we're about to get reallll nice and intimate with them in the next chapter.
Meanwhile though Jane and Maura argue about Jane's male tendencies.
"Wyatt is Tommy's."
Maura blinked, the file fell limply back into her lap. She stared at the woman sitting across her. "You knew?"
Jane smiled mirthlessly, reaching over calmly to slide the file shut and placing the folder onto the table away from them. "I needed to be sure," she told Maura, though the ME still seemed to doubt her explanation. Of course she would – Maura liked facts and figures to be sure. Sighing inwardly, Jane smiled crookedly at her, shifting Wyatt higher on her chest before gently pulling him away to show Maura the sleeping baby's face. "He looks like Tommy did when he was little," she explained, and Maura leaned forward intently to gaze into the handsome infant's face.
She hummed thoughtfully; what Jane said was true, and she'd noticed it herself as well – only for Maura, the thought ran more along the lines of Wyatt looking more like Jane than he did Tommy. The Rizzoli bloodline was undoubtedly dominant, and it was clear already in the barely week-old infant that he would inherit the familiar Rizzoli bone structure. The fine ridge of his brow, the Italian nose, and from what Maura knew from experience – the Rizzoli impatience.
The boy was a Rizzoli, one way or another.
"So what do we do now?" she asked quietly, peering at the brunette's face earnestly.
Jane blew out a breath, shoulders sagging visibly. Honestly if she was being honest with herself; all she wanted to do at that point was adopt Wyatt and strip Lydia of all her rights to the boy, but she knew deep down – in her moral conscience that sounded once more like Maura, Jane realized with a scowl – that she wouldn't be able to sleep easy knowing she had done something as heartless as that. They didn't know why Lydia had left Wyatt with them, and though Jane was pretty certain her theories were at least partially if not entirely true, Maura wouldn't let this one slip on just a gut instinct.
She sighed again, and cradled the baby closer to her chest while running one hand through her tangled mass of dark curls. "I guess we go see what Tommy's gonna do about it," she murmured lowly, and Maura could see that it troubled her to do so. While the youngest of the Rizzoli siblings wasn't entirely reliable on all accounts, Tommy was a good boy with a well-meaning head on his shoulders. But even so, even Maura was having doubts about what they were going to tell the bright-eyed black sheep of the family.
Shifting slightly, tugging on the hem of her pencil skirt, Maura tilted her head in consideration, her hazels eyes darting from Jane to Wyatt and back again. "Well…at least now we know for sure that Wyatt is ours," she said slowly, eyeing the woman carefully as Jane's mouth twitched. There was that strange fluttering again in her stomach as she watched Jane tuck Wyatt higher on her chest, allowing the baby to press his face into the bare skin of her chest and neck as he cooed and gurgled in his sleep. The heat was rising to her neck and cheeks, and it startled Maura.
Jane seemed none the wiser at the chief ME's sudden change in behavior. "I guess so," the detective mumbled thoughtfully, peering down at the sleeping baby's Cupid bow mouth. "Now we just gotta make sure the little man stays ours."
They had only just come to the agreement that they would leave early to settle Wyatt at Maura's home when Wyatt had woken and demanded feeding; something Jane had immediately plopped the baby into Maura's arms for. Maura merely glared at the lanky brunette as Jane dramatically began rolling her shoulders and massaging her arms, narrowing her eyes when Jane shot her a crooked smile, complete with lash fluttering. "You win the battle but not the war," she told the detective simply, tucking Wyatt's bib under his chin. "A well-fed baby results in a well-filled diaper."
She shot Jane a wicked grin. "I'll be too busy calling in my temporary and coordinating my schedules and autopsies with her." That wiped the smug look off Jane's face almost instantaneously, much to the blonde's delight. Two can play at that game, Jane Rizzoli.
Jane made a face, grumbling as she shuffled towards the door, pulling it open. "We should start potty training him," she mumbled, waving her hand impatiently through the air as she ushered Maura and the baby through the door, slinging the diaper bag over her shoulder and following behind them as they moved towards the elevator. "Shouldn't be too hard; Jo Friday picked it up in no time."
Maura rolled her eyes. "Jo Friday is a dog, Jane." She cast a sidelong look at the taller woman when Jane made a face at her. "Wyatt can barely support the weight of his own head, and you expect him to learn how to control his bowels?" She scoffed at the idea, though a part of her knew that Jane wasn't anywhere near being serious. Another part of her couldn't be too sure though – after all, Jane was the one who thought using car polish on Bass would get him to "shine bright…like a diamond."
He still smelt like lemons!
The Italian woman's shoulder rose an inch. "Can't hurt startin' 'em young."
"You put bar A into bar B, Jane."
"That's what I'm doing!"
"That's bar D."
"…oh."
Maura smiled down gently at the woman, indulgent affection gleaming in her expressive hazel eyes. "It's not rocket science, Jane; just read the manual," she laughed quietly, swaying gently as she cradled Wyatt against her chest. She was standing by the doorway of her guest bedroom, now deemed the temporary nursery of sorts, watching Jane as she sat cross-legged amidst a sea of bars, bolts and screws – all the while blatantly ignoring the white and pristine manual by her foot.
Apparently putting together a crib was "somethin' babies could do with their eyes closed. Who needs a manual to stick part A into part B?"
Evidently, Jane did.
Said tall and gorgeous Italian glared at her from the floor, gesturing with the bar she was holding rather menacingly at the woman standing in the doorway. "You want to try, Dr. Smarty-pants?" When Maura merely raised an eyebrow at her, Jane huffed smugly, returning to her work. "Didn't think so." Grunting quietly, Jane yanked the misaligned pieces apart, and began to start from scratch. Honestly, it was as if they intentionally made things harder than they needed to be – couldn't they label the damn pieces so life could be a little easier?
After another moment of watching Jane try (and fail) to assemble the crib, Maura sighed long-sufferingly as she lowered herself down beside Jane, shifting Wyatt from one arm to the other as she snatched the manual from Jane's side and began flipping through its pages. If she let Jane have her way, they wouldn't have the crib until the next weekend. Humming quietly to the baby, Maura skimmed the directions idly, glancing at the parts in front of her.
"You need to start with the base. Start with piece J and combine it with bar H and screws Y and I." She gestured with the book, pointing gracefully at the pieces Jane needed.
The woman wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Screw Y? Don't they know the alphabet? H, I, J, Y?!"
"I don't make the directions, Jane, I simply recite them," Maura told her calmly, shifting closer to the woman and tucking her legs to the side as she watched Jane reach over the pile. Her pencil skirt made things a little difficult comfort wise, but otherwise the woman was comfortably seated by Jane's side – eyeing the tanned woman's back and shoulders appreciatively as the movement brought the muscles to a shift of ripples. Dress shirt gone and tank top ever in place, Jane's golden brown shoulders were bare and in perfect viewing position for Maura. She was only spared a moment of ogling, as Wyatt gave a sudden demanding whine and began flailing in her arms.
Maura crooned at the baby soothingly, pulling the boy close and rocking him gently in her arms as Jane glanced at them curiously. "He's probably due for another feeding," she told the brunette, and excused herself to the kitchen to prepare Wyatt's next bottle. It was a while before she returned to the nursery, and Maura paused in surprise in the doorway once more, staring at the perfectly put together crib in the corner of the room. "Oh Jane…."
Jane grinned at her crookedly, pride radiating off her as she stood arms akimbo beside it. "And I didn't even need the manual," she announced smugly, and Maura saw the booklet abandoned somewhere at the far corner of the room. No doubt that Jane had flung the thing aside in disgust after she had left the room. The detective gestured to the new mattress and freshly laundered sheets inside the crib, the one covered in little baby blue cars (that she suspected Ma had been the one to pick) and then at the sleeping baby in Maura's arms.
"C'mere – put the little man in there." She perked up then, wordlessly disappearing down the hall to their bedroom as Maura gently lowered the baby into the crib. Jane reappeared a brief moment later, armed with Wyatt's blanket and pillow, and leaned over the crib railings to place the things where they should be. "Alright, little man," she uttered lowly, easing the pillow underneath Wyatt's head. "Let's see what you think about your new bed."
Stepping back with a triumphant huff, Jane planted her hands back onto her hips as she stepped in beside Maura, watching with pride as Wyatt slept on peacefully in his new crib. She glanced down at the blonde beside her with a smug smirk, mouth curving crookedly at Maura as she leaned down to rest her head on Jane's bony shoulder. "Told you I didn't need no manual," she mumbled, grinning openly when Maura rolled her eyes at her.
The blonde swallowed a sigh, but straightened with a huff. "You certainly would've finished a lot sooner if you'd have read it," she murmured wryly, spinning on her heel to leave the boy in peace. "That's certainly very male of you, Jane – men don't like reading manuals, or asking for directions -."
"Hey, I'm not male!" Jane exclaimed defensively, trailing after the blonde after pulling the nursery door shut – not all the way though. They still hadn't gotten batteries for the baby monitor. She glared at Maura's retreating back, following her into the kitchen as she began to make them lunch. "I just don't see why I gotta have some GPS lady tell me where to go if I already know where I'm going!" She leaned onto the island counter, dropping her chin into her palm as she watched Maura pull out the necessities she needed for salad and perhaps a light meaty dish. Jane was nothing if not a hardcore meat lover. The only way she could get Jane to eat her salad and not whine about it was if it led to meat.
Maura rolled her eyes down at the rocket she was sprinkling into two bowls. "You're certainly not helping your case," she murmured, though it was low enough to be out of earshot from the brunette. Huffing indulgently, she turned to Jane, smiling calmly at the detective as she slid the bowls onto the counter. "Really, Jane – it's not emasculating to need directions." She pulled the fridge door open, bending down at the hip to rummage through her coolers for the spinach and pine nuts. "Sometimes you just need to accept that you can't do everything and learn."
Reluctantly Jane dragged her eyes away from the spectacular sight before her, huffing petulantly amidst the growing heat in her cheeks as Maura turned back around, raising an eyebrow at her as she brandished the necessary greens for their salads. "I can too do everything," she countered snidely, wrinkling her nose at Maura when the ME rolled her eyes openly; snatching a leaflet of spinach out of Maura's bowl and stuffing the thing into her mouth.
"'m mean -." She crunched down into the green thoughtfully, making a face at the taste of it as she forced it down her throat. She smothered a gag, flinching as Maura slapped her across the arm with an exasperated sigh, waving the woman's attacks away as she moved around the counter and searched for something with protein to put into her mouth. "I can fix things, Maura, you know I can. I fixed that busted pipe in your bathroom last month, didn't I? All by myself too!"
She pulled open the fridge in emphasis, removing the leftover of their chicken from last night's dinner that Maura had shredded and kept aside for this purpose. Picking a piece or three between her fingers, Jane put them to her mouth, groaning under her breath at the flavor. "An' let's not f'get the time I put up your TV for you again after those goons came around and snatched it off your wall." The garbled speech elicited a mildly irritable look from the blonde, who folded her arms and glared at Jane until the woman surrendered the container of chicken to her.
"What? I'm hungry!" It was always her excuse – but then again, Jane was always hungry. Somehow she managed to restrain herself until Maura had finished dressing the salads and garnished them with the chicken before picking up her fork, murmuring her thanks to the ME before digging in with fervor.
Maura sighed, shaking her head slowly at the woman. "It amazes me to this day how your metabolism functions." Honestly she was envious of Jane's high metabolism; it allowed the tall brunette so much indulgence in all things unhealthy, though Maura couldn't find the strength to begrudge her for it – it was in her blood, after all. She was built like a predator, made of nothing but sinuous muscle and tanned skin; long and limber and delicious -.
The blonde blinked, hard. What are you doing, Maura Dorothea Isles? You do not fantasize about your best friend's body – you do not observe your best friend's body like you do a piece of artwork!
But Jane was a piece of art though – she was the most fascinating kind of art Maura reveled in. Such a complex, layered presentation of a human being that –
"Hey Maur, you listenin' to me at all?"
Heat rushed to her cheeks as Maura pulled away from her reverie, a wan, flustered smile pulling at her mouth when she saw the amused but gentle smile on Jane's face; the warmth in her dark eyes as she peered curiously up at the blonde's face. She tucked her hair behind an ear nervously, staring down at her salad instead of Jane's probing and perceptive eyes. "Sorry," she murmured, spearing a piece of chicken. "I – I must've been daydreaming about – about what color to paint the nursery." It was the first thought that occurred to her, and one that she needed to consider soon anyway.
Jane's brow pulled together in confusion. "What? Why can't it stay white?" she exclaimed. "It's not like Wy's gonna know the difference!"
Maura shook her head then, waving the thought aside. "We'll discuss it later. Now – what were you talking about, Jane?" she asked the woman instead, pulling the stool out and sliding onto it gracefully. She leaned onto the counter with her elbows, watching Jane as she began to repeat herself about their previous agreement – her temporary residence in the Isles brownstone.
"I mean -." Jane shrugged, waving her fork about. "I figured if I was gonna stay for a month, give or take, I might as well sublease it or somethin' – or at least figure if I can't get Ma to consider livin' there for a little bit. At least until we figure our living arrangements permanently."
The blonde tilted her head thoughtfully, swallowing her bite. "I thought the reason we wanted to test this arrangement was to establish a proper routine with Wyatt and your mother as well." She frowned, mind whirring hurriedly as she considered the factors. "I wouldn't think that she'd want to be away from Wyatt, now that we've confirmed that he's her grandson," she stated plainly. Truly it would seem like an unnecessary battle to convince Angela to be anywhere apart from Wyatt – she didn't enjoy the idea of basically kicking Angela out of her guest house, even if it was only for a month.
Jane grunted as she acknowledged this somewhat begrudgingly; Maura had a point. She huffed. "So what now, Maur? I mean – I don't wanna give up my apartment. It's my place, y'know? My – my space." She'd agreed to it almost on a whim – Maura was on the borderline of tears, for crying out loud! She couldn't stand to see Maura cry! But the problem was still the same though – it was only a month, but Jane didn't like the idea of keeping it empty for so long.
Maura hummed thoughtfully. "Well…." She pushed her salad around in its bowl, chewing on the corner of her lip uncertainly. "I suppose for now, we'll just have to ask Frankie or Frost to drop by once and a while to make sure everything's alright at your place. We could stop by once and a while too; you'd need to pick up mail and whatnot."
And that was all there was to it – for the moment. They didn't have the brain capacity to think of anything else other than eating and taking a nap at that point; whenever the baby slept, they slept too, as it went. Cavanaugh had given them the week off anyway.
"C'mon. Let's see if there's anything good on TV."
Vote though - a quick fall into each other or a painfully long drawn out UST filled thing?
