Author's Note: So, I am likely to get beaten over a few things to come, but please just remember that I am indeed a Rizzles diehard fan and will eventually 'get there' in their relationship. I just can't write something that happens instantly because I don't think that these characters would just throw themselves at one another, otherwise Monday nights would be so much fun for us! There is a point to this, there is a case to solve, and there is a lot of work that needs to be done. So, chapters will start coming that delve further into their relationship. Please note that as we move forward, the rating will be moved M starting with this chapter….things are really going to get moving so hang on…..
Chapter 15
Maura opened the door to her house when she heard the faint knock the second time. She had to actually strain to hear it, not certain if it someone had announced their presence or not. As she opened the door, she smiled at Jane who was standing on the porch, shifting her weight from one foot to the other nervously. Maura greeted her with a smile, but was surprised when Jane stopped bouncing and marched forward.
"Jane, what are you doing here?" Maura bit her bottom lip in anticipation seeing a hungry look reflected in Jane's expressive eyes. The feel of Jane's hands strongly wrapping around her shoulders and pushing her inside made her gasp.
"What I should have done a long time ago." Jane's voice was gravelly, more so than usual, and Maura recognized her arousal instantly.
Jane pushed Maura back into the wall and used her foot to quickly close the door behind them. Despite always being the picture perfect example of etiquette, Maura currently couldn't care less that the door slammed shut. She was focused on the woman before her, the woman that defied all of Maura's habits and quirks. Jane was the woman that forced Maura to be more social, to be more open, to fit in regardless of the size of the crowd. She was the woman that Maura longed for, that Maura made flimsy excuses to be near, and the woman who lit her on fire. Maura hadn't had many friends, none that she would classify as a best friend until Jane. She was certain that most women didn't lust after their best friend, desire to kiss their best friend, and, more often than not lately, fantasize about their best friend while masturbating in an attempt to relieve her frustration. But Jane, her best friend, now stood before her clearly becoming unraveled as she leaned forward toward Maura. Jane's face was close to her own; close enough that she could feel Jane's breath on her own lips as Jane exhaled, working to control her emotions.
Jane tilted her head and Maura followed suit, watching as Jane's eyes diverted between Maura's eyes and her lips. It was a classic sign that a kiss was about to happen, and Maura knew Jane's kisses were like no other. Her body hummed in anticipation. Jane allowed their lips to touch, moaning to signal her approval. Their tongues began to collide, both wanting to control the kiss.
She pulled Maura off the wall and wrapped her arms around her, her hands seemed to be everywhere. They were in Maura's hair holding her still so she could deepen the kiss; they were running down Maura's back desperate to gain access to Maura's skin. Her hands wandered to Maura's ass and Maura gasped when she felt Jane's palms land there and push her forward to initiate deeper contact between their lower bodies. Thighs touching thighs, hips pressed against one another's as the kiss continued. Jane's feet carelessly stepped on Maura's as she positioned herself better to grind against the doctor.
Jane walked them backward toward the couch, never allowing their lips to part more than a split second. She relished the feeling of Maura's tongue in her mouth, Maura's hands on her shoulders or buried in her unruly curly hair.
"Jane," Maura gasped when her legs hit the back of the couch and she had no choice but to break the kiss and sit.
"No more talking," Jane said in a voice that instantly made Maura drip with arousal.
Maura allowed Jane to hover over her. If she had to describe Jane in that moment, she would have likened her to a lustrous panther stalking its prey. Maura rose up and met Jane's swollen lips with her own, moaning as she initiated the kiss once more. Maura knew, she inherently knew, that kissing Jane would never get old or become routine. Her lips were so soft, her body the perfect specimen despite Jane's aversion to exercise. Maura couldn't ignore her need any longer, she ran her hands down from Jane's shoulders, meeting at Jane's collarbone, and then separating once more to palm Jane's breasts impatiently.
"God I love your body," Maura whispered before Jane's lips crashed down on her own once more.
While continuing to kiss, Jane used one hand to push against Maura's shoulder to force her to lie on her back on the couch. Maura's legs instinctively opened, making room for Jane's body to position between them. Jane grabbed Maura's hands, pinning first her right then her left down to the couch. Maura had no option left but to raise her head and hips to not lose the contact she had with Jane. She felt like she was going to fall apart when she felt Jane position her legs so that Maura's thigh was between them, leaving one foot on the floor and one draped over the arm of the couch. This position forced their lower bodies to press against each other, the weight of Jane on Maura feeling so right.
Jane let Maura's right hand go, which instantly ran down the length of Jane's back to cup her ass and push her more firmly against Maura's thigh. As the kiss continued, she let the other hand go for Maura to explore her body completely.
Jane moved her hips to a rhythm that would likely take her to an orgasm and caused Maura to grope for any real-estate on Jane's body she could find. She was surprised when Jane sat up quickly breaking their kiss and allowing Maura to gasp for air. The moment, however, was short-lived when Jane reached for the bottom of Maura's tank top and pushed it up. Maura watched as Jane's eyes darkened, her breathing quickened, and her head dipped down to be eyelevel with Maura's chest.
Jane pushed Maura's bra up, her need overpowering any other desire, even the one to take things slow and relish in the moment. When the cool air hit Maura's bare breasts, she moaned as her nipples hardened even further. She was quickly approaching that fine line between pleasure and pain.
"How do you do this to me?" Maura asked, not shocked that Jane's answer was demonstrative and not vocal. Jane always was a doer not a talker.
Jane's lips wrapped around Maura's nipple and pulled it into her mouth. She sucked for a few moments, and then when Maura twisted Jane's hair in her hands and arched her back Jane smiled and raked her teeth over Maura's nipple. The sensation was overwhelming; Maura arched her entire body into Jane's and gasped when the energy from Jane's teeth seemed to correlate to the throbbing between her legs.
Maura's breath came in gasps, sprinkled with moans and heavy panting, as Jane worked her nipple as a means of foreplay.
"Jane!"
"Maura." Jane placed her hand on Maura's leg, shaking her to awaken her from her dream. They had left the cabin several hours ago and the sun was starting to set as they journeyed toward South Boston. "You were dreaming."
"I'm sorry, I drifted off. I must be more tired than I thought."
"Are you ok?" Jane glanced back toward the road and then once again back at Maura. "You were mumbling in your sleep."
Maura placed her hand on her chest to feel her heart racing underneath. If Jane had noticed her blushing, she hadn't mentioned it and for that Maura was eternally grateful.
"It was just a dream." Maura opened her mouth to reassure Jane that she was indeed fine and that her dream was inconsequential. When Maura opened her mouth, no words came out; she knew the dream represented more than that, it wasn't insignificant to her.
Damn my inability to lie.
"I'm fine, thank you."
Maura watched as the scenery flew by them, Jane's speed was reaching an alarming rate. She settled back into her seat and stared at Jane's face until Jane dared to look at her.
"Are we trying to prove that virtual photons can actually travel faster than light?"
"What?" Jane's face took on a rather odd expression of annoyance and confusion. "Care to explain that in plain English, Dr. Isles."
"Photons, they neither have mass nor electronic charge but possess energy and momentum nonetheless…."
"Forget I asked," Jane interrupted with a smile as she focused on the road. Despite herself, Maura smiled as well settling into what could have been an uncomfortable silence but now seemed to fit them both well. "I can only assume you're referencing my speed and I'm just trying to get us there before…"
"Before my father dies?" Maura didn't want the words to just hang in the air with Jane unable to voice what they both knew was imminent.
"I actually don't know anymore," Jane said as she signaled to surrounding drivers that she was changing lanes. "I don't understand how a dying man can leave his house with nothing more than a cane and then end up killing someone."
"Do you think he killed him or simply ordered someone else to do it?"
"We likely will never find out," Jane said merging back into her original lane. "I just don't buy it, Maura."
"Buy what?"
"That he's even sick." Jane dared to voice what her fear had been since she was contacted by Patrick Doyle. "I think this is all some elaborate scheme to pull you in, Maura. Into a world that obviously has a lot of danger associated with it."
"Do you trust me?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Because I can assure you," Maura stared at Jane regardless of the fact that she was watching the road before them, "Patrick Doyle is dying. There is no medical explanation for why the body and mind rally near the end of life, but it's well documented and published. You'd be surprised at the amount of research that has gone into those last few days when a patient gets a burst of energy, a cessation to the constant pain; many people have tried to explain it as a religious or spiritual event. I suppose, to some, it gives a living example of the faith that religion begs for."
"How long?"
"How long does it last?" Maura shrugged her shoulders and she focused out the window once more. "Hours, days, I don't know of any documented case that has been for a period longer than a few days."
"So we could get back there and he could last for only a few more days?"
"It's my opinion," Maura said quietly and cautiously, "that Patrick Doyle has a matter of days left at most, yes."
Maura took a deep breath and then turned to face Jane once more.
"I'm irrationally afraid." Maura caught Jane's full attention.
A flustered Detective Rizzoli finally remembered to watch the road and quickly turned back to focus her efforts on keeping them safe. She pondered Maura's statement waiting for her to elaborate but, when she didn't, Jane decided to press for the source of Maura's fear.
"Why are you afraid?"
"I know it seems silly," Maura began, "to be afraid of things other than someone trying to kill me. But that is actually the furthest thing from my mind. Perhaps it's because we were so withdrawn from it all in the cabin or it happened so suddenly…."
"Maura, what is it?"
"I don't think it's just one thing, Jane. I'm afraid of not getting the information on my mother or if I do get it, of having built up this woman into such a fantasy that she could never live up to the high expectations I have for her. Can one person make up for all the love that I never felt as a child? I've built her up in my mind that she can wipe all of that away. I don't think it's fair to place that expectation on her when I don't even know if she'll want a relationship with me." Maura took a deep breath and then mentally quieted her objection to the next sentence knowing she wanted to be honest with Jane. "I'm afraid that we'll never talk about the kiss…."
"That shouldn't even make the list," Jane said calmly, now actively avoiding eye contact with Maura. "It's not something that should even be on your mind. It's because of those other fears that it happened in the first place."
Maura closed her eyes willing her facial expression to remain neutral, but Jane was mistaken and if nothing else, Maura wanted complete honesty between them.
"You were so angry with me when you found out I had kept Doyle from you, so I don't want there to be any misconceptions between us, Jane. I don't want to ever feel the way I did when you were angry with me."
Can't this car go any faster so this conversation can end? I am not ready to discuss this, some facial coding recognition expert she is. Can't she see that?
"I know you'd rather have the car floor open up and you fall out onto the freeway rather than have this conversation…"
"I never said that, Maura."
"It's written all over your face." Maura smiled softly when Jane's eyes met her own.
Damn facial recognition coding expert! Be careful what you wish for, Rizzoli.
"I didn't kiss you because of all those things, I kissed you despite them. We've danced around that kiss long enough."
"So the sleepover was your way of telling me you were attracted to me?" Jane couldn't help the humor or the smile that came over her face causing Maura to roll her eyes in Rizzoli fashion.
"Use humor to hide your feelings, Jane, I'm used to it by now."
"Well we can't all be blunt as a stone either, Maura, there has to be a happy medium between us right?"
"Can't we discuss this like civilized adults?"
"Can't we avoid it like all the adults I know do when they aren't ready to talk about it?" Jane shot back.
"We're almost there anyway." Maura began to recognize the scenery around her. She had made the trip enough times to recognize the landmarks that decorated South Boston.
Jane cursed the silence that enveloped them, but then thanked her lucky stars that Maura had stopped talking.
How can she make me completely crazy like this; I want the polar opposites?
Jane took a deep breath as she parked her car behind Korsak's old beater and shut the car off. She reached over and grasped Maura's hand. It was time she lived up to her end of the bargain; Maura was right, hardly anyone else would take her abuse and certainly not anyone Maura's caliber.
"Whatever happens, I'll be here for you, Maura." Jane offered her sincerest smile after squeezing Maura's hand in reassurance. "Let's go talk to your sperm donor."
Jane exited the car and waited as Maura steadied her breath and then got out of the vehicle and walked toward the front door. She didn't bother to knock; she knew that Patrick Doyle was expecting her and the formality wasn't something she wanted to waste on this visit. She wanted answers, and she straightened her posture before entering the makeshift bedroom where Patrick Doyle was spending his last days.
She shot a look of disbelief and concern at Korsak and Frost before focusing her attention on Patrick Doyle. He was sweating, his breathing was labored, and she rushed to his side grabbing his wrist and focusing on her watch to take his pulse.
"How long has he been like this?"
"About an hour, Doc," Frost said softly. "He's been in and out of it since then."
Maura frowned as she mentally calculated Patrick Doyle's pulse; his breathing was heavy and she blinked back tears as her eyes met Jane's from across the room.
"Maura?"
"He's dying." Maura looked down as Patrick Doyle began to awaken. He offered a small smile to his daughter, not bothering to wipe away any of the tears that began to fall from his eyes.
"You made it," Patrick Doyle's voice was hoarse from coughing.
"I'm here." Maura sat on the edge of his bed, but dared not to touch her father. It was the closest thing that she could bring herself to in terms of intimacy with him. She waited with baited breath to hear him speak.
"I promised you I'd tell you about your mother. I'll tell you everything I know, Maura, including that she loved you very much and never forgave me for who I am. It's why we were forced to give you up."
Korsak, Frost, and Jane suddenly felt extremely intrusive when the discussion of Maura's life began to unfold. Korsak signaled toward the hallway leading to the kitchen as he straightened his tie and stepped toward the doorway.
"I'm just…I'm gonna…right." Korsak was relieved that Maura seemed to not notice his lack of excuse for making an exit. Frost offered nothing in the way of an attempt to excuse himself, he simply walked past Jane to follow Korsak to the kitchen. Jane turned to follow when Maura's voice surprised her.
"Stay, Jane, please." Maura's gaze never faltered as she stared at Patrick Doyle. Jane silently accepted as she stood far enough away from the bed to not intrude but dutifully behind Maura to show her support. "Who is my mother?"
"Her name is Kathleen Brady," Patrick Doyle gasped. "I met her just after I was kicked out of grammar school."
"Kathleen derived from St. Catherine who arrived in Ireland with Christianity. It became popular after Yeats chose it for the heroine of his 1899 play "The Countess Cathleen." Maura turned toward Jane as if she were filling her in on a deep, family secret. "Although we Americanized it to spell it with a 'K' it was originally spelled with a 'C'. How fitting that the play was based on the Irish folktale."
"I wouldn't know." Patrick Doyle offered a shy smile as he reached for Maura's hand. Jane watched in amazement as Maura neither accepted nor rejected his hand; she simply let it lay on top of hers without moving. The tension in the room was thick; Jane had never been privy to the last moments of someone dying. She was always the person who arrived after to solve the mystery. It was obvious to her that Maura knew he was dying, he knew he was dying, and the fact that she knew all of this was making her rather uncomfortable.
"It is about a time of famine where the Devil offers food to the starving poor in exchange for their souls, but Cathleen convinces Satan to take her soul instead. When she dies and the Devil comes to collect her soul, God intervenes and carries her to heaven saying that such a sacrificial act cannot justly lead to evil consequences."
"Sounds just like her," Patrick chuckled as he squeezed Maura's hand tight. "I'm sure you're making the analogy that I'm the Devil in that story. That she gave me the greatest thing she could, a daughter rather than her soul, but we couldn't keep you despite the love we felt for you. I wanted you safe, happy, above the kind of life I could offer to you both."
"Where is she?"
"I don't have a clue." Patrick Doyle waited for emotions to cross over Maura's face. Much to his surprise, she remained stoic and simply nodded. "I didn't mislead you,
Maura, I can tell you what I know which is what I promised."
Maura didn't flinch when Jane placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. She somehow felt guilty for knowing this would be how it ended; Maura might have a name, but she was no closer to finding the woman than she was before she had a name.
"It stops here though." Patrick coughed again and then his eyes gazed upon Jane to address her. "When I left grammar school, I got involved with the Charleston group because I had no place to go. My parents kicked me out since I wasn't going to school, back then if you were on the streets and not protected you'd be in the crossfire between my clan and the Winter Hill Gang."
"I'm not impressed with either," Jane said after she cleared her throat.
"I was never impressed either, just desperate to survive," Doyle countered. "I was around long enough that as folks starting getting knocked off or too old to care, power starting getting handed down. One generation after another, Detective Rizzoli, you accepted it and considered it an honor or you were killed."
Jane was unmoved by the confession; nothing he said now would take away the fact that she had no chance to bring him to justice.
"I'm not handing down my power." Doyle smiled smugly at the arching eyebrow Jane shot him in surprise. "I have enough information collected to give the police control of the dock operation. I don't want someone to have to sacrifice like I did…" Doyle reached up and touched Maura's cheek. "I don't want someone to have to give up love in any form to take this burden on, to feel pushed into it like their life literally depended on it."
"So you're letting it all go and we're supposed to believe that your crew isn't going to just pick it back up?"
"The people that stayed with me did so because we're family," Doyle said sternly. "Michael stayed with me because he was like a son to me; I picked him up off the streets and gave him a home, some food, basic necessities, Detective."
"That's why there were always so few people around you," Maura said softly as her mind worked in overdrive to connect the dots.
"Because very few people loved me, Maura," Doyle's voice was laced with sadness. "In the house are some files, you'll find them, Detective Rizzoli, to be an easy read. It won't bring people back, but I never killed anyone that didn't deserve it, I didn't kill innocent women and children either!"
Patrick Doyle began to shake but continued to talk, desperate to get all the information he could to Maura before he died. He smiled as a single tear fell from Maura's eyes wetting his palm.
"You are so much like her." Patrick Doyle was struggling to not mistake Maura for her mother Kathleen in his weakened state. He looked at Maura and easily remembered what Kathleen looked like, they were mirror images of one another. "For as bright as you are, she is as creative. She used to paint, sculpt; she used to get lost in her work for hours to escape the pain I caused her. The pain from having to give you up, but also of loving me."
"Where is she?"
"I don't know," Patrick Doyle answered quickly and honestly. "When we gave you up, she hated me, Maura. It's something she likely never forgave me for. I never actually forgave myself either. She left me, left town, went likely as far away from me as she possibly could."
"You told me she was well taken care of," Maura's voice quivered as she spoke betraying her to show her feelings.
"I put money into an account, the same one for years. I put the money in, she took it out, never too much and never in a pattern. I've lost her, Maura, but you can find her, give yourself a chance to know a remarkable woman."
Patrick Doyle began to breathe heavily, the weight in his chest felt constricting and his pain began to grow. Maura could tell he was in pain; she instantly got up and moved past Jane to the pile of medical supplies that she had asked for. She removed a vile of morphine and began to prepare to dispense it to alleviate some of his pain. Jane stood by the bed, nervously looking between Maura and Patrick Doyle as his breathing began to slow. Maura looked up, staring at Doyle than looking at Jane. There was a sense of calmness, a silent look shared between Maura and Jane before Maura realized that she could no longer hear Patrick Doyle's labored breath.