The More Things Change, Part 25 of 30
Pairing: Jane/Maura
Spoilers: Through "When the Gun Goes Bang, Bang, Bang"
Warnings: Nothing that I can think of.
Disclaimer: The only thing that's mine is the plot, such as it is.
Note: So, Jane's father. He was given a whole lot less development on the show than Angela, so I had to glean inspiration where I could for him. I finally based most of my characterization on his line to Frankie about not asking for much more than waking up in the morning. That struck me as simultaneously very practical and kind of sentimental, so that's where I went here. Hopefully it works well. This one is short, though – he's not much of a talker (especially compared to Angela.) The next one is much longer.
She'd tried to help clean up – really, she had. But between Maura's insistence that she not lift anything weighing more than an ounce and her mother's not-so-subtle prodding to talk to her father, she'd finally admitted defeat, allowed Maura to help her up, and walked slowly back to the couch.
She was used to her family; what was it about tonight that made them so overwhelming? Was it that she was exhausted, though she hated to admit it? It was the longest she'd been awake at a stretch since the shooting.
Maybe it was that exhaustion that gave her the courage to sit by her father; she was just too tired to worry about it.
They stared at Maura's TV for a few minutes; neither of them really cared about the Kings game that was currently on, what with the Bruins being officially out of the running for the Stanley Cup, but there was little else on.
It occurred to Jane to thank Maura for having ordered the sports package for her cable, and she grinned.
Finally, eyes trained firmly on the television, Jane managed to squeak, "Hey…." She cleared her voice and tried again. "Hey, Pop, you got a minute?"
"For you? Sure."
He'd tried to keep his voice light, but Jane could hear the echo of the strain of the last few weeks. She sighed. "Dad, I – I have to tell you something." She could tell she had his full attention, but she stared at the television as though her focus were the only thing keeping it on. "Before Ma tells – well, everyone, probably."
"Okay."
He reached out and flipped the TV off. Jane, undeterred, stared at her reflection in the glass. His voice gave nothing away.
"Pop, I…I've been…." She sighed. "I've been lyin' to myself, I think. Or being stupid on purpose. Same thing, I guess."
In the television's glass, their eyes met. Jane pressed her lips together, then forced herself to turn and look her father directly in the eye. "Maura and I – "
Whatever she'd expected, and she herself wasn't really sure, her father's cat that ate the canary smile wasn't it. "You finally figured it out, huh?"
She slumped into the couch, deflating as the adrenaline that had been keeping her lingering pain at bay vanished. "Good God, not you too."
He smiled. "You ran a marathon with her, kiddo." She tried to look away; he touched her chin. "It's okay."
"I – "
"It would've been before anyway, but, Janie…." He sighed. "We almost lost you. You think now I care even a little bit who you sleep with?" He squeezed her knee. "I got my priorities, and in the grand scheme of things – you're alive. You're gonna be okay. You got a good person who cares about you. What more could I want?"
She'd known all along that her mother would likely be okay with the whole situation; beyond the fact that she'd been the one to start the conversation in the first place, once Jane had allowed herself to examine the memories, she'd realized pretty quickly that her mother was often talking about having someone to take care of her, someone to make her happy.
But her father?
His understanding sent a wave of warmth and relief through her. "I kinda figured that you – "
"Jane," he said, cutting her off. "Your mother and me, we've stuck by Tommy through all the bullshit he's put this family through, haven't we?" Jane nodded reluctantly. "And you think we'd abandon you for falling in love? For something good?"
Her jaw dropped. "How did you know I…?"
"It's how you look at her. Your mother hasn't looked at me like that in years."
Jane smiled weakly. "Ma said…well, the same thing. I don't see it."
Frank shrugged. "Hang out by a mirror. Watch yourself when she comes into the room."
"Pop…."
"Jane – I know you were real little when he died, but you remember how my dad was. Meanest guy you'd ever wanna meet. I promised myself that I wouldn't be like that with my kids. I stick by them." He darted a glance at her, acknowledging the other elephant in the room. "Even when maybe I shouldn't. Maura's a nice lady. I like her. You could do a lot worse."
Jane tried to surreptitiously wipe away a tear, only to have her father beat her to the punch and do it for her. "Thanks, Daddy," she croaked.
He smiled and flipped the game back on.
She thought the matter was settled until, at the end of the period, he muted the TV. "Jane?"
"Yeah?"
"You're on your own about the grandchildren thing."
"I figured."