Jane's affectionate when she's drunk. Well, she's always affectionate, but she's unreserved in her esteem of Maura after a few beers. She says all the things Maura longs to hear from her; how pretty she is, how nice her butt looks in her favourite dress, how smart she is, how impressed Jane is that she figured something complex out. How kind she is, how much Jane appreciates Maura setting up scholarships for disadvantaged children, doing charity work at mend. How strong she is, how much Jane admires Maura overcoming all of her family secrets and lies. And while she's saying all this, she has her hand tangled in Maura's hair, or resting on the back of Maura's neck in their booth at The Dirty Robber, or at Maura's house she'll pull Maura back against her on the couch to hold her, to play with Maura's fingers, Angela chuckling indulgently and excusing herself, or at Jane's condo Jane will throw herself across Maura's lap and whine until Maura starts rubbing Jane's back.
It's a lot. Maura hadn't been used to physical affection before Jane, and this is amplified. With anyone else it would be uncomfortable, but with Jane it's nice. Partially it's nice because she knows Jane means what she's saying, partially it's nice because Maura is a sponge for affection, but most of it is because it's Jane saying and doing all these nice things to her.
Right now Jane is sprawled across Maura's lap, and she rolls over to look up at Maura. Maura watches as Jane's hands come up to her face, brush across Maura's cheek and slip down to her mouth, fingers running over Maura's lips, a look of wonder on her face. Maura adjusts her hand down; she'd been absently rubbing the area between Jane's shoulder blades and now her hand was nestled between Jane's breasts; a nice place to be, but Jane had drunk at least three beers in the last five hours and Maura didn't want to be taking advantage of her best friend.
"Why're you so pretty?" Jane asks finally, pulling her hands away. Maura sighs and removes her hand from Jane's ribs, urging Jane to her feet for a shower. Maura showers too, once Jane is done, and when she opens the bathroom door, Jane is directly behind it, startling Maura a little. Jane's hand lifts back up to Maura's mouth.
"How're you so good to me?" Jane asks as Maura ushers her to the bedroom, pulling back the covers for her. Jane hasn't managed to pull on her socks, and Maura digs through the drawers to find two that are at least the same colour. She slides them on Jane's feet, rubs them through the socks for a minute, listening to Jane's moan of appreciation with some satisfaction. She pulls the blankets over Jane and gets in on the far side of the bed. Jane isn't drunk enough that Maura is worried about leaving her alone, but Jane never seems to mind when Maura stays over, and she'd had a glass of wine too. It was safer to stay, it was late, and affectionate, buzzed Jane always holds Maura the way sober Jane doesn't when Maura does stay over.
Jane hums and finds Maura in the bed like a piranha finds blood in the water. Like a heat seeking missile, and Maura melts as Jane wraps her arms around her. Jane is always affectionate with Maura, but this is the icing on the cake, these are the moments Maura lives for. She stays awake as long as she can, finally feeling safe and warm and loved, the way she'd never felt before Jane. And when she sleeps, she doesn't dream of dead bodies with her family's faces. She dreams of being on a beach with Jane, of hiking through the woods with Jane, of cruising through a glacier with Jane, of getting married with Jane. To Jane.
Jane wakes early, feeling dehydrated but well-rested. She squeezes the body in her arms, already knowing who it is. Maura won't wake for a while, which gives her time to examine her in the glow of the streetlights hazily shining through the thin curtains. Even sleeping, even without makeup, even after a long week like the one they'd just had, Maura is gorgeous. She pulls away a little as Maura stirs, scared her gaze has woken her, but Maura reaches out for Jane and holds her close. When Maura blinks her eyes awake, Jane is still there, still close.
"Why do I love you so much?" Jane whispers, her heart in her hands. Maura smiles bemusedly, as though the answer is obvious, but instead she does what Jane never does, what Jane will never do and she kisses her best friend softly, heedless of morning breath on either side.
"Because I love you more," Maura says.
"Impossible," Jane says, lips tingling with the improbability of that kiss.
Jane's affectionate when she's drunk, but no more so than usual, anymore.
