As she felt the first drops of rain, Maura wondered if walking had been a bad idea. It was only 15 minutes, but her umbrella was still hanging on the hook in her office. Not that Jane would judge. Jane never brought an umbrella.
BREAK
"Maybe I like getting wet."
"But you're talking about getting me wet," Maura protested.
Jane raised an eyebrow. Maura blushed.
"I was talking about the rain."
The flick of Jane's eyes made it clear her mind was definitely not on the weather.
"Stop it, we're meant to be going out."
"It's raining." Jane took a step into the apartment.
"We're meeting my mother."
"Curb your enthusiasm, please." Jane's voice dripped with legitimate sarcasm.
"She hates to be kept waiting."
Jane raked her eyes over Maura's dress. "So do I."
"Jane." A warning. They had to go.
"Fine."
"And we're taking an umbrella."
"Fine, for the ten steps to your car, and the five into the restaurant, we will take an umbrella. I'll even hold it over you like you're a celebrity if you like."
"Please don't."
"Yeah, I'll jump out, run around the car, and hold it over you while I open the door so not a single drop falls on your perfect hair."
Maura self-consciously adjusted her updo. Again. "I really look okay?"
Jane kissed her on the cheek. "You look like a million bucks. Honest."
Maura leaned into her. "I could tell her I'm sick."
"You'd get hives from lying."
Maura sighed, pulled on her jacket, reapplied her lipstick one last time, and led the way down to her car. She kicked off her heels to drive and Jane reached down to take them out of the way, taking advantage of the opportunity to run her hand up Maura's leg.
"Pantyhose, really? How closely is she going to be examining your legs?"
"She'd know from across the room."
Jane looked down at her own bare legs. "Then I'm screwed."
"I have a spare pair in my purse."
"You should've been in the scouts."
"Because I have spare pantyhose?"
"Because you're always prepared," Jane said as she wriggled into the pantyhose. "Honestly, though, what is the function of these?"
"Bare legs are vulgar."
"But they're leg coloured."
Maura shrugged. "Ask my mother."
They were nearly at the restaurant, close to the water in downtown Boston. Maura slowed her Prius to a crawl.
"Don't… Don't think differently of me, after you meet her." Maura looked almost desperate.
Jane put a hand on her knee. "Did you think differently of me after meeting my family?"
"Your family are wonderful."
"You really think so? Even Tommy?"
"Jane, I'm serious. She's… She can be… Challenging."
"Maur, I promise, this doesn't change anything."
"Jane, she… I haven't told her we're together."
Jane paused. She hadn't asked, directly, and she'd had her suspicions, but it still stung a little. She and Maura had been in a relationship for more than a year.
"Does she know you're attracted to women?"
Maura bit her lip. "Yes. But she… There was an incident."
They were outside the restaurant now, and the valet was approaching.
"Okay," Jane said, giving Maura's hand a squeeze. "I'll go along with whatever you say, tonight. But we need to finish this conversation."
Maura nodded. "Thank you," she mouthed as Jane got out of the car.
Constance was already seated, and as soon as they arrived, began ordering wine.
"I'll just have water, Mother. I'm driving," Maura said, after the obligatory air kisses.
"Why? Surely you could have found a cab."
Maura had no answer to this.
"I'd love some wine." Jane smiled winningly. Constance turned to her. "Pleasure to meet you, Ms Isles. Jane Rizzoli."
"Yes, Maura has mentioned you. She said you work for law enforcement?"
"That's right, I'm a police officer."
"Hm." And with that, it seemed, Jane's part in the conversation was finished.
Constance quizzed Maura on her studies, her grades, her plans for her course selections for the following year. When these topics were exhausted, she moved on to Maura's apartment, and the current dispute - Maura's insistence that she didn't need a maid.
"I know the perfect woman, she would come twice a week, deep clean, do laundry. She would be invaluable."
"I can do my own laundry, Mother."
"Your time would be far better spent on your studies. I know how busy you are, I don't understand why you won't let me help you with this."
They had just received their main course. Jane attacked her artistically arranged meal with a steak knife, having decided to occupy her mouth with eating so she wouldn't jump in and make things worse.
"I like supporting myself." Maura tried to keep her growing frustration out of her tone. "And cleaning helps me focus."
"What do you think, Jane?" Constance asked suddenly.
Jane chewed as slowly as she could, taking the time to think. She swallowed.
"Maura's place is always spotless," she said. "And her grades are pretty much perfect, so whatever she's doing, it seems to be working."
"Pretty much, is by definition, not perfect. There is always room for improvement."
"I mean, maybe, but what about cognitive overload?"
"Excuse me?"
"I said, what about cognitive overload?"
"I heard you. What do you mean by it?"
"Well, we all know Maura's a genius. She plans everything she studies so she remembers it all, and there's an argument that if she studied more, she'd actually overload her brain and wouldn't learn so much. Also, I haven't seen all her papers, but I know of several occasions where the only marks Maura dropped were because her professors were using out of date research."
Constance looked between Jane and Maura, until her gaze finally settled on her daughter.
"Well? Is this what you think, too?"
"I do take cognitive overload into account when planning my study schedule." Maura spoke in barely more than a whisper.
Constance tutted, gave Jane one last disapproving glare, then turned her attention to her food. When she was sure Constance was occupied, Jane gave Maura a cheerful wink.
The remainder of the meal passed fairly peacefully. Constance talked about her latest project, an installation in New York. She refused dessert on everyone's behalf, paid, and told Maura, somewhat stiffly, that she was proud of her attention to detail in her medical research, before leaving for her hotel.
"Well?" Maura asked nervously as they waited for the car.
"I think she's wonderful." Jane tried and failed to keep a straight face.
"Shut up."
"Excuse me?" The imitation was uncanny.
"I said, shut up." They got into the car.
"God, I can't wait to take these fucking things off," Jane said, tugging at the pantyhose.
"It's worse in summer."
"What is it with rich people and being uncomfortable on purpose?"
"Punishing themselves?" Maura sighed. "I just wish…" She trailed off, a little mournfully.
"What do you wish?" Jane asked.
"I wish I could impress her."
They sat in silence for a while, moving through the evening traffic. Jane reached for the radio, and grinned at the song that was playing.
"When I see your face, there's not a thing that I would change, 'cause you're amazing, just the way you are," she sang, off key, but beautifully nonetheless.
Maura smiled in spite of herself.
"Oh, hey, hey, it's your jam!" Jane elbowed Maura as the next song came on.
"I'm not in the mood," Maura complained.
"Come on, you're so good," Jane pleaded, turning up the volume.
"This was not what my mother had in mind when she hired a specialist French tutor," Maura muttered, but she knew she was going to do it.
Jane cranked up the French Hip Hop, and Maura sang her heart out.
"So tell me again what it means?" Jane asked when the song was over.
"Basically, everything sucks, so we dance."
"And there's a bit about music taking your guts, right?"
"Yeah, I guess a better translation would be holding, or gripping. It grips your guts, it grips your head."
"Well, if medicine doesn't work out, you could be a tortured French rapper instead."
"Except I'm not tortured, or French, or a rapper."
They were back at Maura's apartment.
"I could torture you," Jane suggested helpfully.
"Alors on danse," Maura murmured, Jane's lips already approaching hers as she stepped out of the car.
BREAK
"Hey, Maur, you look miles away."
"I was thinking about a song." It wasn't a lie. It had started with a song, at least.
"Oh yeah? A good one?"
"We used to like it."
"Shall I guess it?" Jane offered as they walked inside.
"If you like."
"Okay, give me the year."
Maura counted mentally. "2010."
"Ooh, good year. For us, I mean. Musically, not so much. Lots of Bruno Mars, but you don't have a Bruno look on your face…"
"It's not Bruno Mars," Maura confirmed. They were in the elevator now.
"One more clue?"
"You used to make me sing it in the car."
"Oh, Alors on Danse! Man, I'd totally forgotten. I still think you could be a French pop star."
"And I still think that's ridiculous." Maura stepped into the hallway.
"See, you have the attitude and everything!"
"Just don't buy me another beret."
"The beret…" Jane drifted off into a fond memory.
"I gave it to goodwill."
"You lie. You loved that beret. I bet you even brought it to London." Jane looked at Maura's chest.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for hives. Ha!"
Maura cursed inwardly. "Fine, I didn't give it to goodwill."
"You have it here, don't you? And you wear it. With a swanky black jacket and boots."
Maura took the scrubs she'd brought with her out of her bag.
"Yes," she said grudgingly. "But only because it looks fantastic."
Jane grinned. "That I agree with."
"My mother liked it," Maura recalled. "She took me to Paris a couple of years ago. I wore it out one evening and she said something like I made a stereotype look sleek and sophisticated."
"No shit? I knew I'd impress her one day. Did you tell her I bought it for you?"
"No. But I should have. Next time I see her, I'll tell her."
"You should tell her now. Text her. Make it totally out of context, see if she remembers who I am."
BREAK
"So, this incident," Jane said, remembering only as they entered the apartment.
Maura, reluctantly, broke away from Jane's embrace.
"It was the last summer before college," she explained. "We were in the Hamptons. She and my father were both working, in and out of the house, and I couldn't wait for it to be over, couldn't wait to start college, finally start my own life."
She sat down on the couch, kicked off her shoes, and closed her eyes, remembering.
"I met her on the beach. She had a guitar, and she played out to sea. She saw me watching, watched me back… She came up to the house. We hardly talked. I just needed… Anyway, my mother returned unexpectedly and found us, in my room. She didn't say anything, just opened the door, stood there, then closed it again. I tried to talk to her about it, once, but she just held up her hand, like this, and said, Maura, I do not need to hear anything about it, and I do not expect to hear about anything like it, ever again."
Jane let this sink in, then sat next to Maura. "Shit. I mean, my Ma had an absolute cow, but it was more about catching me with a cigarette, honestly."
"You smoked?" Maura was horrified.
"Jeez, you're as bad as her. I was fifteen, I had a couple of cigarettes, like every other teenager on the planet."
"Not me."
"Yeah, well, we've already established you aren't from this planet-" Jane was interrupted by the pillow which Maura threw at her face.
"But, seriously, I'm sorry about your Mom," Jane said once she'd removed the pillow. "That sounds awful. And I really don't mind you not telling her."
"I will tell her, one day. But you mean too much… I can't stand the idea of her judging us, judging you."
Jane put her arm around Maura. "She can think what she likes. It's not going to change anything. Right?"
Maura looked up at her. "No one could change the way I feel about you."
BREAK
Notes:
On a roll, should be asleep, haven't proofread a single word of this chapter so enjoyyy!