A/N: If this were a book, or even an e-book, you would be able to tell this was the last chapter, but since it isn't, I'll just tell you: this is the last chapter. Such is life when reading serial fanfic, huh?
Chapter 10
Jane knocked on Maura's open office door, poking her head inside. "Excuse me," she said with a grin. "I'm looking for Francesca Carmonte?"
Maura's smile was quickly replaced by a blank stare, and Jane stepped inside, quickly qualifying her cultural reference. "Al Pacino's sister in Scarface. One of the most gangster women in movies."
Maura nodded. "Bonnie Parker would have also sufficed. And would have been historically accurate."
Jane brushed off the medical examiner's cultural suggestion, as they were usually two decades too late, and put her hands on her hips. "First of all, thank you for threatening a roomful of FBI agents on my behalf; that was very sweet. Second of all, what the hell were you thinking threatening a roomful of FBI agents on my behalf?"
"I did a full cost-benefit analysis," Maura said, raising a sheet of scrap paper at her.
"Well, I clearly benefitted. FBI's closing the investigation," Jane replied.
She hadn't seen Maura's eyes brighten so quickly in over a month, and she couldn't hide a surprised smile. "What? Jane, that's great!" Maura said, pushing her chair out from under her and rounding her desk with a pleased shake of her shoulders. "I feel as if we should high-five or do some demonstrative show of pleasure."
"First of all, gangsters don't high-five," Jane directed. "Second, let's definitely file that demonstrative show of pleasure for later use at a more private location." She smiled. "For now, how about a fist bump?"
"Ooo, right," Maura said, casually, and quite expertly curled her fist into a ball, tapping it against Jane's.
"Impressive," Jane gushed. "I didn't expect you to be so informed about the finer points of socially acceptable gestures."
Maura rolled her eyes. "Jane, come on. The fist bump, or 'dap', or 'pound', has been around since the Vietnam War, when it was first popularized by soldiers as a way to give kudos or respect. It's always been popular in underground circles and became mainstream fare during the 2008 presidential campaign. Courtesy of Barack and Michelle Obama." She cocked her head. "Although oddly enough, it was John McCain who served in Vietnam."
"You're like a mind hoarder," Jane replied, mystified. As Maura turned back to her desk, giving her the requisite frown she gave whenever her trivia wasn't fully appreciated, she leaned over the desk and gave her a full, rewarding smile. "But I looove you for it," she said. "And I love you for looking out for me today."
Maura's face flushed, but only slightly. "More likely, those agents simply came to the conclusion that everyone, Agent Dean included, followed standard procedure."
"Let me see that cost-benefit analysis," Jane said, reaching for the piece of paper that Maura brandished at her earlier.
"Jane, no – " Maura started, but she wasn't fast enough, and Jane snatched it quickly, turning her back as she read it aloud. Or tried to read it allowed, at least. It wasn't the easiest to decipher, even coming from Maura.
"P-V equals J over one plus r – " she gave up, glancing back at the medical examiner. "You couldn't just do a list of pros and cons?"
Maura stood, smiling and walking over to her, reclaiming the piece of paper. "This is a much more accurate indicator of net present value."
"And what did your final net present value turn out to be?" Jane asked.
"Well, the numbers are arbitrary," Maura replied. "But it was 98.2." She crumpled the paper in her hand. "I just wanted to protect you," she said. "It was a very distinct feeling. Must have been the pheromones."
Jane smiled at her. "What, pheromones made you ride in on your white coat and rescue me?" she teased.
Maura's lips curled into a grin. "I just want you to know how important you are to me, that's all," she said, running a finger absently along the lapel of Jane's blazer.
As her finger edged over the inside pocket of the jacket, Jane was reminded of Korsak's gift. "Here," she said, reaching for it. "This is from Korsak."
Maura's eyes widened. "Oh, an Auturo Fuente Fuente Opus X. These are very rare outside of the Dominican Republic. These can run over $1000 a box."
"I don't even want to know how you know this," Jane replied. "And since when do you smoke?"
"I don't, I just happen to know the finer points of the Dominican agrarian trade routes."
"How does your brain fit inside that head of yours?" Jane asked, only half-kidding. She waved Maura and the cigar away from her. "Go store that away from me," she said. "I can't smell like beer and cigars all day."
"There are some cigars that utilize tantric herbs as an aphrodisiac component," Maura offered.
"Well, I'll make sure to tell Korsak all about those," she said, and shuddered at the thought. "Listen, I just wanted to come down and tell you thank you." She cocked her head. "And to see if you had autopsy results for me."
"Well, you're welcome, and yes, I do," Maura said with a smile, handing over a file folder. "I also wanted to ask you something."
"Shoot," Jane said, her eyes grazing the preliminary results on the first page. By now she'd gotten pretty good at deciphering the technical results, but she still relied on Maura to spell out some of her jargon. After a slight pause, she looked up, and noticed that the blonde seemed to be struggling with whatever it was she wanted to ask.
"I don't know the rules around… us yet," Maura began. "But you're my friend-person-or-other and I want you to come to brunch this Saturday to meet Emily."
"What?" Jane asked, the autopsy results suddenly no longer as prescient.
"Well, it makes sense," Maura said defensively. "How can you arbitrate whether my own response to her is accurate unless you meet her, too?"
"I have no problem judging her from a comfortable distance," Jane replied. "Besides, I can't tell you what to think about Emily, Maura, you know that. It's not my place."
"You tell me what to think all the time, whether I want you to or not."
"Right, but do you usually listen to me?"
Maura's face changed, her lips forming a straight line. "No."
"Okay, then." She softened her tone. "I'm honestly flattered, Maura, but don't you think it's best if brunch is just the two of you?"
She could tell Maura wasn't convinced, simply by the flicker that twitched across her cheek. "Jane, this is important to me. If Emily wants to see what my life looks like, then that includes you."
"Are you sure you want to let her in like this?" Jane asked, recognizing the desperation in her own tone. She didn't know Emily, but that was all the more reason not to trust her to make things more complicated for Maura, at a time when she needed things to settle down. "It's not like she's made an effort for the past thirty-seven years. Why now?"
"Because I've waited so long for this, Jane," Maura responded, a longing in her voice that began to break Jane's own resolve. "Something has always been missing, and I finally have a chance to fill the oxytocin-shaped hole that's been burning away inside me."
"I like the way you just scientifically rendered that cliché relevant again," Jane replied, knowing she was testing her limits with her teasing, but attempting to stall her answer. It didn't seem as if Maura was going to accept anything but a "yes", and Jane didn't necessarily want to be the one disappointing her. Again. So she nodded, enjoying the brief glow from Maura's eyes.
"Really?" she asked, smiling. "You'll come?"
"Yes," Jane said, now feeling a bit disappointed in herself. Maura had gone out on a limb to protect her today, and it didn't seem as if she was returning the favor. "For you. Only for you. Not for her, and it's not my job to make her feel good about all these years, okay?"
Maura nodded. "Thank you," she said.
Jane sighed. "Well, I do owe you." She smiled. "Remember, 'The only thing in this world that gives orders is balls." Again, she got a blank stare from Maura, but then a knowing nod.
"That's a quote from Scarface, isn't it?" she asked, rolling her eyes.
"You're learning," Jane replied with a grin, but waved the folder that she still held in her hand. "Now help me with this," she said, frowning. There were some things even gangsters couldn't decipher on their own.
Maura studied the room with a discerning eye, taking in the myriad trinkets, décor, and adornments that made up the feng shui of her home. She had spent the morning cleaning, which it seemed was what one always did when a mother was coming to visit, whether biological or not, and was now beginning to work on the finer points of preparing brunch.
She heard Bass scuffle across the floor by her desk, and as she smiled down at him, her eyes flitted across her desk, where she had scattered several ballistics texts. She quickly covered them up with a more palatable anatomy book and gave Bass a frown. This is the same behavior she had exhibited all morning: determining what every little thing in her home said about her, or what insight it would give Emily. It was just past eleven and she was already exhausted.
Turning back to the kitchen, she thought about pouring a mimosa from the pitcher she had prepared, but instead opted for orange juice alone. There was no need to repeat the finer points of her last meal with Emily, not when she was getting on a plane to San Diego that afternoon. Maura wanted to savor their time together.
She should play some background music. She knew the finer points of how music could relax the brain, or make the brain more creative, but the thought of choosing something was tiresome, and instead she relaxed into the silence.
Silence.
She would meditate. She took a seat in front of Bass, her usual position, crossing her legs underneath her and placing her hands at her knees. She was just beginning to quiet the running loop in her mind when the doorbell rang, startling her.
Hopping up and stepping over Bass, she felt the familiar quickening of her pulse as she glimpsed Emily through her front window, and performed one last cursory glance at her surroundings before opening the door.
"Good morning," Emily said with an apologetic smile, her suitcase standing just behind her. "I know I'm a little early, but check-out at the hotel was at eleven, so I thought I'd stop by."
"Oh, of course," Maura replied, motioning her inside with a measured smile.
"I picked this up," Emily said, holding up a pastry box. "I have no idea if it's worth it, but the concierge said it was the best fruit tart in Boston."
As they continued through their initial formalities, Maura watched as Emily gazed at her surroundings with a curious, if discreet, eye, absorbing the details that made up her life. It warmed her, seeing that curiosity, and the way Emily eagerly bent toward Bass with a grin, touching him shell with a scientific graze of her hand. "What a beautiful home," she said with a pleasant smile as she took in the living room. "Absolutely lovely."
"Thank you," Maura replied, handing her a mimosa, but choosing to stick with her plain orange juice. "I went through my share of cramped apartments before this, though."
"Oh, didn't we all," Emily sighed with a wave of her hand. "When I first moved to San Diego I lived with a set of fraternal twins and a parrot. But the parrot did help me study for the MCAT. Probably the smartest parrot in San Diego by the time I got done teaching him the finer points of medical jargon."
"Did you always want to go to medical school?" she asked, looking at her with a curiosity that she had never held for her own parents.
"Oh, yes. I wanted to be a veterinarian for a long time, but eventually the human body won me over. My parents could never understand my fascination with it. Our mother died when we were young, I'm sure Constance has told you that. Our father had his textile business. I was a bit of a lone bird when it came to medicine." She glanced up at Maura. "Like you, I guess."
Maura shifted, busying herself by checking on a quiche in the oven. "I was a bit of a loner," she offered, keeping her gaze away from Emily's penetrating green eyes.
"Patrick was content with solitude, too." She turned her gaze toward a window. "Sometimes it's good to be able to be alone. It builds character."
Maura felt more questions burning someplace unnamable inside her, but something about Emily's vacant gaze gave her pause. Pushing her own ambivalence back, she wiped her hands on a towel. She had spent so much of her life in her head, parsing things in and out, but maybe it was time she begin living in the present. She smiled. "How about I give you a tour?" she asked.
As Emily nodded, tossing her red scarf onto the couch, Maura walked over, hooking an arm through hers in a gesture that felt as natural as if she had been doing it her whole life. Present was good. It was the past that haunted her.
Jane cursed under her breath, clutching a bottle of white wine under her arm as she hurried up Maura's front walk. She had meant to be early, of course, but changing her outfit twice had, of course, made her just barely on time.
"Knock, knock," she called as she pushed open the door, walking into an empty foyer. "Maura?" she called, but the kitchen and living room were empty, a pitcher of mimosas and a tray of diced veggies the only signs that anyone was even home. She did, however, notice the suitcase stowed in one corner of the living room and a bright red scarf flung across the back of the couch, and turned her head towards a chuckle from the back hallway.
The sound of her boots gave her away, and she heard Maura call from the guest bedroom. "Jane?"
"Yep," she replied, pasting a smile onto her face as she rounded the corner. She had to work to preserve it as she caught sight of the photo album that was opened on the bed, both Maura and Emily perched on either side of it.
"Jane," Maura said, hopping off the bed and taking her hand with a proud smile. "I want you to meet Emily Lawrence. Emily, this is Jane."
Emily was already standing, a wide smile stretched across her face, a warmth in her eyes that was surprising, and it was easy to see why Maura had been so completely taken with her since their first dinner. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said. "Believe it or not, Constance has already told me quite a bit about you."
Jane did a double-take. "Excuse me?" As far as she knew, Constance merely tolerated her. When she even remembered who she was, that is.
Maura cut in, sidling back to Emily. "We were just passing some time," she said, gesturing towards the photo album. "I was showing her the photos from my time in Ethiopia."
Jane nodded slowly, forcing a saccharine smile on her face that she was sure wasn't lost on Maura. "Ah, yes, with the lovely Ian."
Maura smirked at her, her lip twitching slightly as she reached for a plate of cheese and crackers that sat on the chest in front of the bed. Jane noticed Emily grab a mimosa from the bedside table, and her protective signal went off into high alert. How chummy had they managed to get in less than two days? "Jane, would you like a mimosa?" Maura asked, brushing past her with a comforting hand on her arm.
Jane followed the two of them back into the living room. "Sure," she called, although she was more of a bloody mary kind of gal. "Sounds dainty."
Maura poured her a glass, gesturing for the two of them to take a seat, but Jane bypassed the table, following her into the kitchen. "Give me a few minutes," Maurasaid, peeking into the oven. "The quiche is almost ready."
Jane waited beside her, taking a long sip from her glass. "Things seem to be going well," she observed, studying Maura's easy expression, the relaxation in her shoulders. It was a far cry from the rigidity that normally permeated through her whenever her parents were around.
"Yeah," she nodded with a smile. "Go entertain her for a minute, do you mind? I'm just going to plate." Jane sighed, turning, but Maura caught her arm, an appreciative smile on her face. "I'm so glad you're here. I know you're exhausted."
It was true, as their cut and dry suicide had turned into more of a homicidal nightmare, but she returned Maura's smile. "I can charm even when I'm tired," she promised, walking towards the table, taking a seat across from Emily.
"Jane, how long have you been a detective?" she asked, and Jane had to give her credit for taking an interest. She certainly had manners, but then that seemed like it ran in the Dixon blood. They gave Emily Post a run for her money.
"I've been with the force for thirteen years," she replied. "I've been a detective now for about six years."
Emily nodded, impressed. "The things you must see in your line of work," she said. "I'm sure it can be quite painful at times."
Jane didn't like the sudden attention on herself, preferring instead to delve into Emily's life. After all, she was the mystery. "I'm sure your line of work has its own share of heartbreak," she returned. "How long have you had your own practice?"
"For over fifteen years now," Emily replied, exhaling. "Time flies."
"What about kids?" Jane asked, already knowing with the answer, but wanting to rattle the indefatigable Emily Lawrence. Judging from what Maura had told her, the woman seemed too good to be true. Or maybe she had just been a detective for far too long. Either way, she continued probing. "Did you have any more children?"
The older woman's eyes narrowed, and Jane saw the lump bob in her throat as she swallowed, picking up her mimosa glass. "No," she said, taking a sip, but recovering quickly. "Work has kept me occupied over the years." Clearing her throat, she veered the conversation in another direction. "Maura tells me your mother lives next door?"
Jane nodded. "Yeah. I have to give Maura credit, she's wonderful with my mother. I think she's mostly bewildered by her, but wonderful nonetheless." She smiled, glancing over at Maura, who had her back toward them, her head bent over her quiche. "But, if you ever need a place to stay when you come visit, my mother is always willing to give it up for a night or two. Gives her a chance to stay with me and motherize my entire apartment."
Emily's blinked quickly. "I don't think that will be necessary," she said with a wave of her hand, taking a quick swallow of her drink.
Jane mimicked her, the champagne mildly burning her throat as she swallowed. "True, you could stay in the guest bedroom, I guess. The only thing Maura uses that room for is an extra closet."
Again, the green eyes avoided hers, and Jane felt something prickle along the back of her neck. "You don't plan on coming back, do you?" she asked lowly.
"Brunch is served!" Maura called from the kitchen, walking over and setting down a piping hot quiche on the table, Jane's question still hanging awkwardly over them. Maura sat next to Jane, placing her napkin in her lap with a pleased flourish.
Emily spoke first, breaking the silence. "Maura, this looks absolutely delicious," she gushed approvingly, avoiding Jane's quick glance.
In order to make herself useful, and to force the glare from her face, Jane rose, taking the serving spoon and doling out plentiful portions on each of their plates. If she happened to let Emily's land on the plate with a satisfying plop, it was only because she couldn't actually verbalize her displeasure with her. Although her appetite had disappeared along with Emily's tacit admission, Jane kept up her façade for Maura's sake, smiling and nodding at appropriate intervals, and providing the humor that she knew always set the blonde at ease. Maura seemed content with simply sharing a meal with her biological mother, as if she had already exhausted all possible questions about the past. It was that trust, the hopeful innocence, that had always characterized Maura, and Jane hated that those same qualities would only cause her pain once Emily left.
After they sat for a few moments, the quiche half depleted from the serving pan, Maura tossed her napkin beside her plate. "Oh! The tart! I hope you saved room for dessert." She rose quickly, heading once again for the kitchen, and Jane glanced at Emily over her glass.
"Jane, this whole thing is quite complicated," she whispered, keeping an eye on Maura. "After all these years I owed her something."
Jane leaned into her, the edginess in her voice apparent even through her whisper. "I think I know how complicated it is, seeing as how I've watched Maura struggle with this, first with Doyle, and now with you. She may be your flesh and blood, but you don't know her like I do. What she needs from you is clear expectations."
Emily's raised a calculating eyebrow. "Constance was right," she said. "You're as protective as a Doberman."
Jane frowned, leaning into her. "Well, I love Maura."
"And you think I don't?" Emily asked. "I think about her every single day of my life."
"With all due respect, Dr. Lawrence, that's not enough," she said sharply, her own words surprising her. She saw reticence flash through Emily's eyes as she leaned back in her chair, and as Maura returned baring a plate of fresh fruit tarts, the older woman had a harder time rekindling her usual smile.
Jane was quiet during dessert, thankful that even though her comment seemed to unravel Emily, she at least made an effort at engaging Maura. Jane welcome their medical banter, and their brief argument on the finer points of a vegan diet, but it was only when Emily glanced at her watch and excused herself to call a cab that Jane felt a pang of worry. She subconsciously placed a hand on Maura's shoulder. "How you doing?" she asked, checking in.
Maura smiled brightly at her. "I like her. Don't you like her?" She qualified her question with a nod of her head. "I mean, sure, I've only known her for a few days, but it's like I've known her my whole life, Jane. Like she was always someplace inside me."
Jane swallowed, averting her gaze toward her mimosa, afraid her voice would catch in her throat. "Maura," she began, but Emily returned with a sudden, stoic look on her face.
"The cab should be here in about fifteen minutes," she said, glancing down at Maura. "Is it all right the two of us talk outside?" she asked.
"Of course," Maura replied, darting a smile at Jane.
Jane stood, locking eyes with Emily, knowing that whatever conversation the two of them were about to have, it wouldn't end the way Maura wanted it to, but she managed to reach out and shake her hand. "I'm glad I got to meet you," she offered weakly, but unable to stretch a smile across her face.
Emily took her hand with a nod. "Likewise," she said. "Maura is quite lucky to have you in her life."
Jane watched as they headed toward the door, Maura grabbing Emily's suitcase and rolling it politely along the hardwood floor. She felt a sudden knot in her throat and poured herself another mimosa, washing it down, but it simply dropped to the pit of her stomach. Turning her attention to the dishes, she realized the only thing she could do now was to be there when Maura returned.
Maura let Emily's suitcase come to a stop along the first step, squinting into the sunlight that coated her front yard in a brilliant green. "Are you sure I can't give you a ride to the airport?" she asked.
Emily smiled at her. "No, I'll be fine, sweetheart, but thank you." She motioned toward the swing at the end of the porch. "Sit with me?"
Maura followed her lead, sitting beside her, each of them pushing the ground lightly with their feet, swaying the swing in an easy rhythm. "I'm glad you came," she offered first, the hesitation that she felt during her first meeting with Emily having melted away. "I mean, I'm glad you came to Boston."
"Me too," Emily said, glancing quickly over at her before returning her gaze to a spot just in front of their feet.
"Maybe at some point I can visit you in San Diego," Maura offered. "Now that you've seen a little of my life, I can see some of yours." The silence was what made her look over, but it was the empathetic, sad smile that rendered a knot in her chest.
"Maura, I am so thankful that I had the chance to meet you," Emily replied carefully, weighing her words like a doctor giving a poor diagnosis. "And I am so glad to see that Constance and Phillip have raised such a smart, beautiful woman." She turned to Maura, her eyes glazing with a wistful sadness. "But I think it's best if we keep things… as they are."
Maura's felt a burn just above her sternum. "I don't understand," she began, but the words were siphoned off by the tightening of her throat.
Emily's eyes were pained, the lines on her mouth deepening with her frown. "It's not my place to disrupt your life," she said. "It's not my place to uproot the structure that your parents worked so hard to preserve all these years." She reached out for Maura's hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's not my place," she repeated, her eyes wet. "You have to understand that."
Maura had never been punched in the stomach, but she knew the physiological response that occurred when a fist pummeled into the intestine, and she imagined it felt like what she was feeling now. She wrenched her hand from Emily's grasp, wiping at her eyes with a quick violence as she rose from the swing, her vulnerability now a liability more than an asset. "Isn't there some biological imperative – " she cut herself off, her words ridiculous, even to her. "You wanted me in your life at some point," she said. "You both did. You asked my mother to send you updates, letters, pictures…" she trailed off, her breath leaving her.
Emily's eyes narrowed with a beleaguered confusion, and she rose, the swing creaking at its sudden emptiness, and reached for Maura, wrapping her arms around her. The grasp was desperate, and strong, but she let go too quickly. "I'll still be here, Maura. I'll still think of you every single day, just like I've done for the past thirty-seven years. But I'm not the mother that raised you." Her voice cracked. "And it's important that both of us remember that. I owe Phillip and Constance that much."
The numbness that washed over her was quite comforting, as if slipping back into old clothes, and Maura nodded, allowing rationality to govern her response. "Of course," she said. "I understand."
Emily's eyes darkened at the sudden shift, as if she recognized the wall that had just gone up. "Remember, you have a way to contact me. I'll still be here. Just not the way you want me to be." She shook her head. "I don't regret spending this time with you," she said. "I hope you don't regret it, either."
"No," Maura said, with a shake of her head, slipping into her role of hostess rather than daughter, but her face was pained, the pressure behind her eyes increasing. "I'm glad you came."
She heard the cab pull up to the curb, but didn't turn her head, preferring instead to stare at the wooden slats of the porch, tallying the nails in each board. Their exchange was now formal, and with no formalities left to address, there was nothing left to do but say their goodbyes. Emily reached in for a hug, but Maura demurred, instead giving her the kiss on the cheek that she had perfected with her own parents over the years.
"This is for the best, Maura," she said, and with that she turned, her suitcase rolling behind her. Maura watched climb her into the cab, and give a small, sad wave as she pulled away. Emily had filled some sort of hole that she had been looking to fill for years, and her fleeting appearance had only wedged that hole bigger, so that now she felt it even more: huge, cavernous, and empty.
Maura didn't hear the door open, but she felt Jane behind her, and just to prove that she could force her voice to work, she spoke. "She doesn't think it's a good idea to keep in touch." Was that her voice, that mottled, closed sound?
"Maura," Jane exhaled behind her, pressing her hands on her shoulders.
"How could I have been so naïve?" she asked. "To think that I could make her want me in her life after thirty-seven years?" She forced a bitter laugh from her throat. "Oxytocin doesn't work that long."
Jane pressed a hand against the small of her back, rubbing in small circles. It was that lingering touch of comfort, one that had promised never to go anywhere, that finally let her release her disappointment. Turning towards the taller woman, she pressed a fist against her mouth, not wanting to cry, not wanting to give Emily, a stranger, that much power over her, but as Jane wrapped her arms around her, she let go.
Tears, she knew, were connected to the lachrymal gland, but the sobs that ratcheted up through her stomach were something else entirely, as if they were ripping apart her diaphragm. She couldn't quite decipher Jane's comforting whispers, but she didn't need to; they traveled straight through her spine, settling into the hole in the pit of her stomach.
Pressing her hands against Jane's chest, she pushed a little distance between them, enough to look up at her. "This is all for the best," she said, repeating Emily's words. Again, her eyes spilled over. "I know that, I really do, I just don't know why my lachrymal glands don't."
"Maybe just let your lachrymal glands work this out on their own, okay?" Jane asked. "Unless they eventually just stop producing tears."
"They don't," Maura said, shaking her head.
"Well, then, we've got all day," Jane reiterated. "I'm not going anywhere." As if to accent her point, Jane clasped her hands around Maura's back, locking her into a comfortable embrace, neither of them moving nor speaking for a few moments.
"Do you want to go for a walk?" Maura asked, wiping her forefingers across her eyes and glancing up at the sky. It was beautiful, and she felt a need to stay outdoors, if only to lighten the weight that she felt pressing on her chest.
Jane followed her gaze. "Sure. With my track record, though, I'm still bringing an umbrella."
Maura smiled. "I don't think you need one today."
Jane shrugged. "I don't know. Depending on your lachrymal activity, I just might."
Maura laughed, grateful that somehow, Jane always knew inherently what she needed. "I think you might be responsible for drying out my lachrymal glands," she replied, but Jane cringed, pursing her lips.
"Okay, I know what it means," she replied. "But it sounds bad. I don't want to be responsible for drying anything out…"
Maura pushed her towards the front door, her sadness still daunting, but a little less relevant. "Fine, then get your umbrella. I hope you got a new one."
"I did. I took Frost's."
Maura giggled, crossing her arms over her chest as Jane disappeared back into the house. She turned, catching Frankie's car pull up to the curb, an unexpected, if not infrequent sight. He hopped out carrying three bags of soil in his arms and struggled to wave at her as she walked along the front path, meeting him. "You look like you've got some work to do," she said as he set the bags along a patch of grass near the guest house, where a row of unpotted petunias and tulips already sat.
The door to the guest house clanged open, and Angela walked out, wearing an apron and a set of large, cloth gardening gloves, her face covered by a wide straw hat. She tipped her head up, waving at Maura. "Perfect day for gardening," she said perkily, glancing down at the bags of soil. "Oh, Frankie, I said to get the organic plus minerals kind!"
Frankie put up his hands, defensively. "Whoa, Ma, first of all, you didn't say that. Second, this is all they had."
"Unless you shop for your soil at the bodega at the corner, then I'm sure that this isn't all they had," Angela replied.
"You know, it's fine," Maura said, jumping in. "You can always up the mineral content of the soil by mixing it with compost. I've been meaning to start a compost pile in the back, anyway, so I'm happy to help."
"What a doll," Angela said, pinching her cheek with a roughly gloved hand. She jerked her head towards Frankie. "She's a doll," she emphasized.
"Whoa, whoa, what's going on out here?" Jane asked, returning, this time with a large umbrella.
"We're planting flowers today," Frankie said, and even Maura detected the sarcasm in his voice.
"Jane, why are you carrying that umbrella?" Angela asked. "It's beautiful outside."
"You know, we could help you plant, if you'd like," Maura offered, bending down to finger the leaf of a tulip.
"No," Angela and Frankie said in unison, almost bowling her over, and she gave a bruised look at Jane.
"No offense, but Jane's not coming anywhere near these flowers," Angela said, stepping protectively in front of them.
Jane rolled her eyes, and Maura looked back at her with amusement, waiting for an explanation. Instead, Frankie spoke up. "Jane doesn't have a very green thumb," he explained with a grin. "She kills just about every living plant she touches."
"That's not true," Jane said defensively.
Maura nodded. "That's not surprising." She ignored Jane's stare, continuing. "There is research that indicates that plants feed off of more than just their environment. It's the way in which they're cared for that affects their growth as well." She glanced back at Jane. "You're very aggressive."
"Yeah, well, that's why I'm at the top of the food chain."
"Speaking of, I'm making a roast for dinner tonight," Angela said. "You both are more than welcome to come join Frankie and me."
"Wow, Frankie, that dating life of yours must be going really well," Jane cooed, leaning over to him and giving him a playful shove. "Dinner with Ma on a Saturday night." She snickered.
"Actually, I would love to do dinner," Maura cut in, glancing up at Jane.
"You would?"
Maura nodded, ignoring Jane's stare. "I would," she said with a smile.
"Okay then, family dinner it is," Jane agreed, putting a hand around Maura's waist. "And since I don't need to spend my entire day arguing with you two, we're going to take a walk."
Maura didn't bother pulling away from Jane's embrace, but instead leaned into it. As they turned toward the street, Angela's matronly tone, which was clearly meant for Frankie, but carried clear across the yard, settled into the hole inside her, filling it with a familial, if not biological love.
Maura watched, seated from the couch in her parents' suite, as her mother experimented with the crutches that she brought over earlier that afternoon. She had steered clear of both her parents for the past two days, and in order to assuage her guilt around Emily, but after Jane's encouragement, had decided to finally make a visit.
"These are certainly unladylike," Constance said, grimacing as she huffed towards the tiny kitchen of the penthouse.
Maura stifled a grin. "Well, you shouldn't use them except to move around here," she said. "You can still keep your ladylike aura in public."
"Thank god for that," Constance replied with a smile, settling back into the comfort of the couch with an exerted sigh.
"Would you like some tea?" Maura asked, attempting to make herself useful.
"No, but how about some of that lovely green juice?" Constance asked.
Maura made her way to the refrigerator, pouring a small glass, when her mother spoke again. "You haven't mentioned Emily today," she said, studying Maura with a blue gaze as she accepted the juice. "Do you mind if I ask how the two of you left things?"
It was a fair question, and one that Maura had successfully avoided thinking about, thanks to an increasingly difficult case at work and Jane's plentiful distractions. "She would prefer to keep her distance," she replied, easing onto the couch next to her mother. It had become easier to deal with over the past couple of days, but it still didn't extinguish her sadness. "That's understandable."
Constance nodded. "She's always preferred things that way," she said.
Maura turned to her. "What do you mean?"
"She wasn't like Patrick. He always wanted a letter, or a photo. There were times when I would look up, at your graduation from Winsor, for example, and he would be standing off to the side." She shook her head. "But Emily wasn't like that."
"I thought she asked you for letters," Maura said, suddenly confused. "I thought she wanted to know things about us."
Constance placed her hand on Maura's knee. "I wrote her letters, yes. Many of them. But she never asked for any. It may not have been my place to send them to her in the first place, but how could I not share how brilliant her daughter had become? I knew she'd take pride in it, on some level, even if she didn't reach out for it."
Maura shook her head slightly. If that were the case, then Emily had never wanted prolonged contact with her. The trip to Boston, their meeting, was simply a way to assuage her curiosity. Or her guilt.
"You can be angry," Constance said, squeezing her knee. "But not with her." She reached over and cupped Maura's chin towards her. "We all made mistakes, but we did the best we could. If I could go back, darling, I would live each and every day being unafraid. I was so afraid of making a mistake with you, or breaking down, or not giving you everything, that I'm not sure I gave you anything that you actually needed. Or wanted."
"Mom," Maura mumbled, unsure of whether her voice could raise any higher than a whisper.
"I don't want regret to be the only thing I feel with you," Constance continued. "I think the absolute world of you, darling, and frankly, I don't know how you managed to turn out quite so brilliantly. You are the biggest, most pleasant surprise I've ever gotten."
Maura smiled, managing to swallow the lump in her throat, preferring instead to lean her head on her mother's shoulder, enjoying the understated, yet tender squeeze of her mother's hand on her knee. "Don't underestimate the scientific zeal of nurture," she said, letting the quietness settle around them. "I love you," she added softly.
"Je t'aime," Constance echoed, pressing a kiss against the crown of her head. They stayed still for a moment, only the trees outside the windows moving, It wasn't until the door of the suite opened did Maura finally lift her head, raising her eyebrows toward her father, who carried a bulging bag of produce and a newspaper in his arms.
"Bonjour, Mesdames," he called as he set the bag on the kitchen counter.
Constance glanced over at him, then back at Maura. "Your father thinks he is going to cook a French meal in that god awful kitchen," she said with a slight smirk, the laugh lines around her eyes intensifying with the thought.
"That's because I am," Phillip emphasized. He glanced over at the two of them. "Maura, you're welcome to stay. I picked up the restored version of Marcel Carne's Les Enfants du Paradis on DVD."
Constance turned toward him. "Phillip, we've already seen that."
"Twenty years ago, yes, but this is the newly restored version. It will be like watching it with new eyes."
"More like tired eyes," she returned. "Your father begins a film very ambitiously," she said to Maura. "But he's asleep by the denouement."
"Nevertheless, Maura, you're more than welcome to join us," Phillip reiterated.
"Thank you," she replied, with a genuine smile. "But I have a date tonight."
"Ah, with your detective?" Phillip asked, his voice muffled as he reached into the grocery bag.
"She's not my detective," Maura chastised, but nonetheless appreciated the fact that her parents had acclimated so easily to the thought of it. "Her name is Jane, and you both know that."
Constance smiled, glancing over at her husband. "We must do dinner with her before we leave, Phillip. What was that place where we ate before?" she asked, glancing at Maura. "Phillip, you would adore it, it's so quaintly Irish."
"I love the Irish," he replied. "Such spirited people."
"Okay," Maura sighed, clasping her mother's knee and rising from the couch. She would never be able to take the bourgeoisie out of her parents. "I'm making dinner for Jane tonight, so unfortunately, I'll have to leave you both to your French cuisine." She leaned over and gave her mother a peck on the cheek. "But why don't we plan on dinner this weekend?"
"That sounds lovely," Constance said, attempting to get to her feet.
"Mom – "
"Constance – "
At the double chastisement, Constance sat down again, this time resting her back against one end of the couch so that she could see the two of them as they exchanged goodbyes.
"Ah," Maura said, fishing through her purse and walking toward her father. "This is for you."
He took the cigar from her fingers with a wide smile, putting it immediately under his nose and giving it a wide, appreciative sniff. "Where in the world did you find this?" he asked. "It's one of the most expensive Dominican products on the market."
"It was a gift," she said with a shrug and a smile, reaching up to give him a peck on the cheek. "Au revoir," she called over her shoulder as she slid out the door, her parent's goodbyes following her out the door. She caught one last look at them as she closed the door, smiling softly at their effortless formality, which she had only just begun to see as slightly endearing.
Jane rushed up Maura's front walk, her boots carrying her as fast as she could go. This case had already kept her working long hours, but now it was beginning to cut into her dates, and she didn't appreciate it in the least. Instead of enjoying a homecooked meal with Maura that night, she had instead enjoyed a microwaved burrito with Korsak and Frost. "Maura, I'm so sorry I'm late," she called bounding inside. She smiled as Maura walked over to her, still dressed in the clothes she wore to work, which could have doubled on a runway.
"Wow," she said, appreciatively. "You still look amazing."
"Did you get the warrant?" Maura asked, automatically taking a beer out of the refrigerator and popping it for her before handing it over. Jane took advantage of the closeness, pressing a quick kiss against her lips.
"No," she replied. "That Judge is on my shit list as of eight o'clock tonight. But I want to put all of that out of my head." She smiled down at Maura, setting her beer on the counter and wrapping her hands around her waist. "I'm so sorry I had to cancel our dinner."
"No worries," Maura said, tapping one of the arms that circled her waist. "My only other option tonight was a French film and two ex-patriots." She laughed, dragging Jane to the other end of the counter. "Come here, I got you something."
"Ooo, a present?" Jane asked, slipping out of her blazer and tossing it over a bar stool. "Show me."
"Close your eyes," Maura requested.
"What if I don't?"
"Then you won't get your surprise."
"Okay," Jane said easily, closing her eyes as she took a seat. "Should I count to three or something?"
"No need to," Maura said, and Jane heard the refrigerator open and close. "Okay, open."
As Jane opened her eyes, Maura's hands flashed over a brown paper box wrapped with a blue ribbon. "Voila!" she called, and Jane focused on the scrawled, printed cursive on the top of the box. "Bertolli's?" she asked incredulously, a smile edging her lips. "Where in the world did you get this?"
"They moved!" Maura said, excitement and pride bubbling in her voice as she opened the box, revealing one of the biggest, most perfect slices of tiramisu Jane had ever seen. "I found them over on Rankin, only a couple of blocks over."
Jane's mouth dropped open as she stared at Maura, who smiled brightly back at her, clearly pleased by her ingenuity. Those smiles had come intermittenly since Emily left, but there was something about this one that was more rewarding than any of them. Had she ever seen Maura look more beautiful than right now?
"What?" Maura asked, raising her eyebrows, but her smile didn't disappear. "You're looking at me like I'm a piece of tiramisu."
"Maybe that's because I want to taste you." Jane cringed, even as the words left her mouth. When had she become so corny?
Maura raised an amused, if not exactly aroused, eyebrow. "Are you flirting with me?"
"Not very well," Jane replied with an embarrassed grin. "But yes."
Maura slid around the counter, closing the gap between them and sidling between Jane's legs. "You know, the tiramisu isn't going anywhere," she said. "And it's better when it gets to room temperature." She cocked her head, momentarily losing her breathy voice. "It would take approximately seventeen minutes for it to warm down to the current temperature in this room."
Jane pressed a kiss against her lips, a gesture that had now become a habit. There was one last step in their relationship, however, that they hadn't ventured toward yet, and she felt her pulse quicken with the possibility. "I could try for some seductive remark, but instead I'll just ask you this: "You sure about this?"
Maura returned her kiss, but this time slipped her tongue inside Jane's mouth, which was more than enough of an answer. When she pulled back, she smiled. "Yes."
Jane peered closely at her. "You're sure that you're sure?"
"Jane, yes - "
Maura let out a quick yelp as Jane stood, quickly scooping her off her feet and clearing a straight path to the bedroom. By the time they got there, their laughs were stifled by their kisses, and Jane clumsily dropped Maura onto the bed, straddling her hips.
Their giggles halted, and Maura's chest heaved with something more than mirth as she stared up at Jane. Reaching up, she pulled Jane toward her, their kiss now more tentative than before, but just as needy. Since her hands were occupied with keeping her balance, Jane let her mouth work for her, sliding her lips across Maura's jaw bone, the pulse at her neck, then delving toward her ear, eliciting a soft, affirming moan from the woman beneath her.
As Maura's capable hands found their way underneath Jane's shirt, grazing upwards to cup her breasts, shelet out a reciprocable moan of her own, allowing the medical examiner to explore for a few moments as she arched into the touch. Suddenly, Maura pressed against her shoulders, moving her aside as she rose from the bed, and for a moment Jane was afraid that they'd crossed some sort of invisible, arbitrary line. But Maura merely turned her head demurely over her shoulder, motioning to the back of her dress. "Unzip me," she requested.
Jane stood quickly, her shirt ruffled against her stomach, and slowly slid the zipper down Maura's back, revealing a thin ribbon of pale, smooth skin that lead to the pale blue strip of her panties below her waist. Maura slipped the dress from her shoulders, allowing Jane to take in the expanse of her back, the sharp, straight shoulders. As the dress pooled at her feet, Jane's fingers traced the straps of her bra, unlatching it and watching it follow the same path as the dress.
As she bent her lips toward Maura's shoulder blade, the blonde shivered, whether from the initial kiss of the cool air, or the feel of her tongue, Jane wasn't sure. But her skin was warm, and Jane couldn't help but smile against her as she let her hands reach up and knead Maura's plentiful breasts.
A small whimper of ascent, and the slight widening of her legs let only strengthened Jane's touch, and she let her thumbs graze playfully across the shorter woman's nipples. "Turn around," she said, surprised by the command in her tone. But Maura eagerly obeyed, giving her full access, allowing her to visually appreciate what she had stimulated so well with her touch.
She let taste govern her next, and pressed her mouth against a hardened nipple, stiffening it with her tongue. Giving same attention to the opposite one, she eventually let her mouth slide lower, getting on her knees and hooking her thumbs in the sides of Maura's panties. She pulled them down as she went, inhaling her scent and letting her mouth press teasingly against her folds. Jane's methods didn't go unrewarded, and she saw the quiver in Maura's thighs, complimented by a hand suddenly entwining itself in her hair. The hand unexpectedly drew her upward, however, and Maura met her with an impatient smile.
"You have some undressing to do," she said, her hands already moving to the hem of Jane's t-shirt and tugging it upwards over her head. Her eyes focused on the flesh above the detective's bra and she let hands follow, kneading them through the thin fabric before reaching her arms around and unlatching the clasp. Jane didn't command her nudity with quite as much confidence as Maura, but the shorter woman's exploring hands didn't allow her much time to think about it.
"You're perfect," Maura breathed, her eyes roaming the flesh that she had just expertly handled.
"You're not so bad yourself," Jane replied with a practiced nonchalance, but Maura shook her head, staring now with a concentrated eye.
"No, really, you have perfect sternum alignment," she continued, letting her finger run down the center of Jane's chest.
"Everyone tells me that," Jane said with a wave of her hand. "You're going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to get me into bed."
Maura smiled demurely at her. "You don't want me to tell you how perfect you are?" she asked, letting her hand trail lower, fingering the curls at Jane's center.
Jane inhaled sharply, her knees dropping her to the bed, and she used the opportunity to pull Maura on top of her. "I'd rather you show me," she said with a grin.
"I think I can do that," Maura replied, bowing her head and taking a nipple in her mouth, flicking it with her tongue before allowing her teeth to graze gently over it. Being careful not to neglect the opposite breast, she rolled the nipple between her fingers, pulling it slightly so that the brunette arched into her touch. Jane had never thought that Maura's hands would be her best asset, but the way she was making her writhe against the sheets, she wasn't so sure that they weren't.
Not to be outdone, she let her own hands cup the flesh at Maura's backside, kneading it more harshly each time the blonde's teeth teasingly nipped her. As Maura settled onto her stomach, Jane felt exactly how much their play was turning the smaller woman on, and she let her fingers explore on their own, delving between her legs.
Maura moaned against her, returning her lips to Jane's as her probing fingers continued their slow discovery, trailing the doctor's wetness down the insides of her thighs. It would be so easy to rush, to let her fingers slide inside the blonde's wet warmth, but Jane wanted to savor the moment. Come to think of it, she wanted to savor Maura. She leaned upwards so that the smaller woman was now straddling her lap, writhing against Jane's teasing fingers.
With Maura's heaving breasts now at eye level, Jane found herself rendered completely motionless for a small splice of a second before finally taking advantage of her position. With one hand against Maura's back, she bent forward, capturing a hardened nipple in her mouth as her fingers continued their slow, probing torture at her center.
She let her tongue work one, then the other, feeling the blonde's muscles tense with each teasing, tugging touch. When she finally moved her hand upward, entwining it in the flowing blonde hair and pulling Maura forward for a deep kiss, she felt her physically melt into her, their breasts heaving into one another.
"Inside," Maura whispered, trailing her mouth along Jane's jaw line and widening her thighs. She followed the command, two fingers sliding easily inside, and Maura let out a quick moan as her teeth grazed Jane's shoulder. She pumped slowly at first, relishing the slick warmth, and at first the doctor matched her slow pace, but soon she was groaning for more, grinding her hips against Jane's hand.
As Maura dipped her head back, hair falling over her shoulders, Jane took advantage of the pose, lowering her head once again to the full nipples, teasing them with her tongue. Her own breasts were experiencing a consistent, slow torture from Maura's hands, which cupped and kneaded at the pace of the fingers inside her. Circling her thumb over the tiny bundle of nerves at Maura's center, however, became Jane's priority, and she continued to thrust, attempting to drink in as much of the woman in front of her as she could.
With a sudden show of strength, Maura pressed her back against the bed, widening her thighs around Jane's waist as she leaned over her, the new angle making her hiss in pleasure. As she buried her head into Jane's shoulder, the brunette curled her fingers inside her, pumping harder and keeping the same, consistent pressure against her center. Maura's scent, pomengranate mixed with something primal, was all around her, and she barely registered blonde's low whimper in her ear: "I'm coming."
The words only made her thumb press harder, her fingers work faster, and it was mere seconds before she felt Maura arch into her, hips bucking against her hand. "Fuck," the blonde whispered, and the word made Jane's eyes pop open, as Maura Isles wasn't one to let her vocabulary get the best of her. Her lips latched onto Jane's mouth, voicing her pleasure with a suckling moan as her hips shuddered before finally coming to a slow writhe. Their kiss became slower, appreciative, and Jane kept her fingers inside her for a moment, reluctant to move them. She wondered if Maura was too sensitive for her to coax another orgasm from her.
Before she could, however, Maura slid off of her fingers, hissing at the sudden emptiness, but she clearly had other plans in mind as she curled a finger, motioning for Jane to slide up the bed. "You're quite a talent," she said as she pressed an approving kiss to Jane's lips. She quickly parted Jane's legs, sliding into her rightful place between them, placing a series of wet kisses along her torso.
"I've had a lot of practice," Jane said, but winced as her words registered in her brain, and despite the feeling of Maura's lips trailing across her stomach, she pressed her palm embarrassingly against her temple. "That came out wrong," she explained, but she felt Maura giggling against her, and she lifted her head. "Great," she said. "You're laughing at me. You're laughing at me while we're having sex."
Maura raised her head, her eyes smiling just as much as her lips. "I'm laughing at you because you're funny," she said, raising up on all fours to meet Jane's mouth again. "I'm kissing you because you're beautiful." She let her fingers trail seductively below Jane's belly, running them along her folds. "But I'm fucking you because you're incredibly sexy."
Again, Jane's eyes widened. She hadn't expected Maura to use such layman's terms in the bedroom. Not that she was complaining. In fact, she wasn't sure she had many more brain cells left to articulate anything much more than a moan as Maura let her mouth follow the path of her fingers, her tongue gracefully probing the wetness between Jane's legs.
She groaned as the blonde bypassed her goal, nibbling her inner thighs for a few insatiable seconds before returning her attention to Jane's center, delicately unveiling the sensitive bundle, but not yet giving her the release she needed. Instead, she let her tongue coax Jane's entire need into that one catch-all of desire.
As her mouth worked Jane's core, Maura's fingers fluttered across her stomach, her breasts, taking extra care to roll her nipples between them before running down the sides of her torso, stopping along her thighs and pushing them further apart.
Jane felt her limbs quiver, and she shifted her legs, pushing herself upwards, wanting more of Maura's mouth. She wasn't one to beg in bed, but the smaller blonde was pushing her closer and closer, and she needed her mouth in one particular spot. She caught Maura's eyes blinking devilishly towards her as she continued to probe her with her tongue, and Jane couldn't help but let the next words slip helplessly from her lips. "Please, Maura."
Maura was nothing if not responsive, and she moved her mouth over Jane's engorged center bud, massaging it with her tongue before suckling it completely. Jane's hips rocked towards her, and both of their moans intermingled as Maura continued her slow pleasure. It was only when she slipped her fingers inside of her that Jane reached her hands above her head, desperately gripping the pillow. Maura was all over her: one hand still rolling a hardened nipple, the other thrusting inside of her, and her mouth suckling her most sensitive spot.
Her own chest heaving, Jane let out a guttural moan, unable to form any words of warning as she felt every nerve in her body seem to explode in that one tiny bud, her hips writhing to catch as much of the waves of pleasure as she could. Maura didn't let go, her tongue pressing until Jane's shivers had subsided, and only then did she press her lips against the inside of a thigh, nibbling lightly as they both caught their breath.
"My god, woman, come here," she said, pulling Maura up over her body and rolling her under, so that she could fully demonstrate her release with a few well-placed kisses along the blonde's neck. She let her fingers drift between Maura's legs, still fully intent on testing out her sensitivity theory. Maura was still wet, but she began by massaging her clit once more, and the unintentional thrust the blonde gave let her know that there was still some desire left there.
Capturing Maura's mouth with her own, Jane slipped two fingers inside her, wasting no time in increasing her thrusts as the blonde wrapped her legs around her, giving her more access. The second orgasm didn't take very long, Maura's pleasure being voice against her neck in short, high-pitched moans. She watched with a pleased smile as the medical examiner opened her eyes, which were clouded with lust.
"It's definitely been more than seventeen minutes," Jane said with a satisfied grin. "I would imagine that tiramisu is orgasmically good by now."
"You seem like you're in a rush to get out of bed," Maura replied, running a hand along the sensitive underside of her breast.
"You're lucky if I ever leave this bed," Jane said, pulling her towards her.
"Is that how you got all that practice?" Maura asked with another giggle, but she made up for her teasing with a gentle kiss at Jane's shoulder.
Jane had imagined what sex with Maura would be like, numerous times, but she hadn't realized how rewarding it would be to feel her so simply close to her, just the feel of their heated skin touching. "Maura," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind the smaller woman's ear. "I really, really love…" she trailed off with a smile, studying the woman on top of her before finishing her thought: "… tiramisu," she said, rolling the two of them over and swinging her feet to the floor. In a flash, she was out of the bed, grabbing Maura's silk robe from the back of the bedroom door and making a mad dash towards the kitchen, her laughs trailing behind her.
"Jane!" Maura called, running after her, plucking Jane's discarded t-shirt from the floor. "That's my favorite robe!" She scampered after her. "And don't eat all the tiramisu!"
Fin
A/N II: I hope this helped entertain you while waiting for Season 3 to begin :) ... I'm sure we'll have to rely on a lot more fanfic to get us through all the "penis talk" this season. Thanks so much for the wonderful feedback, the alerts, and the favorites. I really appreciate you all taking the time and the effort to let me know your thoughts - makes my day and makes this community incredibly fun.
Renconteur, thanks for the editing eye. *pound* *dap* *fist bump*
Now, who wants to collaborate on something?