Author Note: Can I please clarify that this fic is a Nina/Jane fic and it is clearly stated as such. Some people seem to be surprised by it, but I don't think I could have made it that much clearer.
I'm off to the USA today, so this may be my last update for a little while - it depends how much writing I find time to do when I'm out there. I have so many other plans, so writing will be on the back burner for a while. I hope you all have a great three weeks.
On the other side of the door, Nina stood, her face flushed and her eyes puffed out. Jane's shoulders sunk. They hadn't seen each other since the night before last. Nina had called in sick when requested for the case at New Years and didn't return that morning. Jane had barely arrived home from work. New evidence and hundreds of witnesses made the case more complex than anticipated. Her mind had been pulled away from everything else she had to think about.
Until Nina turned up looking like she'd been run over by a tractor.
They stared at each other like they were in a staring contest, waiting for the moment when one of them gave in. Jane opened her mouth to speak when Nina pressed her hands against Jane's hips and enveloped her mouth in her own. Jane took a step backwards into the apartment. Nina pushed the door closed with her foot, her hands already sliding under the fabric of Jane's blouse. She reached out and pushed them away, pulling out of the passionate embrace. Nina stepped forwards again, capturing Jane's lips. She allowed her mouth to follow the lead briefly.
When Jane stepped backwards again, Nina stood frozen in front of her. Her face crumbled and her eyes filled with tears.
"I'm not going to take advantage of you when you're obviously upset," Jane said, reaching out for Nina's hand. She held it between her own.
"I didn't know where else to go," she said, wiping at tears that only continued to fall. "I don't have any family here, I can't spend today alone."
Jane tilted her head to one side. Everything they'd been through together recently had been frivolous and care free. Emotions, of any kind, had been kept at a distance. Seeing Nina so upset hit Jane right where it hurt the most. She didn't want to care about what they were doing. But she couldn't not. She closed the gap, wrapping her arms around Nina's shoulders. Sex or not, Nina was her friend.
"I've never been very good at the emotional thing," Jane said a few minutes later, handing Nina a mug of coffee and sitting on the couch beside her. "But if you need someone to talk to, I'm not a bad listener."
"I do this every year," Nina said, sipping the hot coffee. The tears had ceased, but her eyes were still puffy. "I don't think I'll ever get over what happened to my fiancé."
"Is that why you joined homicide?"
"I guess so." She wrapped both hands around the mug. "I wanted to make a difference."
"Don't we all," said Jane. She reached a hand out to Nina's thigh and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry for making the ridiculous jokes about shooting you, they weren't funny. Not when you've been through what you went through with your fiancé. You know I didn't mean it, don't you?"
Nina nodded and reached for Jane's hand. She wrapped her hands around Jane's and stared at their fingers. "You see this?" Jane shook her head. Nina held their hands up in front of her face. White skin and black skin tangled up together. "We're different. But that's okay. We don't care, we don't see the difference, we see what makes us ourselves. We don't define each other by our gender, or our race, or our sexual orientation."
"I'm not following," Jane said. "So, I'm white, you're black, you're bisexual, I'm, whatever I am, what does any of it matter?"
"What we have to face at work, with the old school detectives." Nina sighed. "I've seen the way some of them treat younger women, especially younger female cops; the comments, the glares, the idea that being female makes them any less of a good cop. Why would either of us want to tell them we're different?"
"You mean, that we like to have sex with women?"
"We both know what would happen if people found out. The homophobia, the stares, I'm not ready for that, and I don't think you are either. Maybe the joke wasn't funny, maybe it was misplaced. But I understand why you said it."
Jane opened her mouth to respond when her cellphone sang out across the room, buzzing against the kitchen counter. She stood, stepped across the room, and retrieved it before it fell off the edge.
"Rizzoli."
The bullpen was a hive of activity when Jane walked in. Korsak sat behind his desk looking quizzically at his computer. Frankie walked in behind her.
"What's going on?" Jane asked.
"You're both needed in interview room one," he said, barely glancing up.
Frankie rested his hands on his hips. "Have we got a suspect?"
"Quit yapping," Korsak said, returning his full attention to the computer.
Jane turned to walk out of the room and marched across the corridor to the interview room. She could feel Frankie struggling to keep up. If she was going to be pulled away from a brief moment of personal time whilst uniform went through the witnesses, there had to be a good reason for it.
She reached out for the door handle without looking through the glass door. On the other side she expected a suspect, but what she found made her step backwards, colliding with Frankie. Maura was sitting at the table.
"Move out of my way," Jane snapped.
Frankie pushed past her and entered the room, scooping Maura up into his arms. Jane hovered by the doorway, her heart drumming so loud she wondered if anyone else could hear it.
"It's great to see you," Frankie said. "I'm so sorry about your father."
"It's good to see you, too," said Maura, pulling out of the embrace. "Thank you."
The sadness in Maura's eyes broke Jane's heart. She wanted to repeat Frankie's message of condolence, she wanted to reach out and hold Maura like a best friend should. She willed her body to react the way it needed to, yet her feet and mouth wouldn't move.
"Jane," Maura said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes; a crease settled between them. A lump formed in the back of Jane's throat. The last thing she wanted was to cry in front of her.
"I'd best get back," Frankie said, noticing the tension that settled over the room.
He slipped past Jane, his eyes hovering on her face, before he pulled the door closed behind him. She stared at Maura, her brown eyes trained on Maura's hazel ones. She swallowed, pushing down the need to let go of everything she felt.
"I can't," Jane said, shaking her head. She reached for the handle of the door and hesitated, waiting momentarily for Maura to stop her from walking out of the room. She desperately wanted her to stop her from leaving. When she didn't respond, Jane pulled on the handle and rushed out of the room.