Until:
"So, what did he have up his ass?"
Hearing such an obscenity from a middle-aged, Catholic mother of three nearly made Maura burst out into awkward, sputtering laughter. However, she managed to hold back her amusement. Although her interests and speech patterns were a little 'abnormal', as her parents so often reminded her, Maura had learned how to restrain herself somewhat growing up.
"Korsak didn't believe me when I told him that the woman across the hall was murdered," Jane said flatly, clearly still upset by her ex-partner's lack of faith. Maura could tell that Korsak had hurt her feelings more than she wanted to admit.
Angela Rizzoli's eyebrows almost rose past her hairline. "Murder? Here? What do you mean?"
"I mean what I said," Jane said, unable to keep from sulking a little. For all of her other good qualities, Jane did have a tendency to pout once in a while, especially when she was told not to do something she wanted to do. "Maura and I think Rose Heissman was murdered. She's the sweet old lady that lived across the hall. My money's on her creepy son, but we don't have any proof except that Maura found a major overdose of weird cancer medicine -"
"- SERMs, Jane, and the one I found was Raloxifene -"
"Anyway," the detective continued, ignoring Maura's overtalk, "someone gave her an overdose of some really powerful drugs. They weren't listed on the medical records that Maura got for her either."
"My copy of her medical records might not be complete or up to date," the medical examiner admitted. "It might be worth it to check."
Angela still seemed stunned. "You think a woman was murdered?" she repeated, unable to form any other words.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Ma, that's what I just said!"
The older woman frowned and shook her head disapprovingly. "Jane Rizzoli, you may be a grown woman, but you will not talk to your mother like that."
"Don't be upset, Angela," Maura said, trying to smooth things over. "Jane is just upset because Korsak didn't believe her."
Instead of calming Angela down, that seemed to make her angrier. "Why wouldn't he believe her? My Janie is a homicide detective. If anyone knows about murder, it's her. So, you think this woman's son did it? Why?"
Jane shrugged. "Who knows? Money in her will, a personal grudge..."
"Jim Weaver implied earlier that his father might have given Rose an overdose in order to fake a hospital lawsuit... That's the victim's son," Maura added for Angela's benefit.
Angela thought for a moment. "Well, how are you gonna find out who killed her?"
Maura glanced at Jane to monitor her response, more than certain that the brunette had spent most of her waking hours thinking about just that question. A flicker of uncertainty crossed the detective's face, pulling a look of concern from the medical examiner, as it wasn't something that normally appeared there. Hesitantly, she tried to fill the silence. "Well, first, we're going to figure out what happened to the nurse that last saw Mrs. Heissman alive."
Jane nodded slowly, the thoughts beginning to whirl back to normal inside her head. "We've got to figure out if she was terminated, or if she's simply taking a leave of absence. Either way, it seems curious that she just disappeared."
Angela's eyes were uncharacteristically stoic for a moment. "It can't be easy, losing someone, even if it's a patient." Jane felt her stomach drop at the comment, a feeling of helplessness and guilt rising in her gut, and she was pretty sure that it didn't have anything to do with her injury. Not physically, at least.
"Ma," she began, but her mother put a hand up to silence her.
"Doesn't matter." She glanced over at Maura. "So, I'm guessing you'll be the one doing the leg work on this? Seeing as how you're the one with the ability to use your legs." She smirked at her own wit, but Jane simply rolled her eyes.
Maura did neither. Instead, her expression was earnest as she spoke. "I'll do whatever I can to help, but Jane, please promise me that you'll let me handle this in my own way." She wasn't sure exactly what was swelling up inside her, but she felt wetness behind her eyes and she averted her gaze, willing it away. She had long been of the school of thought that there was no true connection between the limbic system and the lacrimal apparatus, but her relationship with Jane was changing that belief. "I just don't need you to -" her voice wouldn't cooperate, as if her throat were cutting her off.
"Hey, Ma, do you mind getting me some of that pudding dessert from downstairs?" the detective asked, taking note of the strong emotions Maura was attempting to hide.
Angela chanced a sympathetic look towards the medical examiner. "Nice try, Jane, but next time, just tell me the two of you need a moment, all right? I may be your mother, but I'm not stupid." She nodded towards the bag of food on the table. "There's soup in there for your, dear." With that, she shut the door behind her, leaving Jane and Maura alone.
"Maura?" Jane asked, raising her eyebrows. "What's going on for you over there?"
'What is going on over here?' Maura didn't raise her head right away, but she felt a sudden urge to sit again, and she slumped back into the chair that she had left earlier, and pressed her head against the cool sheets of the bed.
"Hey," Jane said, wincing slightly as she leaned forward. "We're not doing anything stupid. It's just a simple investigation." She touched the blonde's shoulder, comforted by the fact that even though Maura was upset, the medical examiner still seemed to melt into her touch. "Maura..."
"I seem to be having a neurological response to stress," she mumbled into the sheets. The detective's hand was comforting as it kneaded her shoulder, but it was that very strength that frightened her. "Aren't you scared?" she whispered softly.
Jane knew the medical examiner had to be exhausted. She hadn't been sleeping very well herself, but she had gotten pretty good at skimming over her feelings by focusing on the next project at hand. She had thought Maura adopted the same technique, but only used more brain cells, but it seemed like the blonde had bottled something up over the past few weeks, and it was only now spilling out of her. The eyes that turned back up at her were shiny.
"I said, aren't you scared?"
"Of what, Maur?" Jane whispered, although the quickening of her pulse indicated that she knew exactly what the smaller woman meant.
"I'm not a psychologist, Jane, so don't make me act like one." Although her words were harsh, her tone wasn't.
Jane relinquished her hold on Maura's shoulder. "Of course. I've cheated death one too many times." She smiled, but it was a haphazard attempt. "But I did what I had to do with Hoyt, and I did what I had to do to save Frankie that day in the morgue. I knew what I was doing."
Maura trailed a finger along the detective's arm, and Jane felt her own goose flesh rise underneath the touch. "I know," the doctor replied sadly, "that's what scares me. And I'm afraid that you'll never stop doing it. Lucky streaks don't last. Ask any casino owner."
Her comment hung in the air, and Jane suddenly needed to touch her girlfriend - friend - whatever the hell they were - and she pulled Maura closer, cupping the honey blonde's chin in her hands. She wanted to press her lips firmly against the ones that parted just in front of her, but she knew she owed Maura more than that.
"Maura, I promise nothing will happen to me."
Instead of having the intended effect and soothing Maura's fears, Jane's reassurance only made her even more upset. "You can't promise that. I don't like being lied to." Even though her eyes were burning, Maura didn't pull away from Jane's touch, continuing to let the detective cradle her face and stare into her eyes. Even when she was hurting, she couldn't seem to turn away from any scrap of intimacy Jane gave her. Even though the brunette had been extra affectionate since her hospitalization, Maura found herself wanting even more.
"We'll be careful."
"Careful isn't good enough! I lov -" This time, Maura did pull away, clapping her hands over her mouth. Her eyes widened in panic, the tears she had been holding back suddenly forgotten. "I need to leave," she said in a rush, getting up and almost stumbling backwards as she tried to regain her footing. "I need time." Truthfully, Maura wasn't the one who needed time. She was just afraid of Jane's reaction to her unintentional confession.
'How could you have been so stupid?' she berated herself inwardly, unable to look at Jane's face. She didn't want to know what the detective was thinking. 'Jane doesn't want this, isn't ready for this... You're going to lose her.'
"Maura..." Jane tried to reach out even though her lover had backed several feet away, but the doctor ignored her, fumbling with her purse and hurrying towards the safety of the hallway.
"Not now, Jane. I can't -" But what Maura really meant was, 'you can't'.
Because it didn't matter whether Jane got herself into another sticky situation and died the next day. Maura couldn't stifle her feelings. All she could do was try and keep from pressuring Jane. She couldn't bear the thought of losing her friend a second time, and although it seemed foolish, imagining a life without Jane because of rejection hurt almost as much as the thought of her death.
"Maura, wait!" Even though she desperately wanted to flee the room, something in Jane's voice stopped Maura dead in her tracks. Slowly, she turned around, hoping that her legs wouldn't fall out from under her and send her spilling onto the floor. She swallowed, trying to work moisture into her dry throat, but no words came to her. "When will I see you again?"
"Not for a long time," Maura said, her voice shaking as she took one last look at the detective in the hospital bed, trying to commit her to memory just in case... just in case... she wasn't sure. "At least, not until tomorrow night." Cursing her weakness, the medical examiner finally made her escape, too afraid to look back a second time.
. . .
When Angela returned several minutes later, she was surprised to find her daughter alone in her room, looking confused and a little depressed. "Where did Maura go? I thought you two needed a moment," she said, peeking out into the hall to see whether her daughter's lover was waiting outside."She left," Jane said flatly.
"What did you do? She's too good for you."
Trying not to be shocked at her mother's statements and her easy acceptance of their - did it qualify as a relationship? - Jane couldn't help feeling defensive as well. It seemed like she had been forced to defend herself against all kinds of people tonight. First Korsak, then her mother, and even Maura. It was exhausting. "I didn't do anything," she insisted. "Maura was upset because she thinks I have a death wish or something."
"Sometimes I think the same thing."
"Ma!"
"Well, I do... What did you say to make her leave?"
"I didn't do anything," Jane repeated. "She just blurted out that she loved me and left." Briefly, the detective wondered whether it was a good idea to share this with her occasionally nosy and judgmental mother, but she had no one else to ask for advice.
"Still your fault," Angela insisted, seemingly shocked by how thick her daughter was being. For the life of her, Jane still couldn't figure out what she had done. "She told you she loves you, but what have you done for her?" The detective forgot the argument she had been about to make and froze, unable to do anything but listen. "You get yourself shot, and while you're supposed to be recovering, you try and get involved in more danger. You don't tell her you love her back, and you don't show it, either."
"How do you know that? I never said I loved her."
"I'm your mother. Of course I know. You're so stubborn you wouldn't tell her you love her at gunpoint. In fact, you didn't."
Jane scowled. "I was trying to save Frankie's life at the time. Why do you think I shot myself, because I wanted workman's comp?"
"Before or after that would have been fine. It still might not be too late. When you see her tomorrow, tell her she's not alone in this. I bet you'll get a much better response out of her."
. . .