Chapter 16
Maura sighed as she balanced her chin in the palm of her hand, allowing her elbow propped against her desk to support the weight of it. Despite the fact that Homicide had been slow, painfully slow, for the past few weeks she felt overwhelmed with work. When Patrick Doyle died, it created a chain of events that Maura could have never fathomed would have her sitting in the morgue at night more frustrated than she had ever been throughout her life. The puzzle before her wasn't a body on her table; the puzzle wasn't unraveling someone else's life so that Jane could bring justice to the victim and their family. This was her puzzle, it was Maura's life and she simply couldn't unravel it to find her own story.
Maura had been avoiding all mainstream television since the biggest story being reported on was that the infamous crime boss Paddy Doyle had passed away. The speculation regarding his business dealings was at an all-time high and unless it was confirmed by Jane as accurate Maura didn't want to entertain the negativity. The various anonymous sources being interviewed turned Maura's stomach, knowing that a large percentage of their testament was incorrect. Maura had exhausted every documentary she owned, and had read the stack of books that she had purchased to but never seemed to have time to read.
The second event that happened to alter her life came in the form of Doyle's confession. He had given Jane, out of some demented respect he had gained for her, enough ammunition to take back the docks and eliminate the further existence of any holdouts from his organization. This meant that Jane's time was scarce; their usual pattern of random dinners throughout the week and at least one weekend 'date' night had been skipped over the past few weeks. She saw Jane at work and twice this week alone Maura had left late and returned early to headquarters to see Jane wearing the same clothes. Jane had explained that they were working against the clock; that if Boston PD didn't act quickly the docks would go to some other crime family who would elude them as Doyle had for years. Cavanaugh had asked very few questions regarding their sources of information, the thought of the docks finally being clean had him salivating at the mouth and giving Jane, Frost, and Korsak an abundance of support. All of this added up to less time with Jane, and Maura trying to adjust to the fact that she had become accustomed to and needed her time with Jane. She marveled last night as she lay awake in bed unable to sleep how she had evolved from a socially awkward person who tended to avoid the living to dependant on someone so her complete opposite in such a short time.
The third event, more personal than the first two, was the knowledge of her mother's name. While Jane had used this uncharacteristically slow time in Homicide to work through Doyle's evidence, Maura used the time to search for her mother. She quickly came to the realization that what she flippantly referred to as Jane's 'gumshoe talent' wasn't as easy as Jane made it seem. Maura was on a personal journey though and police resources couldn't be used for personal gain, so she was left with laymen's resources like Google and other Internet resources to find her mother. Her original search began weeks ago, when she quickly discovered that there were literally thousands of women with the name Kathleen Brady. Despite narrowing her search to women near Patrick Doyle's age and geographical locations near and including Massachusetts she was having no luck. She had gone through hundreds of social networking pages, address search sites and, when available, pictures of the women desperate to see some sort of resemblance to her given Doyle's admission that she looked like her mother.
Maura could concede that her days were frustrating with all that was swirling around in her life and the search for her mother, but it was the nights that were the worst. When she dared to reflect on her life, it was at night and the silence enveloping her drove her to the brink of insanity. When she attempted to sleep, her nights were filled with dreams of Jane that would wake her and she would often realize the state of arousal she was in. It wasn't just remembering their kiss, although it had started out that way. The dreams quickly evolved into Jane touching her, teasing her with her fingers and tongue, and Maura begging for her release. They were becoming stronger, moving from once or twice a week to nightly and it had Maura rather on edge.
Maura leaned back, closing her eyes as she let her head fall backward to stretch her neck. She was tired of looking at the computer; she was tired of searching for answers both online and internally.
How can Jane just go on pretending that it didn't happen?
"Your preferred shoe out of stock again?" Maura looked up to see Jane holding two cups of coffee sporting her usual sexy smile. "I saw your car was still in the parking lot, figured you could use a cup despite the fact that Stanley made it and not Ma."
She's not even aware of how alluring she truly is.
"You're taking an awfully big risk, Detective." Maura smiled back at Jane, extending her hand toward her couch to encourage Jane to sit. She instantly stood and walked the length of her office to sit next to Jane thankful for the respite from her research. "Stanley isn't your biggest fan, perhaps I should give everyone something to do and have the crime lab run tests on it before we consume it."
"How can we be so slow and yet so busy?"
"Because neither of us are working on Homicide related activities." Maura sipped her coffee carefully, not certain of how it would actually taste. When she was certain it was passable she took a bigger swallow of the coffee and smiled at Jane. It wasn't until Jane finally titled her cup toward her lips that she let out a laugh. "Were you waiting to see if I would be poisoned before you took a sip of your own?"
"Survival of the fittest, Maura." Jane laughed when Maura playfully swatted at her arm. "What, if not shoes, are you working on dare I ask?"
"Kathleen Brady and I now have a new found respect for your gumshoe technique."
Jane couldn't hold back her laughter as she stared into Maura's hazel eyes. She then took stock in her friend. Maura's hair was casually swept up off her shoulders and neck. Her legs were crossed and one of her designer heels was precariously balanced on her toe as she swung her foot slowly. This was a nervous habit that Jane had come to recognize having first witnessed the behavior coupled with twisting her ring. Her dress, although impeccable in taste and flattering to her figure, had some wrinkles in it and that's when Jane fully understood there was more to the story than her mother.
"Your mother has you this rattled? You have wrinkles in your dress, Maura, that's just simply unheard of." Jane ensured she remained smiling as Maura quickly whipped her head in Jane's direction with a scowl. When she noticed Jane's dimples accenting her pure smile, she laughed despite herself.
"It's all just a lot to take in right now, Jane, spending all this time researching hundreds of women who could potentially be my mother is exhausting."
"I'm sorry I haven't been much help." Jane sipped her coffee while contemplating her next statement. "Maybe I should have focused some of my time to help you with what you're working on instead of pouring through file after file upstairs."
"Please," Maura paused, waving her hand in the air to dismiss Jane's silly notion, "I certainly understand and support the need to bring some peace to Patrick Doyle's victims and eliminate the corruption at the docks. Finding my mother is my plight; it just is different when the puzzle is your life and not someone who is lying on the autopsy table."
"But I'm here now," Jane looked at her watch and sighed, "For at least another ten minutes if you want to bounce something off of me."
"I'm not sure you want what you can help me with to be 'bounced off of you' as you say."
Maura knew Jane well enough to know she wouldn't want to approach the conversation of them kissing. Jane spent years sweeping her feelings under the proverbial rug and not dealing with them head-on, while Maura was overly blunt and had very few boundaries and outwardly expressed her feelings. Their stark contrast balanced them well; Jane had opened up a great deal more to Maura over the last several years and Maura had learned to delicately approach Jane with discussions revolving around feelings. She would need a subtle tactic for this discussion; one that involved a balance between playfulness and challenging. Jane often used humor to express her feelings and would never back down from anything that someone thought she couldn't do.
"You can help me with something other than my mother." Maura focused her eyes on her finger as she ran it over the rim of the cup she held in her hand. "But I'm not sure you're up for the challenge."
"I'm sorry?" Jane's eyebrow rose, as did the octave of her voice and Maura found comfort in the predictability of it all.
"It has to do with feelings, Jane," Maura smiled. "I'm not sure that's always your strong suit."
"It can be my strong suit as long as it doesn't involve my feelings." Jane smiled when Maura chuckled despite herself. "I also don't like you crying, just for the record. I'm sure I can handle what you want to throw at me as long as your eyes are dry and you don't ask me to lay down on this couch and tell you about my family."
"So as long as I keep the conversation regulated to only my feelings we're ok to have it?"
Jane looked at her suspiciously then cautiously nodded her head. Her posture became stiff as if she were preparing herself for the pending conversation, especially since Maura had confirmed that feelings would be discussed.
"It's not going away, Jane," Maura said softly as her eyes fixated on her desk on the other side of the room.
"What's not going away?"
"The time at the cabin…"
Jane let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. She looked up at the ceiling knowing that Maura wasn't talking about the simple few days they had spent there, she was talking specifically about the kiss they had shared. The very same kiss that haunted Jane's dreams at night; the very same kiss that caused her to bury herself in work in a unsuccessful attempt to forget it had happened, despite the fact that if she were honest with herself she didn't want to forget that kiss.
You walked right into this one, Rizzoli, don't be an asshole.
"I didn't know you'd find the scenery so fascinating…" Jane offered a weak smile realizing that Maura wasn't going to allow her to minimize the conversation using her misplaced humor. "Maura, I just don't know that I'm prepared to talk about this."
"What do you have to prepare for, Jane? You can't simply sit here and tell me how you feel about what happened?"
"I would if I understood my feelings."
"Do you think that I totally understand my feelings?" Maura asked. "I can assure you that I don't and yet I'm willing to talk about it to clear the air between us."
"You have a bigger brain than I do; it lets you process things quicker."
Maura's mouth gaped open until Jane smiled, a genuine olive branch to show Maura that Jane simply couldn't process her feelings without relying on her instinct to hide behind her humor.
"And you are by far more socially adept than I am unless we're talking high society, Jane. My rather large brain, as you put it, has nothing to do with whether or not I can process my emotions any faster than you do. I just can't spend another night without understanding what that kiss meant between us."
Jane's phone vibrated breaking the moment between them. Jane offered an apologetic look to Maura, her eyes pleading for understanding, when she reached for the phone.
"Yeah, Frost." Jane's gaze remained on Maura who slipped her shoe fully on her foot and padded across the room to sit behind her desk. Jane assumed it was Maura's way of pouting; she was angry that their conversation was interrupted. Jane, on the other hand, relished in the fact that Frost needed her upstairs to look at a file which provided an excellent excuse to postpone the conversation.
Jane closed her phone and slipped it back into the case fixed onto her belt. She leaned forward and called out for Maura, waiting until Maura's eyes met her own.
"They need me upstairs, but you're right, Maura. I'm an asshole who makes jokes, albeit good ones, to avoid any emotional outpouring of my feelings. Old habits die hard, but I'll try to be better."
Maura nodded reluctantly knowing the conversation wasn't going to happen once again.
"Can you please give me some time to process this?" Jane asked sincerely. "If I promise that we'll talk about it when all this shit clears and we have some time to really talk about it rather than stealing ten minutes together?"
"I'm surprised, Jane, I would have thought you wanted to limit the conversation." Maura now was hiding behind a certain level of sarcasm and humor as she smiled to reveal her dimples.
"Normally, yes!" Jane rose to her feet and laughed. "But we both know that this isn't going to fall into the normal category and you deserve more than ten minutes no matter what the outcome is."
Jane raised her hand to offer a hesitant wave as she exited the office and quickly stepped into the elevator. She pushed the up button once, bouncing on the balls of her feet praying that the elevator would arrive to assist in her getaway plan. She waited just a moment, and then hit the button again, waiting an additional ten seconds before doing it again.
What does it take to get the elevator here!
Jane was never so thankful when she heard the familiar bell of the elevator and the doors opened. She quickly stepped inside, pushing her desired floor repeatedly as the doors closed. She closed her eyes, leaned her head against the elevator, and let out a deep breath, thankful that she had escaped without having to divulge her feelings.
How on earth do you tell your best friend that you're now having sexual dreams about her? Jesus, Rizzoli, you are a head case.
Frost greeted Jane when the doors opened and led her to the interrogation room where they had laid out some of the more interesting files Doyle had left for her. She sat down and grabbed the piece of paper that Korsak was holding out for her and began to glance at the words on the page.
"What is this?"
"He knew Howie Winter, Jane, and kept records on all the dealings he had with him."
"He's in prison, Korsak," Jane said, placing the paper down on the table.
"He was, until he got out in 2006. He went in for dealing cocaine and from what little Doyle told me the most recent events tied back to drugs. If we can trace shipments back to Winter, we've got him for the rest of his life, Jane."
"Wasn't there another file in here with Winter in it?" Jane leaned over and began to rifle through a box, removing various files and throwing them on the floor near the box. As she got closer to the end of the stack, she noticed a picture lying on the bottom of the box. She picked it up, sat up straight, and studied it in her hand.
"What is it, Jane?"
"What is this picture?" Jane looked at Frost as she looked over her shoulder at the photograph in her hand.
"I've never seen it before, but it's a painting of some sort."
You are so much like her…..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.
Jane blinked as Doyle's voice echoed in her ears. There would be no reason to keep a random photo of a painting; this meant something to Doyle as did each and every piece of paper that he had hand selected to give to Jane in the hopes of redemption in Maura's eyes.
"I need to take care of something, guys." Jane grabbed her jacket and tucked the picture into the inside of the coat to protect it. "Follow up on Winter and see if we can get a few others scumbags to fall since Doyle's out of the picture."