Frankie Rizzoli liked to think of himself as a dutiful son and brother. He was a dutiful cop, too, working crappy shifts and taking new guys under his wing without being asked. This, however, driving Maura to the hospital so that she could see her father after spending the night in her home to protect her from dirty cops, was the crappiest. It took all of his sense of duty to climb into the car next to her and speed off toward Boston Medical.
Not because he didn't like Maura. He really, really liked her. But something didn't sit right with him knowing that while he had laid in the guest bedroom getting some of the best sleep of his life last night, Jane wasn't allowed in a hundred yards of the place. He looked over at Maura in her designer clothes tinged with burgundy and topped off with a black blazer and tasteful black heels, and he thought about how out of his league she was. She had a three-hundred dollar haircut and earrings that probably cost more than six months' worth of his paychecks.
But somehow, she wasn't out of his sister's league. Somehow, they matched up and it worked. Jane brought the South Boston out of Maura. Maura brought out the girl in Jane that had been accepted to BCU. They reached a resonance frequency he couldn't quite place, but hell, it worked for them. So, it sucked that they were… whatever they were doing. Really, truly sucked. He suspected that it was more than just fighting, but the only way to find that out was to ask. "So, what's up with you and Janie?"
Maura whipped her head around from where it had been staring wistfully out the window. "I'm sorry?"
"You and my sister," Frankie elaborated, "what happened?"
"We're fighting," Maura all but whined. She tapped her fingertips to the bow of her upper lip.
"Yeah, that's obvious," he said. "But what for? You two shouldn't be goin' at each other. You love each other too much."
Frankie exposed something so simple and so true about Jane and Maura, but it flayed Maura anyway. She gulped down a sob. "Yeah, we do. But that doesn't preclude people from fighting. She said some awful things, and she refused to apologize for doing something that hurt me."
"Sounds about right," Frankie commiserated as he turned the steering wheel, his right hand resting on his knee. "One time, when we were fishing with our Pop, I musta been like 12 or so. So Janie was 14. I had this huge catch on the line, right? So I'm tuggin' and tuggin', and then she bumps into me and I lose it. I was so mad. But somehow, by the end of the whole thing, she's got me apologizing for 'bein' an asshole.' So, you know she's always been like that, right?"
"Not with me," confessed Maura. She shook her head at how stupid that sounded.
Frankie didn't think so. "That's true. But you're the exception to the rule. Usually. Sometimes, though, she can't help her nature rearin' its ugly head. Even with you."
"What are you saying?" Maura asked. "That I should let it go?"
Frankie cut the engine now that they were safely in the parking garage. "Hell no. I'm saying that you should make her sweat a little bit to get what you really want. Good luck up there, Maura. Your Dad's a dangerous guy, but he cares about you. Jane cares about you, too."
Maura's mind stayed on the interesting exchange she had with Frankie in the car all the way to the hallway just outside Doyle's room. He acted and talked just like her, now that she knew what Jane talked like when she wasn't affecting any kind of role. Watching him gesticulate, laugh, try to comfort her, all made her miss Jane. The way he sometimes dropped his r's and raised up his vowels made her miss Jane in a way she didn't even know Jane could be missed until a few nights before.
Maura second-guessed every interaction they had had up until the moment she had heard it. She felt shame at the possibility that she had somehow communicated to Jane that she couldn't be herself in Maura's presence. She felt spurned by Jane's hiding behind what was an often pretty-convincing standard register, but now that she thought back on it, on all their conversations, Boston was pulsating just beneath the surface during every one. There were crumbs of it when Jane had told her whatever you want, I can get it. There were flashes of it when Jane had spat at her What, Tommy make you sign a title 18, too? when she found out that they had almost kissed. There were thunderclaps of it when Jane had whispered, huskily, I kind of love that you know that.
Jane wasn't hiding from her. Jane was encouraging her to chase. Jane was encouraging her to chase and Maura realized that she was so ready to follow until Paddy Doyle had fallen fifteen feet to his possible death as a result of Jane's bullet in him. Now, she was just running.
"Dr. Isles," IA Captain Connors hovered near Doyle's unconscious body when Maura entered the room, and he greeted her with a professional smile.
"Captain Connors," she returned the favor, "what are you doing here?"
He shrugged, hands in his pockets, bit his lower lip. He was tall, average looking, but something about him had struck her as unstable the very first time they met. "Detective Rizzoli wanted to meet me here. Says she has some information on the case."
"Jane is coming here?" She couldn't help but ask, her grip on her handbag tightening.
"Yeah," he said, "Supposed to be here any minute now." As he spoke, Paddy stirred. He opened his heavy eyelids and looked at Maura before glaring at Connors.
The aforementioned Detective Rizzoli ambled in, wearing comfort like an uncomfortable garment, and Maura immediately knew something was wrong. It was confirmed when Jane saw her standing by Doyle's bedside and her eyes went wild. "Maura," Jane croaked. "What're you doin' here?"
The sincerity, the fear, screamed against the surface for maybe a second or two, but then the bravado came back as she walked over to Connors. She pulled a small blue book out of her jacket pocket and held it out to him. "Good work, Detective," he said, and snatched it from her to put in his blazer.
"No," Doyle groaned, "no book." Maura's head snapped toward him and then she realized: Jane had found the book, the book Korsak told her could run all of Boston.
"I found somethin' else, too," Jane quipped. She pulled something else out of her pocket, this time a color photograph, showing Wally, Paddy, Connors, and Cummings deep in conversation outside one of Doyle's known properties. "Paddy stowed away this little piece of blackmail in that book. Looks like you're the dirty cop, and looks like you killed your partners Wally and Cliff."
"See you in hell, you son of a bitch," Paddy could barely get out the threat, but he smirked nonetheless. His mood plummeted when Connors pulled out the Desert Eagle he'd used on his partners and shoved it against Jane's sternum until they had backed up all the way to the far wall of the room.
"Jane!" Maura cried out, not able to do much more than yell. Paddy looked at her and then to Jane. He was clearly panicking.
"Maura," Jane put her hand up, "s'alright. You're alright."
"Don't worry, doc, you're next," Connors gruffed. "Don't bother screamin' anymore, girls. My guys are on the floor."
Jane winced at the hard pinch of a gun barrel on her chest. "Smart," she said, in a typically-Massachusetts smaht. "My prints are all over that thing." She smirked, too, though she had no business doing so.
"Well, I'm lucky like that, Detective," Connors said. "You got any last words?"
"Yeah," Jane replied, locking eyes with Maura as she spoke to him, "you feelin' lucky right now?" This angered Connors and he pulled the trigger. It let out only a lame clip in response. "No firing pin. I took 'em out of all the guns. That," Jane started, nodding to the gun, "that's not luck. That's covering all my bases."
"Hands up! Get 'em the fuck up!" Frost shouted as he entered the room with his weapon drawn.
"You heard him, Connors," Korsak said to a stunned Connors. He placed him in handcuffs right as Cavanaugh joined the fray, and then led him away.
This left Jane, Maura, Paddy, and Cavanaugh in the room to deal with the aftermath. "Good work, Rizzoli," Cavanaugh said and handed her her gun and badge. "Now get outta those Khakis and get back to homicide."
"Thanks, boss," said Jane, still scrutinizing Maura, whose heavy breathing had started to ease.
"And you get better so we can move your ass to walpole," Cavanaugh nodded to Doyle before he left.
Jane went to Maura with her hands on her belt. She wiggled her nose and sniffed.
"Are you ok?" Maura asked her, resisting the urge to rub her fingers over where she knew a bruise must have started to form on Jane's chest. Her tone was hard and almost sarcastic; it had to be to protect her from cracking herself open for Jane.
"Yeah," Jane threw her head to the side and nodded, her typical don't worry about me gesture that Maura loved and hated. "You?"
"I'm ok," Maura said, turning her eyes back to her father. "I don't like to see you in danger, even when we are fighting."
"Yeah I don't like it either," Jane said. She looked at Paddy who stared her down in begrudging respect.
Maura watched them size each other up. "I want to know something," she said to her father, "would you have shot her?"
Doyle seemed to consider it. When he finally decided on an answer, it shook Maura. "Hell yeah, you're a cop," he said to Jane. Both of the women could barely hear him, but the words were still icy. Full of handcuffed deadly intent.
Jane looked pointedly at Maura as if to say What did you expect? "I got somethin' I need to show you," she said, daring to touch Maura's wrist before she exited the room.
Maura followed her out, caught up to her at the elevator. They waited for the car down. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see when we get there," Jane said. She inched closer to Maura's shoulder until they bumped. "It's important."
"Are you driving me?" Maura asked, refusing to look Jane in the face.
"Yeah, if that's alright with you," Jane replied. "I saw Frankie pulling out just as I got in."
"Alright." It was the most agreeable Maura had been in days. They stepped into the car together, and Jane pressed the door close button before anyone else could join them. "How you doin' after Connors' goons trashed the house?"
"Shaken up. To be honest, I've been shaken up all week," Maura sighed. "I've ordered new furniture. They didn't touch the upstairs, so at least my room stayed somewhat of a safe haven."
"I miss ya bedroom," Jane whispered, tested the waters, dipped a toe in to measure the temperature.
"Don't, Jane. Just don't," the waters were ice cold. Maura stepped out first when the doors opened, and Jane ended up following her to the unmarked parked right in the fire lane.
The silence between them continued until they were well on their way to their destination. "Maura, how long're you gonna hate me for?" Jane finally asked as they navigated off of the highway.
"I don't know," Maura answered honestly. That she admitted to hating Jane at all hurt Jane deeply. She turned to her in confusion when they pulled into Boston Cemetery. "Why are we here?"
Jane cut the engine and shifted in the driver's seat so that Maura could see all of her front. "Listen to me. This is gonna be rough. What you're about to see is gonna be rough. But I'm here with you every step of the way, a'right? Whether you want me to be or not, I'm here."
Maura's stomach dropped with dread at how sincere and serious Jane sounded. "What are we doing?"
"C'mon," Jane said, stepping out of the car and then walking over to the passenger side so she could help Maura exit. Maura let Jane put a hand on the small of her back because she was afraid.
They ended their journey at Maura's very own gravestone. "What is this?" she asked, words quivering, barely able to pass from her lips.
"It's yours," Jane explained softly. "Sorta. Doyle had it made up when he told your mother that you had died. I'm sorry." she kept her hand on Maura until Maura dropped to her knees on the ground. She looked beautiful in her grief, just like her birth mother in a trench coat in early fall weather, weeping in front of this same grave.
"I always wondered why she never looked for me," Maura choked out through tears.
"She didn't have a chance, babe, he lied," Jane let a few tears well up in her eyes in sympathy, grateful that Maura couldn't see them while she stood behind her. "Can I be Jane yet? Can I help in any way?" she asked after she couldn't take Maura's crying anymore.
Maura shuddered after a few more seconds of silence. Then she stood up. She grew tired of feeling; she grew tired of sadness; she grew tired of trying to hold herself together. She suddenly craved sensation, needed to give herself over to proprioception, pressure, and unfettered pleasure. She turned to Jane; they faced each other and shared air. "I'm going to get my job back. But first, take me home, Detective."
Jane stepped even closer when Maura tugged her scratchy evidence management polo. "Yeah? What happened to 'don't?'"
Maura glowered, but she didn't move. "What happened to, 'I'll see it whenever I want'?"
"I want," Jane placed her hand on the column of Maura's throat, possessively, but with her thumb sliding lovingly over the tiny bump of Maura's larynx. "So show it to me."
"Didn't I just tell you to take me home?" Maura countered. "I don't plan on hiding it from you."
Jane gulped and moved her hand back to Maura's spine. They walked quickly to the car. Maura wanted to laugh when Jane fumbled with her seatbelt several times, but she refrained. "Nervous?" she asked instead.
"Impatient," Jane answered. She finally clicked the teeth into the buckle; the engine roared to life, and her tires squealed as she jerked away from the curb.
"We're going to try something new," Maura informed Jane. "You're going to try something new for me."
"Am I gonna regret agreeing to this?" Jane asked, but a smirk belied the fear in her question.
"Definitely not," Maura stated confidently. "It involves me being on top of you."
Jane hummed and her palms sweated. "Definitely not," she agreed, voice high and shaky.
"Ah…" Jane put her head back onto the pillowcase she had sweated through and held onto Maura's hips for dear life. "When… you… said… on top…"
"What?" asked Maura, annoyed, grinding hard and fast against Jane's pelvis with no mercy.
"I didn't think this… was… what you meant," Jane yelped, kicking her legs out as far as they would go, long and lean and flexing to stave off the roiling pleasure leaking from her brain to between her legs, and quick. "Christ, will you slow down? I'm gonna come too fast!" she tried to sit up, to put her face between Maura's bobbing breasts, to take a nipple into her mouth, but Maura pushed her back down. That would be too much: Jane's North End talk, Jane's mouth on her, Jane attempting to co-set the rhythm inside her would excite her too much.
"That's the point," she panted, hands sliding over Jane's abdomen slick with both of their sweat to keep her locked in place, to keep her own orgasm far enough away.
"Sweet Jesus fuck," Jane groaned loudly against the shell of her hand, now up over her face and amplifying her grunting. "Why would that… oh… be the point? Why would you want that?"
Maura closed her eyes and bit her lower lip as she felt Jane's muscles begin to quiver. She was so close and Maura wanted to shove her over the cliff. "To punish you," Maura said simply, ratcheting up their tempo even further. Her headboard pounded against her bedroom wall and she had to admit that she loved the way they looked as they fucked in broad daylight.
Her answer pissed Jane off - soon Maura was in the air, and shortly after that, she fell hard on her back against the mattress, not even aware that it was Jane that had thrown her, flipped her, until Jane was inside again and giving her a back-breaking deep stroke. "What the hell, Maura," Jane's breath was so close that when Maura opened her mouth to receive the detective's tongue, she could feel puffs of air as a prelude.
Their kisses were as chaotic as their lovemaking - Maura nipped at Jane, but then she soothed with a sweet, suckling row of her lips when Jane fucked her how she liked. Steady and fast and hard. And on top. "You know why we're doing this, right?" Maura asked when Jane's naked body started to feel too good, too comfortable against her own.
"So you can punish me?" Jane teased, using Maura's words from moments before against her. Maura swerved when Jane tried to kiss her again. "Why do you even have one of these anyway?"
She referred to the toy between them, the one strapped to her hips and inside of them both. Maura took the chance to land a jab that Jane unwittingly gave her. "You're not the only woman I've slept with, you know. I like to be prepared," she combined a glare with a smirk and touched Jane's nose with faux affection.
Jane chuckled. "You're not my first rodeo, either, Maura," she said, and Maura turned red, having expected the opposite. Jane let her sit in the revelation for a little while as she adopted Maura's pace from before. "Though I will say I've never really done this."
Maura's head spun at how fast the rug had been pulled from beneath her proverbial feet and how she should have seen it coming. She had thought that she was Jane's first woman, but that didn't scare her off wanting to try what they were doing now because she knew how athletic, how attentive, how competitive Jane was. Of course this would be no different. Jane needed no learning curves, not when she had a body like she did and she knew the person she was sleeping with as well as she knew Maura. Knowing now that Jane had been with women, at least in some capacity, slid the last piece of the puzzle into place. "Oh Christ…" Maura moaned hotly into Jane's ear, an echo of Jane's earlier sentiment, and the only exclamation she could find good enough for what she felt when she let her legs wrap limply around her best friend's.
"This is gonna feel way better for you if you stop trying to make me pay," Jane tried to sound authoritative and tough, but she hummed into their next kiss and the sound of it dismantled any potency the dig might have had.
"It's already good," Maura cried, wrapping her arms tight around Jane's shoulders to hide the naked emotion on her face, raw and wanting and receiving when she bit Jane's ear and held on.
"What was that?" Jane shot her head up and looked into Maura's eyes. Maura glared at the ruined moment, but Jane brought it back. "Say it again," Jane demanded, slowing her hips way way down as leverage. "Tell me you like it."
Maura's pride screamed at her not to do it, but her body clenched around Jane at the request. It implored her to reply, only if to hear Jane say something else as possessive. "I like it, I like it," she begged, though she wasn't sure what she was begging for. Maybe it was just for Jane to stay inside. She put her hands on either side of Jane's face. "Don't you dare stop."
Jane, hearing exactly what she wanted, held Maura down by her hips and pushed herself in so deep that Maura yanked her forward with her thumb in Jane's mouth at the sensation. Jane sucked on it and pulled back, let it hang limply against her bottom lip as she spoke. "You and me are gonna come together," she asserted through her own exertion, distorted by the appendage between her teeth, "no arguing."
And they did. But that didn't stop Maura from kicking Jane out as soon as they both regained the ability to breathe.