A/N: It's tax season, which means I don't know what day it is anymore. It also means that my favorite clients are going to nonchalantly and inadvertently tell me that their brand new yacht costs more than my house. Oof.
The Berkshires were about two and a half hours away from Beacon Hill. Between the snow and the traveling, Maura was exhausted from commuting. The Commonwealth had been grateful that she decided to spread her time and efforts in other parts of the state, but it was taking a larger toll on her than she thought.
Time away from Boston meant less time with her friends and family and more time on the road. But more importantly, it meant less time with Jane.
Jane who whined and complained when she left for days at a time. Jane who had adult-grade tantrums when she didn't return home for the night or worse, when she spent days if not a week away from Boston. Jane texted and called her more than she could respond or pick up. But when she was her the overpriced and personally paid for hotel room during off hours, Maura made the distance worth it.
However, this case took way more time and manpower than usual. She packed enough for a week and as time was dwindling, Maura realized that it wasn't sufficient. Sure, she could have gone to the Premium Outlets nearby, but did she really want to subject herself to polyester blends and non-tailored fits?
Maura told herself that she'd leave in the early morning and return the same evening. Spend a couple of hours at home, with Jane, and drive back. She and the local PD still had a lot of ground to cover with the most recent murders and Maura ground her teeth at the low-tech equipment available to her. Boston's funding had always been greater considering the volume and need, but this was just unacceptable. Thank God for Susie and FaceTime.
As she pulled into her driveway, Maura was relieved and thrilled to find Jane's unmarked car uncovered and parked behind the adjacent second car garage. The light dusting of snow on the hood signified that Jane had been home for a while. Opening the garage with ease, Maura smoothly parked into the space and turned the Rover off with a sigh of relief.
Home at last.
She opened the automatic lift gate to her trunk and retrieved her small duffle and Birken. With less than stellar posture, she slumped her way into the main house. The lights were dimmed despite it being later in the morning, but Jane's boots were neatly placed on the shoe mat by the front door. It was oddly quiet. Eerie, but welcomed nonetheless.
Hauling herself and her baggage up the stairs, Maura readjusted her bags and softly opened her bedroom door. Jane, in all her comfy glory, was knocked out in the middle of her king sized bed. Feet were sticking out from the bottom of the duvet and an overworn navy Red Sox crewneck was askew, which exposed a toned abdomen.
The sight alone made her fall—just a little bit more—in love with Jane.
Brunette curls wildly fanned across white pillow cases and arms were comfortably raised above her head. A sign that Jane was out cold. Maura quietly dropped her bags into the walk-in closet and changed into a black silk camisole with matching shorts. She tied her hair up into a messy bun and shuffled adoringly to her sleeping house guest.
The minute she pulled back the unevenly spread duvet, her wrist was taken hostage and she was yanked playfully onto the bed. The sleepy warmth Jane emanated was everything she needed. Absolute comfort and full of love. She nuzzled into the crewneck sweater, which smelled fondly of Tide and Jane. Clean and crisp. Homey and safe.
"How long ya here for?" Jane mumbled against her hair. Sleepiness coated every garbled word.
"I have to leave in about five hours. I'm meeting up with a few detectives to walk them through the evidence again."
"Dinner and drinks?" Jane cracked an eye open and wiggled her eyebrows in jest.
"Don't you dare," Maura groaned. "Not one of them is interested and you're all that I want and need."
"'Not one of them is interested?'" Jane mocked in an overly high-pitched tone. "Have ya seen yourself in the mirror?" She rolled over until her body was flush against Maura's side. Jane nudged her head into the crook of an exposed neck and draped a long leg over smooth ones. The brunette tugged until there wasn't a millimeter of space between them.
"You know what I mean. Why don't we plan an early dinner, hm?" Maura wrapped her arms around the sleepy detective using her as a body pillow.
"Like a date date?" Jane laughed lightly then jerked her hips harshly as pinscher like fingertips caught her exposed side.
"I can eat by myself, you know." Maura smiled. She loved a playful Jane. While this side rarely saw the outside world, she absolutely adored the fact that it was mostly reserved for early mornings or late late nights when Jane was too sleepy to care. Or when Jane really really wanted something. It was a side that only she was privy to.
"Mm, maybe you don't miss me as much." It was meant to sound like part of the cutesy charade, but the disappointment and longing were loud.
"My love," Maura chided, "I do miss you. If I didn't have to be there, I'd be here with you."
"Yeah, yeah. But you're choosin' to have all this extra stuff on your plate. Ya don't actually need to be there." Petulant, childish, and whiny Jane was only cute in theory.
Maura didn't have to open her eyes to know that there was a pout on a bronzed face. While Jane wasn't wrong per se, as Chief Medical Examiner, she made a commitment to uphold her new mandates—even if it was slowly depleting every ounce of energy she had left. She was afraid that if she kept overexerting herself, she'd burn out and the last thing she needed or wanted was to resent her post at just thirty-four.
But the traveling and time away from home wasn't just draining her, it was affecting Jane too.
"Does it make you unhappy?" Maura ran her fingers through soft curly hair.
"I'd never ask ya to leave or stop workin'. You know that." Jane relaxed deeper into Maura as tension ebbed and flowed. She was calm, but apprehensive.
"Don't bash around the bush. Does it make you unhappy?" Fingers authoritatively grasped the hair at the nape of Jane's neck. With a tug, brown eyes filled with uncertainty met compassionate hazel.
"Beat around the bush," Jane softly corrected. "I don't ever wanna be that partner who emotionally blackmails you into doin' less than what you're capable of or keeps you from doin' you wanna be doin'."
"Jay," Maura sighed. "Would it make it easier if I told you that I'm beginning to resent the additional responsibilities I've given myself?"
"I want you to make that decision for yaself. I don't want no part of that. You gotta do what's best for you."
"You are what's best for me and if that decision is being home with my family and my girlfriend, would you hold that against me?" Maura brushed their lips together. It felt like a big decision. Bigger than she thought it would be, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise. They needed to start communicating better and maybe this was a step in the right direction.
"Is that what you want?" Jane was patient. Overly patient.
"If I tell you, will you tell me how you actually feel about this?"
"No," Jane said with conviction. "I want you to make the decision for yourself with nobody else in mind. This is about you and your career. You gotta do you, baby." Jane slid fully and gracefully on top of Maura. Hands clasped together as Jane brought them over the blonde's head. Soft cotton was surprisingly comfortable against her bare skin. Jane's warmth never left and the duvet over both of them created a nest of comfort and love.
"I'll call the Governor after this case is over. I owe it to the local PD to see this case out."
"Yeah? Are you sure?" Jane's face tried to not light up. Dimples tried valiantly to not make themselves known.
"I love you more." Maura shakily smiled. It was an indescribable feeling to not be forced to choose. She expected an ultimatum. Jane's way or the highway. But walking into her house, seeing Jane in her bed, and knowing that she had to leave unnecessarily chipped away at her heart. Jane didn't really need to give her any sort of persuasive reasoning. Now that she had someone to come home to and someone that wanted her, Maura yearned to build a stable and consistent life together.
She wanted to be home. She wanted to roll her eyes at the petty little things that came with domesticity on a daily basis. Maura wanted to sit on the couch with a glass of wine and have titillating debates or mundane conversations with Jane. She wanted comfortable silences while they both sat near each other. She wanted to come home from work and bitch and complain about her day even if Jane yes'd her to death. Whatever was in store for them, Maura wanted it.
It wasn't about putting her career on hold for Jane or restricting herself because she was concerned about neglecting her partner. Maura genuinely didn't want nor need the additional stress of needless responsibilities that were previously delegated or handled properly before she decided to overhaul the chain of productivity. While things were certainly more efficient after the massive management restructure, there were other ways to maintain the status quo. Other methods that didn't involve her being away from home most of the month.
But most of all, Maura knew that she wouldn't need a clever hand to get her way with the Governor. While she was Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, she was also an Isles. Two very powerful individual personas and entities that granted her the ability to make immediate executive decisions flourished with finality in one phone call. While she worked extraordinarily hard to achieve all of her professional successes, Maura wasn't naïve to believe that she was tapped for the position by sheer skill and ability alone. To publicly appoint a member of the Boston Brahmin to a tenured position of power and authority was not a mistake. It was a strategic placement to appease those in the backgrounds. Maura Isles was well aware and not offended.
Who she knew and where she came from got her through the door. But what she knew and what she was capable of kept her there. That's how it worked and that's how it would always work—ethical practices be damned. But on occasion, when she knew the Isles side of her could outweigh and overpower the other, she used it to her advantage. Especially if it involved Jane. Maura wasn't just a doctor or a woman in love—she was equally a power broker in the grand scheme of things. She knew it and those in the game knew it too. It was a precariously balanced understanding and everyone was aware of the rules.
However, when it came to Jane using big brown puppy eyes against her, she was rendered to her knees. Weak and feeble, she caved. Every time, without fail.
"Don't be mad?" Jane asked with her face scrunched in hesitation and guilt. There was still a tinge of sleepiness that weighed down on her.
"No promises," Maura cautioned. "You always preface things with that when you should've asked for permission but didn't. This is you asking for forgiveness."
"Uh-huh," Jane admitted. "Can I go with you? I put in for some PTO and Cavanaugh cleared it. I don't hafta be at headquarters 'til Tuesday."
"Oh, really?" Maura raised an eyebrow comically.
"Yeah," Jane responded nonchalantly. "I gotta remind you that you're beautiful every day while we're out there."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," Maura reminded.
"Please?" Overly enlarged brown eyes paired with a pout was pathetic. Absolutely pitiful. But of course Maura caved.
"You're to stay in the hotel. No tagging along. No sitting in the car. No—"
"Cavanaugh called their Chief," Jane rushed out. "I was granted permission to help with the case."
Maura stared disapprovingly at Jane. A defined eyebrow rose and eyes were full of judgment. She should've been peeved. Jane didn't clear it with her before making an intrusive decision to encroach on her investigation. However, an important part of being in a relationship was picking and choosing battles. She didn't want to die on this hill. Not when she was more excited about the prospect of spending impromptu time together.
If she were brutally honest with herself, she'd admit that the detectives assigned to her case could use all the help they could get and what better resource than Boston's finest? But, she couldn't let Jane get away scot free. A little admonishment would do her love good considering the effort that seemed to have been seamlessly orchestrated. Feeling a little steamrolled didn't help either.
"You're a clever little thing, aren't you?" Playful condescension exuded from every word.
"I just wanted to spend time with you." Jane smiled bashfully.
Well, fuck. How was she going to poke fun at that?
"Okay, okay," Maura conceded. "I'm not mad. But you get one free pass, Jane Rizzoli."
"Mm, we'll see."
Five hours later after a two hour nap and a homemade dinner in lieu of going out, Jane was in the driver's seat of the Rover with their bags in the trunk. Maura comfortably relaxed on the passenger side and wiggled firmly into her heated seat. The satisfaction of small luxuries and Jane by her side thrilled her to no end.
She watched with rapt attention as Jane backed out of her driveway with confidence and ease. The muscle memory of being able to reach up, without looking, for the garage door button filled Maura with an attraction for Jane she didn't understand. The lanky brunette was effortlessly coasting along the cobblestone street with snow on the ground and cars crammed on either side of the road. For some reason, Maura found that Jane driving, especially her car, was an extreme turn on.
"Can you drive a manual?" It came out wistfully.
"Of course, I ain't no little priss." Jane sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. The palm of a scarred hand flexed effortlessly as the brunette rotated the steering wheel ninety degrees to the right and simultaneously tapped the lane changing blinker. Long fingers extended and softly gripped supple leather as the wheel smoothly spun back into place. The soft clicks of the turn signal echoed in Maura's ears even after the automated three ticks ended.
"Would you care to elaborate?" Maura tapped patiently on her denim covered knee.
"I grew up with two brothers, a coupla motorheads, and Pop made me learn in case I was ever someplace I didn't wanna be."
Once they got onto the Mass Pike, Jane relaxed further into her seat, held the wheel with a loose grip at six o'clock, and reached over to lay a warm hand on Maura's left thigh. Fingertips nudged their way between her legs to rest comfortably and warmly near the apex of her legs. Eyes fluttered shut and fingertips gripped possessively. Maura knew that this was the start of a long two and a half hour drive. She wasn't even sure if Jane knew what she was doing or not.
"So you're not a...priss?" Brows furrowed in confusion and her nose wrinkled in distaste for the descriptor.
"Duh. After ya learned, it was cooler to bang-a illegal uey when you were drivin' stick. If you burnt rubber, you were automatically the shit."
"Uhm, I don't underst—"
"Baby girl, it made sense then. It don't mean shit now." Jane laughed heartily in nostalgia.
Her thighs clenched together and she wasn't sure if it was from the new derivative of her usual pet name or Jane braking suddenly at the ocean of red lights in front of her. Typical. They left ten minutes after they should have, which now landed them in, at least, an hour of bumper to bumper traffic. Maura wasn't sure if she'd be able to sit comfortably and dry with Jane...being Jane.
"You'll have to show me sometime." Maura bit her lip and leaned back against the headrest. Jane's hand never left its place and in fact, it was clenching and unclenching around denim at sporadic intervals. It was driving her mad.
"Why's that?"
The Rover came to a complete stop. As did the other cars around them. The incessant beeping got louder and louder around them as traffic came to a standstill. A fender bender in the center lane, with people standing in the middle of the expressway, would definitely cause the turnpike chaos. Jane pushed the auto-hold button and removed her foot from the brake pedal.
"I find myself attracted to the way you navigate so confidently." Maura turned her head sideways to rake her eyes down Jane's form. A black fitted henley paired with dark wash jeans that looked painted onto legs completed the cool and collected look. The simplistic yet edgy style begged Maura to touch what she has missed since being away from home.
"Is it me drivin' all the time or you imagin' me drivin' stick?" Jane glanced up to the rearview mirror and flipped off the guy behind her. The standstill traffic moved a foot forward and he honked as if they were going to move a mile. Maura's intrigue only increased.
"It's specifically you driving my car and specifically, what I imagine, you driving 'stick.'"
"So you like it when I grip your things?" Jane's cocky smile should've embarrassed her, but it didn't. The hand on her thigh tightened and fingertips grazed roughly against the very top of her inner seam.
"I…" Maura trailed off. She didn't really understand why she found it attractive. It just...was.
"It's about the ability to wield and finesse," Jane offered. "You love my hands. Drivin' is like puttin' a show on for your little kink. And drivin' stick? I think that's about lettin' me be in control because you love it when you're under me. I get to steer you in any way I wanna and you love to be directed."
Smugness, astonishment, and realization filled the car. Jane trailed her hand from an overheated thigh to run her fingertips over sensitive knees in light circles. Maura's leg twitched and she caught a daring wrist before it moved any more north. She needed a clear head to mentally prepare herself for the job she had to do when they got to Pittsfield. Jane anywhere near unsafe territory was a surefire way to become distracted and aroused, which would be utterly unprofessional.
"You may hold my hand, but nowhere else. I need to be focused when we get there and you with your bold hands will do the complete opposite."
"That's not really my style." Jane brought Maura's hand up to her lips and kissed the back. Resting it back down on denim, a teasing scarred hand returned to its rightful spot: between yoga toned thighs.
"You're incorrigible, you know that?" Maura shifted in her seat before reaching for the automatic seat control. Slowly, she reclined until she was halfway down. Maura clasped their hands together and rested them gently on her stomach.
"Wait 'til you see me drive stick with the same hand on the wheel and shifting gears while the other is on you. Between your legs. That'll blow ya mind."
Her stomach lurched at the thought and Jane slyly dipped her fingers underneath the waistband of belted denim. They only had an hour and a half left to go.
It was brick cold by the time they got to Pittsfield. The downtown was crowded, but nowhere near the congestion they were used to. Jane weaved in and out the streets as if she owned them. The ambient yellow street lighting made red brick around them glow. They drove past the Federal style building on Allen Street and pulled into the car park adjacent to police headquarters. Historic churches and old stone façades surrounded them. Had it been any other time, it'd be a romantic getaway.
Jane reached for her jacket in the backseat and leaned over to quickly brush their lips together. These last few minutes would be the last moments of intimacy they had before switching gears to consummate professionals. Maura stretched out her back and slid her arms back into her coat sleeves. She reached for the door handle only for it to be opened for her.
A Bottega Veneta tote bag in one scarred hand and the other was held out for her to take. Maura chuckled at the sight. Never in a million years would the Italian with a sandpaper like exterior be caught dead with a three thousand dollar purse on her arm. Maura took the proffered hand and was gently led out of the Rover. She reached for her bag as Jane's long arms zipped up her coat.
Their jackets matched. Her basin green parka against Jane's matching black one was complimentary. Jane had her everyday block-heeled boots tucked underneath dark wash Levi 725's and Maura stood inches shorter in flat Dubarry boots over her signature skin tight Balmain's. There was no mistaking that they weren't together. The ease, love, and affection between both of them could be seen from miles away.
"Are we meetin' them in the PD or…" Jane placed ungloved hands over a parka covered waist.
"There's a place we've gone to before," Maura clarified. She clasped Jane's cold hand with her fleece-lined gloved one and pulled her in the direction of the restaurant. "It's only a five minute walk."
"Who am I meetin' again?" Their shoulders kept bumping into each other and eventually, Jane wrapped an arm around her as they walked warmly up the street.
"Two detectives—Linda and Michael. Fair warning, they're from a small town. They're in no way close minded, but their language can get a little...colorful?" Maura felt the tension around her shoulders from Jane's arm.
"How colorful?"
"Uhm, well I'm not sure—"
"Archie Bunker or Dick Cheney?" Jane stopped them just before the restaurant. They parted as far away from each other as to begin the act of professionalism, but Maura always had a magnetic pull to Jane.
"Definitely Archie Bunker. Remember, it's still a democratic town. They're just a little rough around the edges." Maura adjusted the collar of Jane's coat and flattened the hanging drawstrings.
"You tryna tell me somethin'?" Jane grinned.
"Never." Maura smiled. "Just behave. You're here as a guest, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah. Don't step on nobody's toes, don't stick my foot in my mouth. I got it, baby."
"And remember, my love," Maura became serious and gripped Jane's chin between her thumb and pointer to emphasize her point. "It's Maura, Maur, Dr. Isles, Isles, etc. You started slipping up at work and while I'm unfazed by it in Boston and no one cares, it's different here. Remember who I am."
"Alright already," Jane whined. The brunette pulled the door open and immediately scanned the room. She nudged her head in the direction of the two very obvious law enforcement officers sitting in the back. "My Queen, lead the way."
Maura shook her head, ignored the smart ass comment, and strolled into the restaurant. Linda and Michael sat all the way in the back. The booth was in the left corner, their backs against the wall, and beers on the table. Plain clothes could not mask the aura of authority that came from them nor could the utility belt affixed with a standard issued semi-automatic pistol. They stood as they greeted Maura and took her jacket.
Linda jovially stuck her hand out to Jane and shook it with gusto. A fellow female detective in a male dominated arena was always an instant friend. However, Michael looked right passed her and dull brown eyes raked down Jane's form from head to toe. As Jane shucked her coat off, Michael's eyebrow rose slightly and an instant blush washed over his cheeks.
Maura regretted this meeting instantly.
Three hours, four beers per detective, and a bottle of wine later, the cohort disbanded. Evidence was discussed, although very briefly, and laughter with a dash of cringe filled the rest of their time together. Linda and Michael had been partners for over eleven years and finished each other's sentences with ease. Their families were close and they had a great working relationship. More akin to brother and sister. Linda always checked Michael when words got a little more off putting than socially acceptable and Michael would elbow Linda when she went off on a tangent about "big city people." Overall, dinner was almost like a double date. Almost.
While they were great detectives, they had limited resources. The triple homicide followed by a double within six days had the community in shambles. The Governor loaned Maura out to them and they welcomed her with arms wide open. When they heard Boston's highest closer and local hero was also available, they jumped at that opportunity too. Eight hands and four brains were better than what they had before.
It was late and there wasn't much more that could have been done in the office. They ended dinner with the plan to reconvene the following day. The local detectives and Jane argued about picking up the tab, but Maura put a stop to the friendly competition with the roll of her eyes. She planned for this as Linda and Michael refused to let her pay for anything throughout the duration of her stay in Pittsfield. An hour or so ago, she "went to the restroom" and slipped the waitress her card. Problem solved.
Maura and Jane got escorted back to the Rover and finally made the journey to the hotel. If it could really be called a hotel. Fifteen minutes south, they arrived in Lenox and Jane only tried to hit one deer that decided to play in traffic. Maura braced for impact, but Jane smoothly avoided it and kept going as if nothing happened.
When they pulled up to Maura's accommodations, Jane's eyes widened and she whistled for emphasis—half in shock and half in awe. Canyon Ranch shouldn't be called a ranch. It was one hundred twenty acres of luxury resort and the property itself was grandiose. Befitting for an Isles, but it made a Rizzoli uncomfortable.
"Uh, where should I park?" Jane came to a dead stop before she drove another meter into the resort.
"Valet, love. Just pull up." Maura pointed to the four stately white pillars with a fountain peacefully flowing next to the entrance.
As Jane rolled underneath the covered entryway, Maura's door was opened immediately. The trunk opened and two men grabbed their baggage from the back. Jane was fumbling with her wallet and Maura briskly walked to her side. A gloved hand firmly gripped worn leather with about a hundred bucks of cash in it. Her eyes and raised eyebrow conveyed a clear message: No.
Maura clasped their hands together and lovingly led Jane inside and up to her room. The lobby was ornate, but had a very soothing atmosphere. Maura's shoulders immediately relaxed and it felt as if the weight of the world just dissipated. At least for a while. The bellhop pushed the button of her floor for them and Jane stood stoically, but still wrapped around Maura.
Soon enough, they were in Maura's scenic view suite with a king-sized bed adorned with plain bedding on top. Corners tight and the bed looked so crisp, a quarter could bounce from the duvet. Their luggage was placed respectfully by the closet and her smaller bags were placed in the bathroom. The bellhop left without a word and Maura answered the room phone as the concierge called to check if she needed anything.
"This why you're not comin' home?" Jane snorted as her arms gestured to the immaculate and pristine room. It screamed my watch cost more than your car.
Maura hung up the phone and was unsure of how to respond. Jane didn't sound angry or annoyed. She was laughing and eventually, she took a seat on the decorative but overly comfortable chair by the window. Maura pulled her boots off and gestured for Jane to do the same. Between the snow on the ground and the salted roads and sidewalks, she couldn't function knowing that dust and debris were soon going to be embedded in the carpet.
"What's really bothering you?" Maura sat across Jane's lap and wrapped her arms around a tense body.
"The duvet is fancier than my underwear." Jane gripped trim hips and spun Maura around until she straddled long legs.
"Does it help that they'll both be on the floor in about five minutes?" Feather-like brushes of lips trailed up and down the column of a tan neck. She missed the feeling of Jane around her. Maura missed the feeling of Jane's hands on her. But most of all, she missed being completely consumed with pleasuring Jane.
"I'm serious," Jane stated. "No Best Western? No Hampton Inn? Hell, I woulda thought the Courtyard up the street woulda been nice. Are Boston's taxpayers payin' for this?"
"Are you upset because you think I'm abusing the system or because you're uncomfortable?" Maura was patient. Jane wasn't yelling, she was talking. But if she kept it up, Maura was going to lose all ability to remain calm. Jane's tone was bordering on the line of offense and discomfort, but Maura wouldn't be able to remedy the situation if somebody didn't start talking.
"Why didn't you let me tip the guy downstairs? I had the mon—"
"Everything is built into the nightly rate. It's a no-tipping resort. But, do all patrons tip at the end and leave before they can say anything? Of course. We just respect them enough to not do it blatantly." Maura sat on her heels and wiggled to find a more comfortable position. Trying to have sex in this position was one thing, but to have a financial conversation without the possibility of an orgasm made it ridiculously uncomfortable.
"And how much does this shit cost?" Jane rolled her eyes, but sucked in a breath.
"Jane, that's not important. Can't we just—"
"How much, Maur?" Bull-headed and stubborn.
"Jane, I don't want to—"
"Maur, just say it. A buck fifty? Five hunj? A cool thou? Lemme guess, more than I get paid—"
"I don't know," Maura guiltily interjected. "I just called and booked it. I gave the concierge my credit card number and that was the end of it."
Intense staring could have started a fire. Jane sank further into the chair and Maura followed. She could tell that the detective was upset. Angry and frustrated, but Maura wasn't sure why. They never really talked about money and if they edged on the conversation, Jane always backpedaled far away from the topic. The doctor wasn't that naïve, she knew they came from two completely different backgrounds, but they still made it work. It shouldn't ever be an issue or point of contention. Jane had to have known that she wasn't exactly struggling nor was she strapped for cash. Jane had to know how much her wardrobe, cars, and quarterly tax payments cost.
"Ballpark." Jane hooked her arms underneath Maura's denim-clad ass and lifted. Legs wrapped around a lithe waist and soon, she was deposited onto the Tempur-Pedic mattress.
"Twelve, maybe thirteen hundred?" Maura's button closure on her jeans was being toyed with teasingly and she remained still as a statue until Jane relinquished whatever hostility she had pent up.
"A night? A week? For a work trip? A bit excessive, no?" Jane lifted the hem of her shirt up. A chilly nose and damp lips pressed against her bare abdomen. Maura parted her legs wider and reminded herself to breathe evenly.
"A night. Are you mad at me?" Maura's breath hitched as Jane's tongue flicked along the waistband of her jeans.
"No, I just don't understand. Ma always says, 'Just 'cause ya can, don't mean you should.' Seems a little wasteful."
"Jay," Maura groaned. "We're going to talk about this once and once only. I hate discussing it just as much as you do, but it's part of being in a relationship. Before we get married, we'll talk about it again, but this doesn't change anything. And not only that, what's mine is yours, okay?"
"...got it." Jane paused. The 'M' word shocked her, but naturally, it made sense. She thought of it too. But to hear it in this context, prenuptial agreements, lawyers, and calculators infiltrated her mind. It made her uneasy, but there wasn't anything she wouldn't do for Maura either.
"First question: have you ever seen my driver's license?" Maura sat up with her back against the headboard.
"Uhh, no?" A bronzed forehead, nose, and mouth scrunched up in confusion.
"It doesn't have my home address on it. It's to a local office in Boston. You'll meet her one day, but Elizabeth is part of my financial management team." Maura sighed and folded her hands politely onto her stomach. This conversation was beginning to make her nauseous.
"...okay? Ya really think any cop in Mass is gonna give ya a ticket?" Jane leaned her head forward and she brought her fingertips together, upright while waving them up and down. Incredulity, disbelief, and a slight attitude graced Italian features.
"She pays all my bills, wires me a monthly allotment, and advises me on whether or not I should make a large purchase. Ultimately, it's my decision, but I trust her."All monthly expenses, financial documents, and investments never had her address on them. It was easier to centralize the location of where bills were mailed to ensure that everything was tracked properly and paid for on time. It's not that she didn't know how to independently manage her own finances, but the volume of accounts and fiscal responsibility was overwhelming for one person. She was Isles, had the resources, and needed a team. So she got one.
"But you have a mortgage? If you've got more money than the Vatican, what's the point?" Jane was trying to reconcile between what she knew to be a lot of money and what was actually an obscene amount of money. None of what Maura was saying was being processed. It just sounded like a bunch of words with dollar signs in front of them.
"The interest accrued on my mortgages is significantly less than what I collect from all monies made from my investments. It's beneficial to finance the house, rather than lose any equity, dividends, or interest paid from a lump sum if I decided to purchase it out right." Maura switched from girlfriend to financier in the split of a second. She was good with numbers. They made sense to her. In fact, there was nothing better or more satisfying than dealing with finite solutions.
"I don't wanna sound rude as fuck, but baby, how much are we talkin' about? I knew you were loaded, but this sounds like some—"
"Hundreds of millions." Maura's cheeks felt like acid got doused on them. The burning blush settled in her chest and it bloomed into full-bodied redness. She had never said those words out loud. Her mother and father would surely have had a stroke if they heard her. It was rude and unbecoming of a lady, let alone an Isles, to discuss such matters. That was the first lesson she learned before entering her first day of child enrichment at just three years old. But Jane operated on words and affirmations. Specifics and details. Maura couldn't sugar coat it.
"What? "
"That's not inclusive of my salary, paid lectures, and guilty parents." Might as well air everything out.
"What do you do with it all?" Jane slumped against Maura in sheer bewilderment.
"Invest, mostly. Whether it's property or technology and I choose three charities a year to make a considerable cash donation to." Charitable acts sounded good in theory, but Maura knew better.
"Don't rich people do that for the tax breaks?" Apparently Jane knew better too.
"Usually, but they tend to donate illiquid or non-marketable securities, more often than not, because it's a lot harder to proof out real estate and shares of private companies than cash. For example, let's say the estimated assessed value of a donated house is to a non-profit is $7 million, while the asset itself, upon realization, is actually worth $2 million. The donor would get to maintain the $7 million tax deduction, despite the actual value and the organization really only received $2 million."
"Too much information," Jane groaned. "But that sounds fraudulent."
At this point, the resignation in Jane's voice was pitiful. Anything asked and answered increased shock value and suspicion of the wealthy. Money was a luxury, but with it came fiscal responsibility and philanthropic requirements. Tax breaks for philanthropy were designed to serve the rich and the rich only. Even if the IRS could prove fraudulent activity, thousand dollar an hour attorneys would fight the claim until every resource was exhausted. Ultimately, it would get swept under the rug.
"You asked and it's considered a...grey area." Maura chuckled.
"I'm still paying for my own shit and yours when we're out, okay?" Jane was so over this conversation. Between the detailed financial literacy she never wanted to think about again and Maura basically admitting that she could bail Greece out, Jane wanted to get back to the matter at hand.
"Have I stopped you before?"
"No, but I wanna be equals in this." Jane was firm. Unwavering.
"Jay, nothing is going to change. Unless you don't like how things have been going?"
"I wanna do more for you. I'm practically livin' at your place, eating your food, and drivin' that European beast all through the snow."
"You buy groceries, you pay for gas, and you shovel my driveway. What more could I ask for?" Maura yelped as Jane rolled on top of her. Laughter filled the room despite the tension, but they tabled it for now. It wasn't like Maura could control her wealth and Jane couldn't suddenly amass hundreds of millions of dollars. It was just something else they had to navigate through together. More Jane than Maura because if the socialite never said anything, Jane would be none the wiser.
"Is that all I'm good for, baby?" Jane nipped at her neck. "Shovelin' your driveway, driving you 'round, and servicin' you?" Clearly, this was where Jane wanted to be.
"Well, you haven't actually gotten to the 'servicing' part of this agreement…"
"Lemme fix that."
Maura unbuttoned her own pants and pushed them roughly down the first half of her legs. Jane yanked them the rest of the way down and immediately spread her legs open. The smallest scrap of fabric covered barely concealed wetness and Maura pulsed at the scrutiny Jane stared at her with. The dichotomy of her lower half freezing from the winter air versus the warmth her sweater provided made her clench in anticipation.
It was frenzied. Rushed and hot. Maura tried to pull her thick cable knit over her head, but got stuck as Jane pulled the front of soaked fabric sharp against her clit. Her hips jerked in response and she gave up on removing her sweater. She fell against the pillows and allowed Jane ingress to her body. God, she really needed this.
And as Jane began to pull ruined satin down her legs, her cell phone vibrated from the night stand. Not her personal one, no—the government issued, three-generations old BlackBerry. Four text messages in succession were never a good sign, but her brain was short-circuiting as Jane flung her thong to the side of the bed. Just as her lover swooped down, Maura regretfully placed her hand gently on Jane's forehead.
"I have to check that," Maura ruefully stated.
It was Michael. Of course it was. Another body was found near the Pittsfield State Forest and this time, it was sloppy. That meant mistakes and mistakes meant evidence. The domino effect of impatience was what drove Maura and Jane. They excelled at examining the finer details and together, they made an unstoppable and irrefutably successful duo. However, Maura just wished that it didn't always interrupt them when they needed to connect the most. After talking about one of the most difficult parts of any new relationship, Maura wanted nothing more than to solidify their commitment and love by making Jane come undone.
But maybe it was a sign. Maura really wanted to do this right. This was going to be her last first time and she really wanted nothing more than to fuck Jane at home. In her bed and be fucked in her bed too. There was always something about a good homecoming fuck that made sex a hundred times better.
Together they got dressed in silence and begrudgingly trudged into the cold.
A/N: Title: U Got it Bad by Usher. I also had Always be My Baby by Mariah Carey on repeat. *shrug*
