**DISCLAIMER – I do not own the characters, they belong to TNT and associated bodies. **
A/N: The song title is Where do you go to, my lovely by Peter Sarstedt.. Work is starting to get a little crazy in real life, and I have a lot coming up soon, so I think we may have about 4/5 more chapters left before the ending. I promise all the clues are in here and it won't be rushed :-)
FLIGHTLESS ANGEL.
Chapter 14 – Where do you go to, my lovely?
Maura cracked her neck from side to side, padding her way to her front door where a tall Detective stood waiting to be granted entrance.
"Jane", Maura sighed, smiling tiredly; opening the door. Jane had had a key to the house for at least two years now, but outside of invitations from her Mother, she had once told Maura that she preferred to wait to be allowed to come in. You could try and welcome Jane in every way you knew how, but Maura had long figured out that Jane was simply chivalrous. Polite to a fault, effortlessly considerate of Maura's privacy, protective to a level Maura had never experienced before. It made Jane, even more; well, Jane.
"Hey", the brunette husked, almost shyly as she ran a hand through her wild hair, her other hand, clutching a battered, thick case file to her chest.
They had barely laid eyes on one another all day, having left the crime scene and gone their separate, investigative ways. Both the women had enjoyed their pre-murder relaxation, had enjoyed the closeness they felt, had indulged in the intimacy. Neither knew quite how to navigate their blossoming relationship around working a case together. Jane had concluded that if Maura wanted to have one of her 'talks', she would attempt to participate. Maura had summized, that thus far; although the progress Jane was making in terms of 'them', was great, it was by far and away a case of baby steps. Things would happen in their own time.
Maura walked through the house into the kitchen, opening the fridge to retrieve a beer for her weary Detective, garnering a lop-sided smile in gratitude.
"You really do think of everything, don't you . . ." Jane teased, gratefully accepting the cold beverage and rewarding the Doctor with a soft kiss to the cheek; smiling as she turned in the direction of Maura's sofa.
Once both women were comfortably settled, Jane opened the file onto Maura's coffee table.
"I figure that you can read through this, and if you have any questions, just ask as you go along, or ask me when you're done," Jane said just above a whisper, looking at Maura with tired eyes.
Maura, as ever; read the psychological, at least; situation perfectly. As physically tired as Jane, undoubtedly was; emotionally, the brunette was exhausted. Maura knew little of the emotional aspect to the human condition, but she knew emptiness when she saw it. Jane was spent, emotionally and physically; she simply didn't have the heart to start dragging the past up, after a day of invariably replaying the past over and over, in that quick mind of hers.
Maura Isles was never one for tact, but for once, she let her instincts rule her logic, and finding herself also rather tired, she gently shifted Jane to the end of the couch, allowing the detective to lie down flat and stretch her legs the length of the furniture, before situating herself snuggly in between the limbs and lying down comfortably upon the brunette.
The Doctor picked up the file from the table, wrapped an already softly-dosing Jane's arm around her torso, before embarking on her reading.
Jane awoke to Maura whispering to her, gently stroking her tired face with her index finger and holding her own weight above the Detective on the couch.
"Jane, it's late. I've read everything and I can wait until the morning for any answers I need. But for now, we both need some proper rest, and we aren't going to get it here," Maura raised her eyebrow in her typical look of a disparagement.
"Lead the way, Ma'am", Jane smiled, still half asleep; as she allowed herself to be walked into Maura's bedroom. As she allowed herself to be changed into pyjamas. As she allowed herself to be held, lovingly; from behind, as she fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.
Maura woke with a start at just past 6am, to the sound of smashing in the kitchen and a muffled cry. Her hand automatically landed on the empty space of bed that Jane had so recently occupied, sending a course of adrenalin and fear pumping right through the M.E's heart. She left the bed, padded to her bedroom door and listened momentarily to the lone and wretched cry of the woman she had come to love, so deeply.
Bounding down the stairs, Maura ran into the kitchen to be greeted by a distraught Jane Rizzoli, slumped on the floor underneath the sink, holding a towel to a bleeding arm, the remnants Maura's favourite ceramic tea-pot strewn over the cold floor.
She shuffled her way along the floor, into a sitting position beside the brunette, taking the towel gently in her hands and applying a light pressure to the subsiding bleeding from the wound.
She wasn't sure how long they sat in that position, although it was long enough for Jane's sobs to lessen to a mere sniffle and the occasional hiccup, with a whispered "I'm sorry" every now and again. Maura had continuously rubbed soothing circles on the Detective's back, for her own sake as much as Jane's.
It wasn't the first time Maura had experienced this kind of thing with Jane. She had lost count of the amount of times Jane had accidentally smashed various items in the middle of the night, venturing off to do a good deed with the best of intentions, and being caught by a nightmare creeping up on her whilst still halfway in the throes of sleep.
Sometimes she would silently lift the covers of her best friend's bed, and crawl in; late into the night, sometimes early into the morning, when staying over in the guest room alone had proved too much, and the Detective had simply needed someone to make the nightmares stop. Jane would allow herself to be held in such instances, for hours on end, she would allow Maura to whisper encouragement and words of comfort, she would allow herself to be cared for in a way that would appear so alien to anyone who remotely knew Det. Jane Rizzoli. The significance was not lost on Maura. Jane trusted her, above all others, and Jane needed her. Now more than ever.
"Jane," Maura spoke for the first time since they had initially retired to bed for the night. "What is it, please talk to me?"
"I know," Jane began to sob again.
"You know what darling? Please don't shut me out, Jane. You know what?"
"I know it's my fault," Jane sobbed. "I should have fought more. I should have told them it was too easy."
Maura's face frowned in a deep confusion.
"What was too easy, Jane?" Maura took the towel off the brunette's arm and used it to brush away the broken ceramic from around them, as she shuffled on her knees directly in front of Jane, taking the crying face into her hands.
"The conviction, Maur. The conviction."
Maura finally started to understand what Jane was saying.
"When I was reading the case-file last night, I was perplexed as to how Peter Cranston was convicted so decidedly."
"He was convicted because the jury was swung by Matthew. 'The BCU Genius'", Jane accentuated her sarcasm by using her hands to indicate air commas. "Kid was making advances in science here in Mass. that the Feds were still taking time to comprehend in Washington. No one questioned his testimony. He brought in graphs and charts and pictures and plants, and just blind-sided us all. He said it all added up, and we believed him. Well, I didn't; but what good was a fresh faced cadet graduate versus the botanical Einstein? If he said the evidence pinpointed Cranston to all five scenes, who was I to argue? I never thought for a second he might have . . ."
Maura rested a hand on Jane's knee, curling a wild lock of hair behind the broken Detective's ear, with the other.
"He might have what, Jane?"
Jane breathed deeply in and out through her mouth, before looking to the ceiling and closing her eyes.
"I think Matthew's evidence was flawed. I think we convicted the wrong man. And he knew. Maur', he knew. He knows. But he said nothing. To close the book . . . and to keep his name, his reputation. Only, by doing that, he kept a monster on the streets, free to kill again."
Maura considered her next words. Jane was beyond uptight, fragile, angry, confused and a thousand other emotions rolled into one. She could either placate the other woman, or she could be honest.
"Jane, I would like to go over the evidence again. I won't disagree that it does appear, from the nature of the two deaths, that the same killer is at work. However, from the files . . . Matthew's evidence does merit attention. As a scientist, I simply cannot ignore a situation where science is conducive to establishing a pattern. Therefore I find myself in a quandary, that I can only seek answers to, by investigating the previous cases. By investigating them fully."
Jane's eyes shone.
"You want to reopen the case."
Maura touched Jane's face gently, her eyes roaming over the stress lines, before finally settling on the brown eyes looking deep into her own.
"Maur'," Jane took the blonde's hands in her own, squeezing gently. "Maura, don't let Matthew in too far."
Maura's eyes narrowed at the vague warning.
"There are so many things unanswered here. I don't want you being brought down with him."
Maura looked at Jane sceptically, knowing she wasn't getting the whole truth from the brunette. Instead of confronting the issue, she decided to let it rest; for now.
"I suspect that reopening the case is the only thing that will bring you some kind of peace. So, yes. Once I make a preliminary observation of the original evidence this morning, I believe that it would be entirely logical, with events of the past few days in consideration, to recommend to the District Attorney that we reopen the case fully, for a complete re-examination."
Jane nodded, knowingly. It was time to pay Peter Cranston a visit.