wasted no time in entering the house like an apparition, and pulsing her aura into Maura's wrist. "Calm down. Just trust me, and let's go to the hospital. Jane wants you, ok? She wants you there," she said.
Was it the words that pacified her? Maybe Bo's darkness, the darkness tempered by the goodness of her character? How could someone be so dangerous-looking, but safe-feeling? Her touch was like security itself, enough to drag her out of her incredulity and into a semblance of trust. "Ok," she nodded simply.
"Go ahead and get dressed, and then we'll head out. I'll wait out here," Bo smiled, letting go. Immediately Maura saw her not as a goddess anymore, but rather as a regular, if not a bit strange, woman. Sexy still, alluring still, but not supernatural. The trust stayed in her belly, but she wondered what specifically about the succubus' touch made her so… irresistible. Even after climbing the stairs, sliding into the first pair of jeans she could find, and wrestling into one of Jane's old shirts, she failed to come up with and explanation.
However, she knew when she came down again and saw the investigator standing and waiting for her, that Bo was good. Ultimately, very good, and very well-intentioned. Jane needed her, so to the hospital they would both go. She just hoped her best friend was going to be alright, no matter what the circumstances.
She followed Bo out the door, locked it and checked it twice, and shimmied into the low passenger seat of the Camaro. It smelled of fast food and something that was either a devastating perfume or the Canadian's natural scent. When they pulled away from her street and headed toward the main road, she could contain herself no longer. "What is wrong with Jane?"
"Nothing is wrong with her. Well, not anything more than what was wrong with her before. Someone sure did a number on her, didn't they?" the driver asked, eyes never leaving the road.
"Yes, they did. It's a miracle that she survived. And yet, she seems to have a knack for those types of things," Maura all but scoffed, the anger at her best friend for dying yet again still brimming beneath the surface. It was young, timorous even in its appearances, but still there nonetheless.
Bo noticed it. It would be best if some of it dissipated before they saw Jane, so she goaded it out of its prim and proper cage. They sped along, and she figured that they could fit in a little conversation before they reached the hospital. "I heard that she actually died. Is that true? Is that even possible?"
"She did," Maura affirmed, whispering for fear of betraying the tears at the back of her vocal tract. "And technically, yes, it is possible. Jane of course, has managed to die several times, much to the hysteria of her friends and family. I swear sometimes that she enjoys running us all ragged," the tears were gone soon after that, replaced by an annoyance. As quickly as it turned, however, it returned into sadness, the root of all Maura's rage. "I know that isn't true, I know it. But I just can't imagine my life without her, not just in any capacity, but in every capacity. She must know that. So the fact that she does what she does sometimes gets the better of me. I'm sorry," she stated firmly, with only a polite regret.
Bo blushed. She knew that if given the chance, her friends might say the same things about her. "I get it, I really do. There's no need to be sorry. Look, Jane, she seems like a nice person. She seems like a great person, actually. A brave person. I'm sure that she would never do anything to hurt you. But I'll tell you what: we're here. So if you want, you can tell her all of this yourself. I'd just wait til she's feeling a little better," she smiled, a disarming smile, and then walked around the newly parked car to help Maura out of her seat. The doctor nodded in assent, and they fell into an easy quiet as they climbed the back set of stairs all the way to Jane's floor. Maura would have questioned it all if the look on Bo's face had been anything but the complete confidence she had only seen in Jane before. They made it down the hall undetected and then entered the room, where Jane and Tamsin awaited.
"Hey, Maura," Jane, a little worse for the wear, grinned anyway at the sight of the two of them approaching. Bo brought up the rear, and for good reason. Maura, in her haphazard outfit more Rizzoli than the hospital gown Jane wore, smelled like home, redolent with all the olfactory nuances of the Isles home: gourmet tea, vanilla, the flower of the month from that ridiculous catalogue, and most importantly, that unqualifiable Maura scent that reminded her of climbing into a cool bed after a hot August day at work. Her face carried enough emotion to fill an epic. All of it edified Jane. Concern, gratitude, relief, warmth, maybe even a little arousal. This is how you love someone. Leave it to Maura to be the textbook on something so profound. Now she was ready to try whatever Bo had in mind. She was ready to stand next to her best friend again, uninjured and tall.
"Hi, sweetheart. I take it you're ok?" Maura asked. When Jane nodded, she looked to the Norse blonde towering off to the detective's other side, her curiosity flaming anew. "And may I ask who you are?"
"You mean you haven't found time to tell her about our little… excursion, Jane?" the woman, sardonically aghast, shook her head, and then turned to answer, "I'm Tamsin. I'll let Jane tell you how we met."
"Yeah, maybe another time," Jane rolled her eyes. "Bo, can you get the door?"
As the succubus moved for the knob, Maura interjected. "Oh I don't think hospital policy allows for the closing of-"
"Relax, Doc. I took care of the nurses; we'll be fine," Bo said. She chuckled at Maura's skittishness, her last fleeting moment of minor concern for the night. What she was about to find out probably wouldn't go over well. She might have to have Lauren call her up to play the role of respected-scientist-slash-fellow-human.
"Maur, I'm gonna need you to listen closely to everything we say. And for that I suggest you pull up a chair," Jane motioned to the chair closest to her left side, up against the bed.
"How is it that you always end up calling the shots when you land yourself in the hospital? You should be resting," the pathologist said, annoyed. She complied anyway, setting her purse on the table with the phone and a vase of flowers she had brought in earlier.
"What can I say? It's the Rizzoli way," the patient said. "But enough clowning around. What has Bo told you?"
"Not much," at Maura's statement, Bo cleared her throat. So much for pegging Maura as discreet. "Just that you were going to have a procedure done and wanted me here. Which I now know is absurd. What's really going on?"
"Well… that's not entirely a lie," Tamsin said.
"Right, but it ain't the truth. I'm not receiving a procedure from medical doctors tonight. I probably won't be receiving one for a long time if this works out," Detective Rizzoli clarified. If her best friend was going to buy any of this, she needed to be as straight up as possible.
"That doesn't really answer my question. It just tells me what isn't going on."
"I know. Ok, let's just cut to the chase then, huh?"
"I'd prefer it."
As they talked only to one another, Bo and Tamsin shared a knowing look. They awaited the return of both of them to the real world.
"Alright. Bo… well, please don't freak out. Bo is going to try and heal me," as soon as the words rushed out of her mouth, Jane closed one eye in a wince, ready for the onslaught of scientific jargon as to why that was absurd. It didn't come.
"You mean, like the lomilomi massage of native Hawai'i? Or some sort of spiritual ritual? Jane, you know I value the anthropological importance of cultural and homeopathic medical practices. Why would I freak out?" Maura drew her brows together as she spoke. She knew Jane often picked and chose what she listened to out of her sometimes abstruse tidbits of information, but surely the cop would have been intuitive enough to catch on to her respect for other cultures' medicine? The west, after all, by no means had a monopoly on health.
"What? No! Not like a séance, Maura! Are you kidding me right now? No," Jane double-took at the doctor holding her hand. "Like for real healing. Like I can walk right up out of this bed and out the door when she's done with me. Right, Bo?"
"Like you can run a marathon or stay in bed all day with a handsome stranger," Bo replied, supposedly talking to Jane but looking only at Maura and grinning.
"Well, that's impossible, Jane. There is no way you can heal any faster than you are now, at least that I'm aware of, besides plenty of bed rest and antibiotics," Maura said. She gave a look of condescending confusion that angered Tamsin.
"Ok, look, I don't know about all of you, but I'd rather not spend all day in this rank-ass hospital, alright? So just do it, Succuface, so we can get on with our lives and figure out what the fuck is going on in little Italy over there. Christ," said the blonde, voice rising with each phrase. Bo laughed and held up her hands, and the two humans looked at her like she grew a second head.
"She has a point, even though that was rude. What do you say, Handsome, you ready to walk outta here?" the succubus returned to the right side of Jane, closing in again. Her full lips, no longer moving, beckoned to the Bostonian, unsure whether it was because they held her freedom or because they were so very pretty. They locked eyes with one another, and Jane felt the pleasant buzzing in her gut again when Bo stroked her shoulder. Only a squeeze from Maura roused her from the pleasant fire sparking in her trunk.
"Yeah, just give me a second," she said, turning to the doctor, "look, Maura. I know this sounds weird as all hell, believe me. I think it does, too. And it scares me a little, to tell you the truth. That's why I wanted you here. You been at every one of my procedures, stitch-ups and doctor's appointments since I shot myself, and you make me feel safe."
"I haven't missed one," Maura smiled, kissing the back of Jane's hand.
"That's right, and now shouldn't be the first time you do, just because it's a little out there. But Bo told me basically how it works, and even if nothing happens, I guarantee you it's not gonna get worse, ok? So just roll with me a little bit here."
"Ok," Maura replied simply.
"Ok?"
"Ok. I think this is all a little ridiculous, but I trust you. At least in the 'this won't hurt me' capacity," Dr. Isles looked to her driver then, a knowing, silent exchange passing between them.
"Then let's begin, shall we? Tamsin, guard the door," Bo said, delegating immediately. "Now, Maura, I'm sorry but I'm going to have ask you to let go. I want all of this going to Jane and her injuries."
She didn't release her grip, but instead looked to her friend for the ok. When Jane nodded, she loosened her fingers. Bo all but transformed, one hand ghosting over the trauma site, the other arm resting just above a crown of wild black curls, Jane's signature.
Conversely, the succubus became a sleek predator. Black eyes bored into her blues, a wild stare to match her calculated one. Hers shaded into high definition: not like a crystal blue or an ocean, dark and foreboding, or murky and indigo, but clear, the sharpest hue of the family. Jane laid there, opposing her with every passing second, Medusa viper-curls strewn about and abyssal irises challenging her own healing. Jane was a Mediterranean troublemaker. Bo was streamlined sex, however, sex on a pedestal, sex in a body like a motorcycle – roaring with intention and zipping past any defenses the patient might erect. She was curves on ice, the blue in her eyes the blue of longing, because she so clearly longed for, wanted, the woman in the bed. The woman usually typed nationalities, ethnicities so easily, but could only classify Bo as alien – she was no nation's calling card, just pleasure poured into leather. Usually people's complexities were so simple to Jane, but Bo's simplicity in that sense baffled her – how could a person only feel like, well, a feeling? The predator opened her mouth to reveal teeth and tongue as human looking as everyone else in the room, pink, soft, white, fleshy, but unlike the others, a hum reverberated against the detective's chest. It soothed her, and yet overfilled her with desire. Never had Jane felt so much like an archaeologist before; the desire to excavate the ancientest thing about Bo, the sex that came from her mouth, practically healed her itself. Her tools in finding it all would be her own human lips. They were not merely so, or lackingly so; in fact, if she could say anything, she would say that Bo was even more entranced by her humanity.
If Maura could have heard any of her friend's thoughts, she would attest that she, too, found herself enamored with her normalness. Bo moved in for the sear, the kiss, and loss singed Maura's heartstrings. Loss of what, she knew not. One beat, two beats, three beats, she waited for their lips to meet but it never came. Instead, orange light, all from Bo's mouth, flowed into Jane, and their lips never touched. The Bostonian salivated for the briefest of moments, her pupils dilated, her body sweated….
But then she sat up. And then she stood up. When she took in a breath, she smiled and hollered, taking Bo into a hug.
Maura turned white as a sheet, and fainted. It worked.