Tommy Rizzoli sweated through the underarms of his shirt, even when the nighttime breeze cooled the temperature outside to around sixty-five degrees, enough for his light overshirt to be necessary. Well, at least he thought it would be, before the sweat nozzles turned on. It was a Rizzoli thing: they all sweated, just like their father. Most of the time the situation called for it, like when they were playing, or working.
But Tommy detested his anxious sweating. It gave him away, usually during the highest stake moments of his life: job interviews, parole hearings, AA meetings, things of that nature. So, standing here in front of Maura's door, with a small bouquet of flowers he'd picked up at Trader Joe's in Back Bay on his way from a job, he aired out his arms and hoped his cologne would pick up the slack.
He knocked on the door, deciding not to use his key because it would be the more gentlemanly thing to do, and then immediately rang the doorbell. God, he was nervous. He was acting entirely on impulse, and after seeing Maura and Jane together last night at the kitchen table, his jealousy provided the spark for that impulse.
Maura answered, clearly just home from work, and looking striking in her capri slacks and sleeveless blouse. She saw him and smiled, shaking her head in a benign sort of confusion. "Tommy, hi," she said.
"Hey Maura. Janie here?" He asked, smiling back and giving her the flowers. As soon as they left his hand, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the cheek. Then he wiped his palms on his jeans.
"No, she's working late," Maura said. "Thank you for these; they'll need a vase. Come in?"
"Yeah, sure," Tommy replied, sighing in relief that he wouldn't have to see Jane. His gamble paid off. When Maura rummaged under the sink for one of her sturdier, everyday vases, he continued. "So listen. I know it's kinda short notice and you're probably tired from work, but there's this carnival out in Revere tonight."
"Oh?" Maura called behind her back, with him not far behind as she straightened the small arrangement in the vase. She resolved that she would bring in some of her own flowers once he had left to spruce it up. The bouquet itself had good bones, but it needed help.
"The summer carnival. Travels around New England and it's in Revere for the next couple weeks. Thought I'd see if you wanted to go - I'm not goin' back to the 6th street house until Jane can help me out this weekend, and it looked like fun," Tommy explained.
Maura turned around at his affable insistence. "You want me to go to the carnival with you?" she asked, "right now?"
"Yeah," Tommy answered, "It just opened up for the night." He looked at his watch and showed it to her. 7:00 PM.
"I've never been to a carnival before," she admitted, "I've always been curious."
"I figured it might be a new experience for you. I got a ticket with your name on it. What do you say?"
Maura truly thought about it. She regarded him, how he bounced on his heels, tapped his long fingers against the kitchen island like Jane did when she expected an answer. He had that same handsome face, too, and she couldn't resist reaching out and patting it. He'd just shaved, so it was smoother than she remembered. When she moved her hand to his shoulder, rubbing her thumb over the fabric of his shirt, it was the most she had touched him in at least two weeks. "Let's go. I've always wanted to try it," she said finally, and the excitement that subsequently oozed out of him wafted onto her.
"Great! You're gonna like it, trust me. C'mon," he beckoned her toward the front door.
Maura chuckled. "Ok, ok. Let me get me my purse, please," she said. She took it from the front table, and snatched a light cardigan from the hall closet before he could drag her outside. She locked up and then faced him on the front step.
"We'll go in my truck. I was able to find a spot just about a block away," Tommy explained. When he held out his hand for her, she grabbed his elbow instead, pulling his arm down and letting him lead her to his vehicle.
"What made you decide on the carnival tonight?" she asked him after he had closed the passenger side door and sat down behind the wheel.
"We used to go all the time when we were kids, you know? And I guess I miss those simpler times," he said, looking over at her when he started the engine. "And I thought it might be cool to do it with someone who hasn't before. See that kind of reaction for the first time again."
"Hmm, well I hope I don't disappoint," Maura said, staring out the window at the darkening sky and orange street lights.
"Ah. You won't. You never do," Tommy replied kindly. They filled the car ride with easy conversation and Maura laughed at his silly faces as they encountered impatient, angry drivers on their way.
When they arrived, he pulled into the dirt lot that had been marked off for parking at the carnival, flashed his tickets, and gave the teenage attendant a ten for a VIP spot. The engine of his old truck sputtered and rumbled as it stopped. Maura liked the sound of it, unlike anything she was used to in her childhood, but something she'd come to know intimately in the recent months: Tommy dropping Jane off at work after an early morning plumbing consult; the three siblings bussing tools, boxes, and themselves back and forth between her guest house and their old home; Jane driving the truck herself when her own car broke down just outside her apartment building during the middle of their first heat wave of the year. In short, she associated the tuft, tuft, tuft, with Rizzoli chaos, so warm and so life-giving when it filled her time with all of them.
She also associated the mechanical heartbeat and the smell of gas with Tommy himself when he opened the door for her, taking her hand as she dropped out of the cab. "Thank you," she said, blushing a little when he stood before her. The way he put his hands in his back pockets showed off the muscles of his abdomen.
"You're welcome," he said softly. "Let's go."
The carnival itself was huge. Maura wondered at the flashing lights of the welcome arch as they walked under it, stopping to admire the glow of the red and white bulbs as Tommy handed another kid in a bright orange vest their tickets. She marveled at the glow of the ferris wheel as it spun defiantly against the darkness of the night sky, at the blinking signs advertising all sorts of games she'd only seen in movies. As they walked toward the center of the fairground, she spotted a grand, ornate carousel, and Tommy tapped the small of her back.
"Wanna ride it?" He asked, his voice low and happy just above her ear.
She had to admit she'd always been interested. "I think so, yes," she said. Then she let the sights and smells around her, the children laughing and the adults chattering away, make her almost as impulsive as him. "But let's get popcorn first. It smells amazing."
"You got it! I thought I'd have to bribe you to eat fair food with me, but at this rate, I'll have you tastin' the deep fried oreos before you know it,'' Tommy pumped his fist in the air and led them to one of the concession stands spread throughout the neon-filled walkways.
"You definitely won't," Maura warned, "but I'll let you tell me all about them if you want."
Tommy laughed and got in the popcorn line with her. "Good compromise. One time, I musta been like twelve, and my parents let the three of us go hog wild once we got through the gates. I honestly think they just wanted to be away from us for awhile," he started, and Maura giggled. That was probably true. "So, Janie, who was sixteen at the time, dared me to eat as many as I could. She handed me a twenty and said go nuts!"
"Oh no," Maura said, laughing more earnestly now. "I can already sense where this is going."
"See? We were competitive even back then. I told her that I'd do it, but if I ate more than ten, she'd have to give me another twenty," Tommy continued. He paid when they got up to the window, and handed Maura the large container of deliciously buttered popcorn. "And she accepted the bet, but with her own condition: if I puked, I had to give her forty bucks. I told her she was on."
"Did you? Vomit?" Maura asked. She leaned against the temporary railing of the carousel line, tossing kernels into her mouth, looking up at him. She was riveted at his story, imagining the Rizzolis as children in a place like this.
"Oh absolutely," Tommy shook his head as though it were obvious, and maybe it was. He popped a few kernels in his own mouth and chuckled when she did. "Upchucked all over myself after goin' on the tilt-a-whirl. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best ride to choose after eatin' a whole package-worth of fried oreos. They had to hose me off in the back of the lot. Jane laughed all the way home."
"I can imagine her delight," Maura said, covering her smile with her forearm. They reached the front, and Tommy took the popcorn bucket from her so that she could hold onto the pole of the horse she mounted in front of him.
"Oh it's ok; you can laugh. She was fuckin' tickled," he shouted as the ride started and the music played around them. Maura wasn't looking at him, but rather looking ahead, head thrown back and eyes alight with mirth. His heart dropped and soared with the seat under him as the lights caught her blonde-brown hair. He was content just to watch her as she enjoyed herself and they spun; he felt loss when the twirling slowed and the ride eventually stopped.
Maura sighed when she dismounted and turned to him. "That was fun!" she said happily, and he delighted in the hand she put on his chest. He looked around them, desperate to find something that would keep that look on her face.
"Oh hey look!" He said when he thought he spotted it, "a strength tester! I've always wanted to try one!"
Maura followed his pointer finger to the giant red hammer game next to a booth full to the brim with stuffed animals and shrugged. "We did what I wanted first, so lead the way."
Tommy grabbed her hand and took her with him as he trotted over. She jogged to keep up, but his boyish enthusiasm made her grin. He stepped on up, and took the hammer from the attendant as the kid explained the rules. "Ok, you think you got what it takes?" the boy said as he tossed his wavy brown hair out of his eyes. Maura shook her head.
"Oh I know I do," Tommy said gamely. He raised the hammer high over his head, and then brought it down on the plunger with all his might. He grunted with the exertion, and Maura jumped at the sound. The bell at the top clanged when it was hit, and the yellow lights above the game flashed over the word winner! Tommy stood back and admired his handiwork for a moment.
"Damn, sir!" The boy cursed, unable to help himself or the surprised guffaw that came out of his mouth. "Come on over to the booth and we'll get you a prize - any one you want."
Tommy pointed to the medium-sized gray stuffed elephant on the top shelf. "That one," he said, and the boy nodded, handing it to him. Once he had it in his possession and they'd walked a few steps away, he stopped them. "Here ya go," he said, giving it to Maura.
Maura smiled and took it. She wasn't quite sure what she'd do with it, but he'd clearly won it for her, so she knew she'd find a place. "Thank you, Tommy. That was sweet of you." She held it to her chest and started to walk back toward the games, but he stayed where he was. "Are you alright?" she asked, turning back to him.
He sniffed, but kept his eyes on her. "I was an ass," he said, and when she tilted her head, he clarified. "To Jane, I mean. I know I was. With the pancakes, and then with the going off on her at the job site. But Janie… she's my big sister and she just pushes buttons I didn't even know I had."
Maura smirked and rolled with it. "She pushes buttons I didn't know I had either," she said. "You're not alone."
"I don't want to hurt her. But… I gotta be honest. I brought you here to show you that we can have fun, Maura. Outside the bedroom. I know I'm not the smartest or most romantic guy, but I know how to make you laugh and we enjoy each other's company. And I kinda wanna keep doin' that. Exclusively. I know that changes the rules, and you don't have to answer me now. I just wanted to put my cards on the table, because I think you're worth takin' a shot on."
Maura stood, rooted to her spot, unable to answer. She envisioned it, what he was asking, the trips to the movies, the baseball games, the drives over to job sites when he'd forgotten to pack a lunch or taken the wrong kind of piping. It involved a lot of the things she'd grown to like over the past few months. It involved him, his pleasant laugh, his handsome smile. Affection for him simmered when she thought about it all, warm, comfortable against her ribcage. She just couldn't bring herself to say anything in reply, to feel conviction.
He seemed to understand this, and led her gently to the line for the ferris wheel. And when they didn't address it for the rest of the night, he laughed with her, talked with her, like he was content to wait all the way home and beyond.
"Where's Jane?" Maura, the next evening, asked Barry as he typed away at his computer. She fiddled with one of Jane's paperweights while she awaited his answer.
She hadn't thought much about Tommy's proposition after she went to bed the night before, because they had caught a gruesome murder first thing Friday morning and it had been a mad dash to catch the person Jane was pretty sure gunned down his wife and her boyfriend.
"She and Korsak are ripping into our suspect in Interrogation 2," he replied. He stopped at a comfortable place and then looked up at her. "You need her for something? I can slip her a note."
"No, not anything urgent, anyway. When she comes out, tell her that I confirmed the male victim died first, shot in the head from behind, most likely on his knees," she said. "She can call me if she has any questions, but I know you both suspected this."
"We did," said Barry. He crossed his arms and sighed. "Thank you, though. I'll let her know. The whole situation's just a damn shame, you know?"
"The murder?" Maura asked. She smoothed the front of her dress and crossed her ankles.
"Well yeah, but everything, really. Like damn. If you're not happy in your relationship, just say so. And if someone tells you they're not happy in y'all's relationship, you definitely do not have license to kill them," replied Barry.
"Well, of course not," Maura agreed. "And I agree that honesty is key in any relationship."
"Exactly. Though I guess you can't really plan for your husband being a homicidal asshole."
Maura chuckled once at his observation. "I guess not. I'll see you later, Detective Frost. Have a good weekend."
"Yup, you too, Doc," he said, moving back to his paperwork. "I'll tell Jane you were lookin' for her!" he called after her as she made her way back to the elevators.
"Thank you!"
Sorry this is late, but that interview kept me back. Frost said you needed me? When Maura answered the phone, Jane launched into their conversation without a greeting. It was endearing.
"Well, needed is a strong word," Maura teased, "but I wanted to let you know that I confirmed the boyfriend died first."
I knew it, Jane said.
"You guessed it," Maura corrected, "that's different."
Maybe so. But guessing usually works out for me.
"We're different in that way."
Guess so. See what I did there? Anyway, did you go home?
"No, I'm just filing some reports before the weekend and then I was going to leave. Why?" Maura asked, sitting back down in her desk chair, intrigued by Jane's question.
I'm starvin' and I'm on my way to Pellino's. Wanna meet me there? Jane asked, and Maura heard the tiredness in her voice. She wanted to tell her friend to go home instead, and order in. There were plenty of places still delivering in the North End at 8:30 PM. But, it was a Friday night, and it was Pellino's. Their place. Well, it started as Jane's place: the restaurant that cooked like an upscale version of her mother and occasionally gave her free plates after she agreed to park her unmarked out front following a series of break-ins on their block. She'd taken Maura one night after an open-and-shut robbery/homicide, and they'd eaten the fluffiest, butteriest gnocchi Maura had ever tasted. And she'd traveled all over Italy - many times. Jane had talked with her mouth full and spoken a half-drunk Sicilian with the cook from the back, and Maura had been enamored with the spot ever since.
"Of course. See you in twenty?" she said breathlessly.
Sounds good, babe. See you then. Maura shuddered as she pressed the end button on her phone. It was the first time Jane had called her that outside of the bedroom and it made her heart race.
She gathered her belongings as quickly as she could and took the stairs up one level to the parking garage. When she pulled out the fob for her Prius, her hand trembled with what she knew to be giddiness. For Pellino's, she told herself. They had a shrimp risotto that was to die for, and she and Jane hadn't been in ages. Months at least.
She made the short drive to Haymarket, put her cash in the parking machine, and then trotted out onto the street with her Birkin bag on her elbow. She passed the window fronts of several Italian bakeries, butcher shops, and restaurants, until she spotted her favorite Italian person in the glass of a nondescript building with a classy sign above the door that read Pellino's Ristorante. Maura watched Jane unseen for just a moment, cataloguing her countenance so as to know how she should approach.
Jane's shoulders slumped at their usual table, the one on the wall off to the side, just out of the way of the small floor that the owners cleared for dancing on Friday nights. They always played Italian-American classics - nothing fancy, but it was as tasteful as it was unassuming. Jane liked to listen to the music and tap her fingers on the tabletop in time to the beat when it came on. She was doing that now: slowly, intermittently. It had been a long day, but the music wasn't completely absent in her, so Maura knew Jane would be in a good mood. She could approach with love.
"Hi," Maura said as she dragged her palm from one strong shoulder to the other. She deposited her bag on the floor next to her when she sat across from Jane, scooting her chair forward.
Jane looked up. "Hi yourself," she responded hoarsely, and then she frowned. "I woulda pulled that out for you."
"I know you would've," said Maura. She patted Jane's left hand, still on the table and holding the menu. "Why do you think I came up quietly? You've had a long day and I can pull out my own chairs. What are you having?"
Jane smirked. "Usual. When they make pappardelle this good why do I need anything else?"
"To be fair, they only make it with the 'nduja for you," Maura raised her eyebrow. She perused the wine list and with just a wrist flick and a point in the table's direction, their regular server knew exactly which Chardonnay to bring.
"What can I say? I have endeared myself to my Calabrisi brother in the back," Jane said offhandedly.
"He does adore you, that's true," Maura said, laughing softly. "It's hard not to, though."
"It's my long bones," Jane quipped with a wink.
"Something like that," Maura played along. "You're in an awfully good mood, despite how tired you are. I take it your interrogation went well?"
"It did. I pulled out the little detail you found with the shell casings and he caved. Finally," Jane explained. She sipped her glass of wine when the server left. "God that's good."
"Always is," Maura agreed after a sip of her own. "And I'm glad you got what you needed. That means you have all day tomorrow to help me de-clutter the second guestroom." She put her chin on her folded hands and batted her eyelashes.
Jane rolled her eyes, but she was smirking. "Well, gee. I just can't wait," she said.
"Your brothers and mother are helping, too. I told Angela that whatever we get rid of, she can sell in your yard sale at the house next weekend," Maura said more seriously.
They ordered and handed in their menus before Jane replied. "You don't have to do that, Maura."
"I know I don't, but I want to. I really have more things than I need, or even know what to do with. I can't pitch in with a sander or a sledgehammer, but I can pitch in this way."
Jane twitched her nose in affection for the woman across from her. "I get that. So, thank you. And I promise I will be there bright and early to help out with the sorting and the cleaning."
Maura nodded and licked her lips. Jane looked so dark in the soft light above them with her wavy black hair and serious eyes. "You play your cards right and you can wake up in my bed bright and early," said Maura.
"Hmm," Jane considered, trying not to show how badly she wanted to smile. A small, mischievous one appeared anyway. "If I play my cards right, huh?"
"Yes. You're off to a good start, I'll just say that," Maura sipped from her glass to steady herself. Luckily, not long after that, their dishes appeared.
They ate in comfortable communion for long minutes. "It's easy, actually. To play my cards right with you. We fit well together," said Jane after awhile, her mouth half-full of pasta.
Maura didn't even care a little bit; the words spilling out around that pasta were much more enticing than the manners being violated. "We do. We always have."
"Opposites attract, I guess," Jane offered. When Maura smirked at her, she coughed. "I didn't mean like that. We attract like that, too, but I more meant that… we're stuck in each other's orbit, you know? Not just because we work together and everything, but because we're more than the sum of our parts. Magic happens when we get together. Whether we're solvin' a murder or cleanin' out my parents' musty-ass garage."
Maura had to put her fork down because she feared that she would drop it, and that the ensuing clang would shatter the spell around them. The mixture of Jane's North End cadence and BCU vocabulary made her bite her lip, and she was talking about Maura's favorite subject: the two of them. "Magic happens when we fall into bed, too."
"Yeah, then too," Jane said. She smiled to herself when the sweet, deep voice of Dean Martin came over the restaurant speakers, slow and accompanied by a guitar. "But I'd take everything else over that if I had to. Because there was magic in everything else first. Always has been."
"What do you mean?" Maura asked. She crossed her legs and leaned in, as if Jane would say something so quietly that she would miss it.
Jane pressed her spine against the wooden back of the chair and sighed. "Up. Lemme try to explain," she ordered, suddenly standing and holding out her hand. Maura just stared at her, so she nodded her head to the clearing on the floor where a few other couples danced.
"What?" Maura asked again, glancing between Jane and where she wanted Maura to go.
"C'mon, Maura. It's Under the Bridges of Paris. Sung by an Italian guy," Jane pleaded, soft but assured, "it doesn't get more us than that."
It was logic that Maura could not resist. She took Jane's hand, and then she was taken into Jane's embrace. The smell of Jane's perfume, mixed with all the scents of the end of a long day, including sweat and coffee, weakened her knees and made her think of home. Not a place, really, but right where she was, and if asked to explain, she didn't think she could. Jane's hand rested on her back and the other one held her own in it against Jane's chest. It all muddled Maura's brain. "I can hear your heart beating," was all that came to mind. She said it against the skin of Jane's neck, where her head rested.
"Is it good?" Jane asked. She chuckled when she felt Maura doing so on her shoulder.
"Yes. Rhythmic and strong. A little fast," Maura answered.
"Not too shabby considering how close we are," Jane said.
"Do I make your heart race?" Maura looked up, trying her best to school her features when Jane looked back down at her.
"Unni cc'è focu, pri lu fumu pari," said Jane. "Where there's smoke there's fire. Or in this case, yeah. The tachycardia's the smoke."
Maura thrilled when Jane used the word she could have only learned from their time in the morgue together. She nearly fainted when an effortless little Sicilian proverb tumbled her way - it was Jane in a phrase: flame, Italy, culture boiled down to its essentials. "What's the fire?"
"You, I think," Jane said as she swayed them slowly to the beat. "But listen, I meant what I said. I'd take all the rest over what we do in bed any day, if that's what you wanted. If you wanted Tommy, I'd step aside for you. Because I know that you weren't looking for a relationship with me. So if that's what you're looking for with him, I'll take what I can get."
Maura nipped at the fabric of Jane's blazer to control herself. All those images she'd conjured up when Tommy asked her to be with him came back to her, but they were thrown into contrast with the new ones flooding her mind: she saw the fleeting enjoyment bleed away into hardship, into having to take care of him, having to hold him up when he didn't know how to hold himself. But then she heard Jane's tongue turn itself from English to Sicilian and back again with the flair she did most things in life. Jane opened doors for her, killed mobsters for her. Jane worked her job with passion and she made love to Maura the same. She lived and worked and loved for lifetimes, all in a moment. Everything about her screamed endurance, and standing on the dark wood floors of Pellino's with her, Maura knew exactly what she wanted from Jane: a life lived together as competently and as fully as she did everything else. Only now, Jane, in all that gallant passion, seemed to be giving it up before it started, even though she was holding Maura closer than they'd ever been before.
Maura held tight to her, too, as the song faded, unwilling to let the moment go. Unwilling to let the future go.
A/N: Two chapters left and I think Maura's starting to make her choice.