The gravel crunches under the weight of the tires as the Peugeot comes to a stop. As a compact French sedan, the Peugeot 508 was the perfect mix of sleekness and efficiency. The French brand name allowed the car to fit in amongst the others within the country, while the 7.3 second zero-to-62 mph time, also known as zero-to-99 kilometers per hour according to the French, provided Marie and Brandon with the speed they would inevitably need to keep up with the Isles family's state-of-the-art automobiles. They had finally found the Isles estate, a chateau located in the rolling hills amongst the countryside. Marie had stopped the car right outside of the massive black gate, which was lined with ivy and had an insignia displaying the Isles family name. Pressing the little silver button, Marie waits as the intercom sparks to life.
"Isles residence. May I help you?"
Marie clears her throat, raising her voice a few octaves to seem more trustworthy. "Bonjour. I am looking for Madame Isles, I have business with her regarding one of the art pieces that I have lent to her for an installation."
On the other end, the butler, Elias, was checking the list of approved visitors that Constance Isles had left him. "My sincerest apologies, as Madame Isles is currently located at a different residence right now. She will have to take a message."
Pulling a piece of paper with different addresses on it, Marie crosses out the third bullet point, leaving two options left. "No worries. Tell me, is she currently at the seaside residence or the one near the Louvre? If it is the one near the Louvre, it will be convenient for me to go find her in person."
Elis seems to hesitate, but finds no significant reason against revealing the location of Constance. After all, she was a public figure within the community and her whereabouts were usually a well-known fact anyway. "Near the Louvre, madame."
Marie leans back into her seat, letting the seatbelt return back to its original position against her chest. "Very well. Thank you." Pleased that the butler had saved them from making an extra trip, she hums appreciatively.
She looks back at Brandon, who has been listening to the exchange with interest. As he looks up the address of Constance Isle's other home, he references the map on his other hand to decide how to best navigate. Marie looks expectantly at him and he begins guiding her, telling her to turn around and follow this road to the end before making a left. This residence was two hours away, leading them from the outskirts of the French countryside to the heart of the city. As the two go over their plan again, they prepare for each and every outcome that may result from having to kidnap Maura Isles, the heir to the Isles fortune, and her best friend, Jane Rizzoli. Halfway through their trip, Marie's phone rings as caller ID announces the person on the other end of the phone.
"Sergeant Major Jones, good afternoon."
Brandon only manages to catch half of the conversation, and since Marie only grunts and says "Yes, sir" every other sentence, he has no idea what the call was regarding. When she hangs up, he casts a sideways glance at her.
"What was that about?"
Marie keeps her eyes on the road, gripping the steering wheel with her left hand as her other hand laid on the stick shift. Her feet alternate efficiently between the clutch pedal and the accelerator, and she maneuvers the car with ease, making Brandon forget that the car was a manual. Her jaw clenches, the muscles rippling through the side of her chiseled face as she thinks about the call.
"Nothing. Just work. Where do I go after the turn?"
As Brandon continues routing her, he decides to leave things alone. They had been partnered up for one reason only and it was best to focus on the mission without delving too deep into each other's professional or personal lives. It would make it easier to move on after their work was done and this was a normal part of their profession. Get dispatched, take out any threats, accomplish the mission, await orders, and repeat. The less he knew about Marie Davis, the better.
Jane whistles, admiring the stained glass on the west side of the Notre Dame. As the sun shone through, it made the individual pieces glow as if they were a part of a complicated kaleidoscope. Scenes from the era of Christ were displayed prominently throughout the cathedral and with its daunting height, the inside of the Notre Dame was awe-inspiring, to say the least. As Maura talked about the history of the monument, from being built in the Middle Ages to its role in the French Revolution, Jane began to understand why Maura held such a fascination with gothic architecture. She also found herself chuckling as Maura disclosed factoid after factoid, the pitch of her voice revealing her elation at finally being able to see the masterpiece with her own eyes. From what Jane had understood, although Maura had attended boarding school in Paris, her free time was tightly controlled to only allow music, art, and etiquette classes. If she were lucky, there would be a day reserved for fencing lessons. Otherwise, Maura was expected to stay inside of the Isles residence with her head buried in a textbook or some other piece of literature. Thus, she had missed out on seeing many of the famous landmarks, which she didn't mind as it meant she could experience them for the first time with Jane.
"So, what do you think?" Maura asked with her eyes full of excitement as she looks at Jane, analyzing her facial expressions to gauge the woman's reaction.
The two women are exiting the cathedral and Jane squints, her eyes adjusting from the darkness inside to the bright sun being reflected on the street.
"It was really cool, Maur. I totally understand the whole obsession now," Jane says, her eyes searching for a nearby restaurant.
Maura searches Jane's face for a hint of sarcasm and upon finding none, her face breaks out in a smile. "I know! Wait until you see Arc de Triomphe! There's a great story behind that one."
Jane smiles back at Maura, wanting to indulge the other woman's eagerness. "Can't wait, but for now, can we get something to eat? All that walking is making me hungry."
Maura nods, pulling out her map. With the map unfolded, most of Maura's body is covered. Jane laughs, pushing at the map playfully as she teases Maura. "Is that really necessary? As if every part of us doesn't already scream tourist."
Lowering the map, Maura gazes over it at Jane. "What? I don't want to get lost and we should find the most efficient route there since you're already hungry. I can tell that you're 10 minutes away from being 'hangery'."
"It's hangry, Maura. Hangry plus angry. Hangry," Jane says, laughing even harder when she sees Maura pull out a notebook and write a reminder to herself about the correct use of the word. "Did you find anything yet?"
Maura points, trailing her finger along a road before stabbing the middle of the map. "There's one nearby that sells excellent soupe de Poissons, it's exquisite."
Jane makes a face. "Why would I want to drink a soup made of poison?"
Maura folds the map back up, using it to smack Jane in the arm. "Poisson, Jane. It's fish soup. The fish comes from the port of Marseille, next to the Mediterranean sea. It has saffron mayonnaise and herbs, making it the perfect winter meal."
"Ew. Fish soup? That's worse. How about something with cheese in it?" Jane offers.
Pondering, Maura perks up as she remembers another restaurant. "If you can stand walking ten minutes, there's a place that sells goat cheese salad."
Jane stops walking, turning to look at Maura with an incredulous look on her face. "Maura, when in the last eight years have you ever seen me eat goat cheese?"
Maura's brows drew together in concentration as she thinks. She can't recall a single instance and in fact, she has never seen Jane eat any type of cheese other than that unnaturally yellow, concoction of chemicals known as American cheese or the occasional parmesan sprinkled on top of her mother's lasagna. "I'm not letting you eat burgers and french fries when we have some of the finest dining experiences in the world at our disposal, Jane."
"French fries are french," Jane says, pouting her lips.
"Actually, evidence suggests that they are from Belgium, where villagers who typically relied on fish had to turn to potatoes in the wintertime when the river froze over," Maura says. She is about to continue on her history lesson but decides to stop when she sees Jane's shoulders drooping as she drags herself along.
"Yeah, yeah, and hell is going to freeze over before I drink any of that fishy stuff. What about a sandwich?"
Maura decides that it wouldn't be a bad compromise, as long as there were leafy greens inside of them. "Fine, a panini it is."
As a show of appreciation, Jane gives Maura a kiss on the cheek, which makes her blush as she thinks about the tension that has been between them lately. Despite her worries about Olivia, the video, and everything else, she had to admit that it was a nice escape to be able to walk around the city for a while with Jane by her side.
She could get used to this.
As they finished up their lunch, Maura was grateful that they had been able to have a relaxing meal as they discussed what else they would like to see today. Frankie had called Jane, telling her that Maura's security system was adequate but stated that he would be visiting a few stores to "beef it up a bit". He had been taking computer science classes for some time, which meant he could handle most of the setup required to improve the Isles residence's cameras. If things got too complicated, Frost was always a phone call away. With Frankie busy, Maura and Jane had the rest of the afternoon to themselves.
"The Shakespeare and Company Bookstore is next on my list, but we can make amendments if you would prefer to do something else," Maura says. Her voice jostles Jane from her thoughts, as she had been brainstorming other ways to protect Maura's safety in addition to the security system.
"Hm?" Jane asks.
Maura rubs her hand on the polyester material of Jane's windbreaker. "We can always ask Frankie if it's okay to head home early if you're not up to sightseeing," she says.
"No, no, I'm fine. I guess I'm just a bit distracted," Jane pushes herself up from the chair, reaching a hand out for Maura. "Let's go read some books!"
Jane was exhausted between adjusting to the time difference and being on constant vigilance, but she knew that her time with Maura was limited and she wanted to refrain from being a downer. There would surely be a café nearby where she could refuel on some strong coffee, which would keep her spirits up until dinner, at least.
When they get to the bookstore, there was a line out the door. Jane took advantage of this time by searching for some caffeine while Maura went over the list she had written. There were several books that she wanted to find, ones that had proven to be difficult to find within her local bookstores at home. Before long, Jane returns to her side with two, piping hot beverages. She hands one to Maura, who smiles in appreciation. The cup warms her fingers, which have been exposed to the cold for far too long as she flipped through her list. Jane's cup holds less liquid than usual, almost comically small as it sits wrapped up in Jane's lengthy fingers.
"Did you know that a macchiato is only a shot of espresso?" Jane asks as she examines the tiny cup.
Maura chuckles as she realizes Jane's mistake. "You thought that a macchiato would be the full-sized drink that it usually is at Boston Joe's or Starbucks, didn't you?"
Jane frowns. "Yeah. I thought that they had handed me the wrong drink. I told the barista and she informed me that this was indeed a macchiato, so I just looked like an idiot."
Extending her own drink to Jane, Maura offers a warm smile. "You can have some of mine."
"Yours doesn't even qualify as coffee, Maura. When I ordered your drink, you would have thought that I was casting a spell with how complicated it was," Jane says, nudging her shoulder against Maura's.
Maura looks at her single, ristretto, blonde espresso, nonfat, steamed, upside-down latte. She shrugs, taking a sip and enjoying the taste. "Your loss. It's delicious."
As Jane watches Maura with amusement, she can't help but notice the blush that the cold air has made on Maura's cheeks. Before she begins to fantasize about things that would make sleeping next to Maura difficult, she decides to change the subject.
"Think they got comic books here?"
When Maura responds with horror on her face, Jane laughs. She always enjoyed teasing the other woman. "Relax, Maur. I'll make sure I steer clear of the children's section."
The line moves forward and soon they are inside, with Maura looking around in wonder as she loses herself in the possibilities. Before long, she has immersed herself in a book. Jane strolls around the store, having been entrusted with finding the books on Maura's list to keep her entertained. She didn't mind, since it would allow her to flex some of her detective muscles. Getting familiar with the bookstore's categorizing system took some time, but she managed to gather up most of the books without much difficulty. She sat on the edge of a window sill, flipping open the one at the top of the stack. As she read, Jane feels a flush rising from her core as she realizes that she is reading a set of poems written by a woman to another woman. Snapping the book closed, she goes off in search of Maura.
"Here. I found them," Jane says, shoving the stack in Maura's direction.
Maura looks quizically at Jane as she double-checks the titles. Realizing the source of Jane's embarrassment, she holds up the book of interest. "Does my interest in transcendentalism bother you, Jane?"
Jane shifts her eyes from the book, deciding to focus on the cracks in the wooden floor instead. "No," she says, almost too quickly.
"Ah. It must be the unconventional themes, yes?"
"I just didn't expect to open a book and read about her finding comfort in another woman's bosom, I guess. It's not a big deal. I just expected all of these books to be boring and have old English that I wouldn't understand."
In the chaos of the two women coming to terms with their feelings for each other, Maura had forgotten that Jane was not as comfortable with her sexuality as Maura was. However, she had known about her attraction to women for years and had spent the better half of her early adulthood exploring it. Jane, on the other hand, had never been with a woman before. Without experimentation or extended amounts of time to process her feelings, it was no wonder that Jane was still uncomfortable with the idea of queerness.
As Maura pays for her purchases, she thinks about how to discuss this matter with Jane delicately. As they stroll along the streets, Jane beats her to it.
"I think I'm gay."
Jane's words are rushed, similar to how she used to proclaim her confessions when Angela forced her to participate in the Catholic tradition. Maura takes her time to think and the silence seems to make Jane even more nervous.
"What makes you think that?" Maura finally asks.
Looking around them, Jane drops her voice lower. "I don't really know. I've always had my suspicions but I always excused them by thinking that I was just with the wrong guy. My high school boyfriends were too immature, Dean was too untrustworthy, and Casey was too clingy." Jane fidgets with the zipper on her jacket, running her fingernails along the plastic.
Maura acknowledges Jane with a murmur, not wanting to take over the conversation as she sensed there was more.
"I've always had those rumors around me about being gay, especially since I hated wearing dresses as a kid. When I played field hockey in junior college, those rumors got worse. I think I forced myself to be even more girly than I felt comfortable with being because of that."
Surprised that Jane is offering this information without any digging on Maura's part, she nods.
"I can understand the whole wanting to hide who you are thing because of how others around you can make you feel ashamed for it."
Jane remembers Maura's upbringing and her struggle to fit in. "Yeah, exactly. I mean how did you realize that you liked women?"
As she thinks about the question, Maura brings herself back to her young adolescence, when she was still pre-pubescent and a vessel for conflicting hormones. "It's always been a part of me. I always had crushes on other girls and then when I realized that it wasn't really a 'normal' thing to have, I decided to suppress it. When I graduated high school, it became something that I could no longer ignore. It cost me a great deal of frustration before I admitted to myself that this attraction was more than simple admiration."
Jane crosses her arms, covering herself from both the wind that had been blowing unforgivingly across their bodies and from the idea that she would have to be honest with herself.
"I thought maybe I could convince myself to like a man long enough to settle down, get married, and have those kids that Ma is always on about. But sometimes, when I think about that, I freeze up in a panic, because I don't know if I can do it."
Maura slows her stride down, wanting to focus on the conversation at hand. "Does that happen when you think about spending the rest of your life with a woman?"
Jane stares at Maura, chewing on her lip as she thinks about how to answer. "Well, yeah, but a different type of panic. Panic that it'll change my entire life and how others see me, but also panic that it won't work out. I've never really thought about marrying a woman or anything like that, at least not when I was growing up." What she didn't say, however, was how meeting Maura had changed that. After she had slowly begun to fall in love with the other woman, spending the rest of her life with a woman, with Maura, had become something easy to envision. A life with Maura just felt right.
"Does knowing that your mother would be accepting of you help in any way?" Maura asks, referencing the supportive reaction that had come from Angela when the two women had first kissed.
"In a way, yeah. But it was never much concern. I know she would love me regardless. I think the hardest part is just recognizing it myself and being okay with it. I've tried to run away from it for so long." Jane finishes her coffee, interrupting their conversation to toss her cup in a nearby bin. She thinks about how she had spent equally as long in running from her feelings for Maura. Having feelings for women was one thing, but having feelings that may ruin her friendship with one of the most important people in her life was another.
"And how is that going?" Maura asks, re-wrapping the scarf around her neck for additional warmth. The clouds were moving in, indicating that a storm may be heading their way soon.
"Fine," Jane mutters. She had to actively fight the impulse to shut down and push down her emotions, but she knew that she needed to get it together if she wanted to figure things out with Maura. "I'm working on it."
Maura pulls her in for a side hug, feeling glad that Jane had finally confronted some things that had clearly been bothering her. "It's a process, Jane. You have time."
"Yeah, I guess I do." Jane says as she thinks about her remaining time in Paris.
By the time she was set to leave, Jane wanted to have a clear plan for moving forward regarding her relationship with Maura.