A/N: The usual disclaimer applies. I own nothing.

Chapter 6

After a long run and quick showers, the detective and the doctor opened a bottle of wine and the truffles Jane had brought the night before. They stayed up late, laughing through five episodes of Fawlty Towers. Maura had been horrified to learn that Jane had never seen the classic British comedy before, and soon they were both snorting with laughter. The slight buzz from the wine only made the show funnier.

The laughter died down significantly after the third episode, however.

Jane found herself watching Maura more than she was watching the TV. They were sitting side by side on the couch, but the touches and smiles that had come so easily throughout the day had not continued. After holding hands during the car ride all the way home, a sudden shyness had sprung up between them and they were keeping their distance from each other.

Jane desperately wanted to touch Maura though, and from the way their eyes met every so often she was pretty sure that Maura wanted to touch her too. But here, alone, on the couch late at night? What exactly would that mean?

They were both delaying the inevitable. Jane was going to stay over; there was no question about that. But either she would stay in the guest room and the bubble day would be over, or she would stay in Maura's bed and there was a very real possibility that something new would begin.

Jane was terrified. Anxious. And, she couldn't deny it any longer: turned on.

So she fidgeted with the couch pillow she was holding against her stomach and pushed the play button for one more episode.

In the end, it was Maura who made the decision.

"Okay, detective, I've had enough Basil and Sybil for one night. Time for bed?"

Jane yawned overdramatically. "Yeah, definitely." She hauled herself up off the couch, and reached out to pull Maura up as well. She had one last delay tactic—she picked up the wine glasses and headed for the kitchen. Maura followed her, taking the glasses and rinsing them out while Jane stood there with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, rocking on her heels.

She was going to have to ask. She did it quickly, as soon as Maura turned her back to dry her hands on a dishtowel.

"So . . . I'm not trying to get you into bed or anything, but do you want me to stay with you again tonight, or should I sleep down the hall?" Jane hoped her voice sounded light, despite the deeper meaning behind the question.

Maura stood up straight, and put the towel down. Jane would later wonder if the doctor had made the decision right then, or if it had already been made hours—or even days—before.

Maura turned around slowly. She looked at Jane, bit her lip, and looked away. Without catching Jane's eye again, she stepped close and took her hand. Still looking away, she aligned her body with Jane's, resting her head on the detective's shoulder just as she had the night before.

But this wasn't about fear and comfort, this was . . . something else.

Jane's free arm immediately went around Maura's waist. It felt unbelievably good to touch her, smell her, feel her.

"I want you to stay with me," whispered Maura.

Jane closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay. That's kind of what I was hoping you would say."

It was the closest they had come to admitting their feelings towards each other.

Jane stroked Maura's back. Up; down. Up; down. Maura rested her hand on Jane's hip, then let her fingers roam upward, tentatively, caressing bare skin. Meanwhile, she nuzzled the detective's neck, letting her lips graze whatever skin they could reach.

When Jane heard Maura whisper her name, softly, not once but twice, she felt her blood quicken and suddenly she did not want to be standing in the kitchen. Or standing at all. She swallowed and pulled away.

"My stuff is in the other room—I'll be out in a minute, okay?"

"Okay." Maura stepped back, squeezed Jane's hand, and disappeared down the hall.

Jane walked to the guestroom, her heart beating so strongly she could feel it in her ears. She felt like she was watching someone else—some other braver, luckier woman—changing into pajamas and brushing her teeth. She brushed and brushed and brushed, delaying again.

She even ran a brush through her hair.

Maura was already in bed, the sheet pulled up only to her waist. She was wearing a tight tank top for pajamas, and the appearance of so much gorgeous skin nearly made Jane gasp as she walked through the door and closed it behind her. Before she could make her voice work, Maura murmured, "Can you turn off the light?"

Jane flipped the switch and then stood stock still in the dark.

"Are you coming?"

"Yeah, I can't see, give me a second." She felt like an idiot, shuffling her way across the room until her knee hit the mattress.

But then she was in the bed with her arms around the most beautiful woman in the world and nothing else mattered.

They watched each other as their eyes adjusted to the darkness. Maura's fingers traced a path across Jane's cheek, down her neck, and finally wound into her hair.

They settled closer against each other, until their foreheads met. Jane was very aware of the fact that their breasts were touching. The softness of Maura's body was amazing, revelatory. She loved the way that Maura fit against her, loved the feeling of being able to enfold her completely within her arms. Loved that she was small, and smooth, and warm.

She wanted to say something—try to explain how she felt, what she felt, and how much she wanted this. But there were no words. Instead, Jane stroked Maura's cheek, finally leaning in and nuzzling against her neck, inhaling deeply.

She pulled back after a long moment. "Maura," she whispered.

"Hmm," Maura murmured, as she moved to place their cheeks side by side, letting her lips graze ever-so-slightly against Jane's skin.

"Maura, I—"

Maura waited, softly rubbing their cheeks together.

"I feel like I want to kiss you." The statement came out in a strangled, raspy breath against her ear.

"Yes," Maura breathed out, leaning back, waiting.

"But . . . we're not—"

"It's okay, it's bubble day." Her fingers cupped Jane's cheek. "You're so beautiful, Jane."

A grin spread across Jane's face and she felt herself blushing. Then, before she could make a move, Maura kissed her.

Slowly, Jane learned what it was like to kiss a woman. To kiss Maura. She was soft, and every millimeter of her was smooth and delicate. It was nothing like kissing a man. Nothing. And infinitely better.

Jane gently ran her tongue across Maura's bottom lip, and Maura pulled back. Jane's heart pounded, and she almost started to apologize, but again Maura surprised her with a look of pure desire before thrusting into Jane's mouth with abandon. Jane licked and sucked at the pebbled flesh that had invaded her mouth and to her great amazement heard squealing noises coming out of the back of her own throat.

Maura had pinned her head back against the pillow, and when she grew breathless she bent her head into the crook of Jane's neck, sweaty and damp. She moved her body until she lay completely on top of Jane, easing her way between the detective's thighs. Jane's knees bent, and her legs tightened around the smaller woman of their own accord. Her hands snuck up the back of Maura's tank top, spreading her fingers to try to touch as much skin as she possibly could.

Then the kissing started again. Jane lost all track of time, as her reality became nothing more than Maura's hot mouth moving against hers and an unrelenting feeling of wanting more and never getting enough.

Soft sucking noises interspersed with groans and gulping breaths were the only sounds in the room. Neither woman wanted to speak, fearing the bubble would pop forever. There was no question now that a line had been crossed, and the only words that would make sense were words that neither of them wanted to hear.

What are we doing?

Ignoring whatever signals her brain was sending her to be careful, be cautious, Jane rolled over onto her side, never breaking contact with Maura's mouth. Her hand began to move beneath Maura's tank top, slowly sliding over muscle, bone, and finally, breast. Maura pulled away as she concentrated on Jane's fingers on her skin and leaned back against the pillow, silently giving Jane further access.

Jane locked her eyes with Maura's as her palm and then her fingertips met a firm nipple. Jane caressed it while holding her breath, her mouth watering just from thinking about seeing it and tasting it. Imagining suckling, while the look on Maura's face began to approach ecstasy.

Slowly, she pushed up the fabric; bent to kiss a smooth, soft stomach. She dragged her lips and tongue up the seemingly endless expanse of Maura's torso, one kiss at a time, feeling Maura's breathing become labored and her back arching into Jane's touch. Then she slid her hand upward to find Maura's breast again.

As she twisted and kneaded the soft flesh, the look on Maura's face did indeed seem to approach the point of no return. Jane watched Maura's eyelids flutter, her breathing rapid, her back arched. But then her closed eyes pinched, and she turned her head away. Jane watched it happen, and somehow knew what was coming next.

"Jane," Maura groaned, "we have to stop." She stilled Jane's hand, and slowly pushed it away.

No matter that Maura's touch was gentle; Jane still felt like she had been slapped.

"Why? Maura—"

"It's too . . ." Maura took a short breath, still keeping her eyes closed and her head turned away. "I can't."

"Why not?" Jane leaned back, feeling dizzy.

"If we go any further, I don't think I can go back." Maura took a deep breath and shivered, visibly pulling herself together.

"Go back?" Still breathing hard, Jane felt like she couldn't keep up.

"Are you gay, Jane?"

"What?" As usual, Jane was baffled by Maura's bluntness.

"Are you gay? Do you date women? Do you have sex with women?"

Jane felt herself blushing in the dark. "No."

"Me neither."

"So—"

"So, if we aren't gay, Jane, then what are we doing?"

"I don't know, but we can figure it out as we go along, right? God, Maura, what have we been doing all weekend? I thought you wanted this . . . whatever this is."

Maura sighed, and Jane suddenly noticed there were tears on her cheeks. She felt her own eyes water as Maura spoke. "I do, I want—" Maura struggled to find the right words. Any words that would make sense, would somehow make things okay. "It's too much. I don't know who I am anymore. I can't become the daughter of a stone-cold killer and begin a relationship—let alone a lesbian relationship—all in the same week."

"But Maura—"

"Remember when you told Gabriel Dean—why you said you didn't want to date him? Because you weren't ready? I'm not ready, Jane."

Suddenly, Jane found her voice. "I only said that to let him down gently, Maura. I just wasn't into him. I kissed him and I felt nothing. But kissing you—Maura—kissing you, I feel—"

Maura put her fingers over Jane's lips, to try to stop her from saying it, but the word came out anyway.

"Everything."

They looked into each other's eyes for several long moments, before Maura finally broke her gaze.

"Please, Jane. It's too risky. You mean too much to me. What if—"

"What if it works, Maura? What if it works?"

Maura was silent for a few long heartbeats.

"I explained to you the concept of bubble day this morning, didn't I? Things have to go back the way they were."

"Yeah, but . . . this isn't a fairy tale, Maura! There's no magical spell that breaks when the clock strikes midnight."

"I know. And that's why I have to—that's why I have to tell you that I can't. I just can't. Please don't make me try to explain. I don't know how. I'm sorry, Jane, I just don't know." She kissed Jane again, slowly, sweetly, and Jane wasn't sure if the tears she tasted were hers or Maura's.

When they leaned away from the kiss, Jane spoke softly, her voice breaking. "Are you saying you just don't know how you feel, or you don't know how you feel . . . about me?"

Maura's eyes squeezed shut, and Jane realized, dismayed, that she was trying to keep herself from sobbing outright. Taking in a deep breath, the uncharacteristically inarticulate doctor choked out, "I know I love you, Jane, I know that. Please don't think that I don't. But . . ." She took in another breath, which turned into a hiccup.

"But you haven't had a chance to weigh the options? The risks?"

Maura nodded, and Jane stroked her cheek, twirled her hair between her fingers. "I feel like I've been leading you on; I got so carried away with bubble day. But it seemed like a good idea this morning, I didn't know—I really didn't—how it would end. I'm making such bad decisions, Jane, do you see why I can't—why I can't . . . make any commitments to you right now?"

"I'm sorry, sweetie, this is too much for you. I should have known, I shouldn't have—" Jane's voice hitched. "I shouldn't have let things go this far. You're not good with feelings, and you really don't know how you feel. And not knowing is horrible for you, isn't it?"

Maura just nodded, taking deep breaths, her eyes still closed. Jane enfolded the doctor into her arms, and they held each other in silence for a long time.

Finally, Jane spoke again. "It was a wonderful bubble day, Maura. Thank you for the day. No matter what happens, I'll remember it forever. Now can we just hold each other and sleep?"

Maura took several more deep breaths, and finally relaxed.

Jane was still awake, cradling Maura in her arms, when the sun came up.

A/N: Please don't throw things. I haven't written a story with a sad ending yet, and I don't think I'm about to start now . . . Thanks to everyone who has read, and I hope you will continue!