Disclaimer: I don't own Rizzoli and Isles.
Jane knew very well that she wasn't good at relationships. She had very few close friends, and most of her boyfriends lasted no longer than a few weeks—at most a couple of months. When people (meaning her mother) asked her why, she always gave the same answer—that her job was more important to her than anything else. After all, she had worked incredibly hard to become a homicide detective, and everyone knew it was a job that often required round-the-clock attention. Who could blame her if she couldn't find time for a boyfriend?
She knew this answer wasn't entirely truthful, however; it wasn't that she didn't want relationships or wasn't willing to commit to them, it was just that she had never really found anyone that she connected with. Men hit on her all the time, and if she thought she might be interested she flirted back, but casual interest rarely led to anything deeper. Something always seemed off in her relationships, and since Jane couldn't abide the thought of wasting time on anything that wasn't good and right and worthwhile, she brushed off most romantic advances and concentrated on her job and her family.
And, as her mother reminded her often, her stubbornness, her refusal to compromise, and the fact that she was generally unwilling to "put herself out there" didn't help matters. By the time she reached her mid-thirties, she was beginning to think that she really would spend her life alone.
Then she met Maura. She would never say it was love at first sight, since the idea of falling in love with a woman had never crossed her mind, but the connection she felt with the new chief medical examiner was nearly instantaneous.
Maura Isles was the definition of good and right and worthwhile, so Jane pursued a friendship with her without giving it a second thought. The two women grew closer and closer as the months passed and pretty soon Jane had a hard time imagining life without her doctor friend.
The physical attraction came much later than the friendship, however. One evening Jane sought refuge from a particularly personal case plus relentless nagging from her mother by knocking on Maura's door and asking if she could stay the night in the guest room. Sensing Jane's emotional and physical exhaustion, Maura climbed into bed with her friend hoping that she could be of some comfort.
As Maura settled next to her, still fully clothed but close enough to reach out and touch her arm, Jane had jokingly asked her friend, "Are we having a sleepover, or is this your way of telling me you're attracted to me?"
Both women had laughed and the conversation turned toward more serious topics, but later that night after Maura had fallen asleep next to her Jane thought a lot about the off-the-cuff comment she had made. She realized that perhaps there was something more than friendship going on between the two of them. She enjoyed being physically close to Maura as well as emotionally close—she liked knowing that Maura was near enough to touch. At that moment she imagined for the first time what it might be like to kiss Maura, to taste her lips, to run her fingers through her hair and stroke the soft skin at the small of her back—and she felt her body tingle and her heart race at the thought.
When her imagination got her as far as sucking and teasing a pink nipple while Maura moaned beneath her, she knew there could definitely be something more to this relationship.
She was attracted to Maura and she wanted Maura to be attracted to her. She wished that instead of giggling when Jane had joked about their sleepover, Maura had leaned over and kissed her.
Jane had never been the one to make the first move in any of her previous relationships, and with the added complication of the fact that the object of her affections was not only her best friend but also a woman, Jane had no idea what to do.
She was exceptionally good at observing human behavior, however, so she began to look for signs that Maura might be open to a physical relationship. When they went undercover at a lesbian bar, she was fairly certain Maura had been flirting with her. Working as a waitress in a tight uniform that exposed enough cleavage to make Jane weak in the knees, Maura had practically dared Jane to make a move. And she had even asked Jane what type of women she thought they would like if they liked women. Maura had flat out told Jane that women thought she was hot—if there was ever a hint, wasn't that it? If she had just bantered back and asked if Maura was one of those women, would they have fallen into bed with each other that night?
But Jane hadn't taken the bait, out of fear of ruining their friendship. And when things over the next several months had suddenly gotten horribly busy and complicated, Jane kicked herself time and time again for not making her move that night.
A serial killer that Jane had caught and jailed sent an apprentice out after her, and both she and her brother had been taken hostage and nearly killed.
Maura discovered that her biological father was an infamous mob boss, and she had to live with the guilt of knowing that this man, who Jane called the 'sperm donor,' had killed for her, just to keep her safe.
Jane had to shoot herself in the abdomen to end a hostage situation orchestrated by a dirty cop and then spent two weeks in the hospital and nearly two months on leave from her job.
It had all been too much—one exhausting case after another, one sleepless night after another. Jane had barely had time to think about anything other than surviving from day to day, and her daydreams of becoming Maura Isles' lover went onto the backburner.
But when things finally calmed down, she found that her love for Maura had grown even deeper. Maura had stuck with her through everything, and they seemed to understand each other even more than they had before.
So when Jane began tickling Maura's arm that night on the couch and saw the unmistakable signs of Maura's arousal, she knew she couldn't let another opportunity pass by. Jane could read Maura's emotions extremely well, and by the time Jane started kissing her way up her arm every muscle in Maura's body, every shallow breath she took, every inch of gooseflesh that appeared, seemed to tell Jane that she would be crazy not to just take her right then and there.
When Maura kissed her, she thought her heart might explode.
And when Maura straddled her hips begging to be fucked, she almost came herself. The two of them hadn't even removed any clothing but the throbbing between her legs was stronger than she ever could have imagined. She had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted Maura.
Giving her best friend that orgasm had been one of the most exciting sexual experiences of her life.
Then she had had five minutes of pure bliss—five minutes of cradling Maura in her lap and realizing that it was finally happening. Five minutes of believing that it was only the first of many orgasms that the two women would share together. Five minutes of feeling a love so profound that she wanted to scream and cry and laugh all at the same time.
But it was only five minutes.
She knew that kissing Maura had been risky, but she never in her life imagined that the end result would be a sense of fear and loss so overwhelming that she spent half the night sobbing on her couch, incapable of thinking about anything but the disgust in Maura's voice as she had been rejected and literally shoved away.
The next morning, after two giant cups of coffee, Jane managed to put herself together and got into work only slightly late. She hadn't decided how to handle the situation with Maura, but she told herself that at the very least she had to try to avoid causing a scene at work.
She failed.
On her desk chair she found a note, in a cream-colored envelope with her name on it. She instantly recognized the handwriting as Maura's. She sat down and ripped it open.
Dear Jane,
I am so sorry about what happened last night. We are friends and coworkers and I never should have allowed myself to lose control like that. I think the best thing for us is just to pretend that it never happened, and then never let it happen again.
Again, I apologize. I hope you can forgive me.
Sincerely,
Maura
Jane read the note several times, feeling the hurt and pain bubbling up inside of her. But this time the pain didn't turn into tears, it turned into anger. Throwing caution to the wind, she rode the elevator down to the morgue, clenching her jaw and biting her lip.
She found Maura in the morgue, sitting in front of her computer. Jane looked around to make sure they were alone, and then launched into what could only be called a tirade.
"A goddamn note, Maura?" She waved the crumpled stationery in Maura's face. "You think you can just write a note and I'll forget what happened?"
"Jane, I—"
"And we're coworkers? Is that all our friendship is to you? After all we've been through together? You owe me an explanation, Maura. You owe me more than a fucking letter." Now she threw the paper on the desk and folded her arms in front of her, staring Maura down.
Maura looked stricken, and Jane wondered if she was going to cry. At this point, she didn't care. She was too angry.
"Jane, I said I was sorry," Maura said in a quiet voice.
"That's not good enough."
"Well, I don't know what else to say. Yes, we certainly are more than just coworkers, maybe I should have used a different word—"
"Really Maura? You should have used a different word? That's your big mistake?"
Maura looked away, twisting the ring on her finger. "You mean a lot to me Jane, but I—we shouldn't have—I don't know what to say."
Jane's anger began to dissipate as she saw how flustered Maura was, but she still wanted an explanation.
"Did I do something to make you angry, Maura?"
"No!" Maura briefly met Jane's gaze and then looked away again. "No, it was my fault."
"Your fault? Why do you think what we did was so wrong? Is it because I'm—because we're both women?"
"No, I'm not a homophobe, Jane, and I have nothing against lesbians—"
"Then please, Maura, tell me what's wrong." Jane put a gentle hand on Maura's shoulder, but immediately pulled it back when she saw Maura flinch. A wave of pain flashed through her again.
Jane didn't wait for Maura's answer after that. She rubbed her forehead and exhaled.
"Okay, Maura, you win. I guess we'll just pretend it didn't happen," she said in a tired and resigned voice. Then she turned on her heel and walked out of the morgue.
A/N: Don't worry, the angst won't last forever . . .
Thanks to those who read and reviewed!
