A/N - Happy New Years, readers. Thanks to all of the readers who've story alerted, fav'd, and reviewed. Read, review, enjoy.
Jane ogled in a mixture of awe and immeasurable envy at Bass's intimate moment with the blonde doctor. God, what is wrong with me? Am I really so tired that I'm becoming jealous of a tortoise? Subconsciously, she ran her hand through her tangled locks as anxiety began flooding her veins.
Even before the shooting, Jane had been feeling an undeniable wave of nervousness working through her intestines every time Maura was near. Their furtive glances and seemingly platonic exchanges had always been a trademark of their friendship, but even Jane had begun to notice the burgeoning sexual tension developing between them. Working with Maura on cases was bearable because of the focus on catching killers but these kinds of personal visits had been curtailed.
The minutes passed at the same pace of Bass's movements as Maura continued to purr at her reptilian friend; Jane felt like she was trapped in an oven that kept getting hotter and hotter with each firm step of Maura's candy-apple red Monolo Blahniks on her hardwood floor. God, damn it, does the woman buy her heels from Lets_Make_Jane_Rizzoli_ or maybe it's not the heels. Maybe it's her…
A silent moan hit the brunette's lips as she hid underneath the covers of her childhood comforter, reddened eyes hidden from Maura's view. Jane had always relished in her identity as the tough-as-nails homicide detective but if Maura saw her crying… How she could ever go back to BPD with her head held high? But it wasn't just pride that forced her to cover her tear-stained face from her best-friend. Just admit it. I want to get to know Maura Isles on a deeper level that involves late-night discussions over who's hogging the sheets, which inevitably leads to sweaty exploration and maybe, if she's vocal, a little moaning and screaming…
Jane was finding it impossible to repress these desires for her best friend. Without a case to keep her mind preoccupied, Jane's mind traveled from her mother's endless hovering to Maura's soft slightly freckled skin and her willowy grace in endless varieties of stilettos, sling-backs, and peep-toes. No matter how much she lusted after Maura Isles, there was no way she could sleep with a woman. Had she thought about it before this point? Yes, but any self-respecting female with a healthy understanding of her sexuality has thought about women in a sexual manner once or twice, but this infatuation with Maura had passed being normal during the events of last month that had put her in the hospital.
That day had ended up being the last day for eight people; three of those people were civilians. Frankie would have made the total nine if she hadn't made the decision to shoot herself in order to incapacitate her captor. Even with Maura's quick medical MacGyver that prevented Frankie's immediate death, Jane remembered that, in that moment, nothing else mattered except saving her brother's life, no matter the sacrifice. His collapsed lung practically ensured Frankie's untimely death, unless she did something drastic and, in Jane's fear warped mind, losing Frankie would tear the family apart much more than her own death. In a spilt second, the life-altering decision was made as she half led/fought with her captor toward the police stand-off outside of BPD.
"Save Frankie, save Frankie, save Frankie." Her trained mind repeated incessantly in her fractured mind as the heat sliced through skin, muscle, and through her defenseless captor; with the release of her captor's grip and her fall back to earth, came another mantra. "Maura, Maura, Maura."
She had hardly a second of coherence as the unbelievable pain annihilated her consciousness. The ensuing chaos flashed before Jane's eyes as each thread of her memory connected to that one moment of semi-clarity: the feel of Maura's comforting presence as the ambulance raced through the crowded Boston streets with abandon. Everything is going to be okay, Jane. The blonde's rambling words of comfort gave her the strength to keep fighting for each difficult breath in that cramped ambulance. Statistically your odds of dying, Jane, are slim, you know that and I know that; but that doesn't mean you should stop fighting for me, okay? I'm not letting you go. I'll be with you every step of the way but…I need to know, I need to know you're not going to give up, Jane. Please promise me…
Jane couldn't respond as the struggle became too difficult, darkness swallowing her entire existence until she woke up two weeks later from a medically induced coma. The memory of trying to hold onto Maura's fading presence always overwhelmed her with a level of exhaustion she had never felt before. As much as it pained the brunette to acknowledge her period of weakness, it nearly killed her to accept that no one could have comforted her in the way that Maura did that day. I needed her survive and she needed me to live.
Once she woke up in the hospital, Jane was instantly surrounded by her mother's tearful hugs as she raced between Frankie's room and mine, however, Maura was absent. Two weeks of mandatory physical therapy and Maura was still, conspicuously absent. Thoughts ran havoc through her sanity as Jane realized that she had been abandoned by the very same woman she needed most of all to assure her that everything was going to be okay. Somehow, the naïve blonde doctor had become the pillar of strength that she didn't even know she needed and, with that title, came a slew of unwelcome emotions that Jane loved yet hated.
After jumping through various hoops, Jane had finally assured Dr. Byron "Uckey" Sluckey that she was well enough to continue healing at home and she was finally allowed to return to the cluttered comfortableness of her apartment. She had refused her mother's assistance in driving her back home and couldn't bear the embarrassment of having Maura see this fragile side of her personality so, with reluctance, Jane called a cab. The cab ride would have been tolerable, if not for the driver's appraising look of apprehension upon seeing the brunette's haggard face.
Opening the door to her apartment had taken more effort than usual but, after a mighty duel of annoyance, the defeated wooden barrier finally gave way. The same clutter of unfolded clean clothes that had been left haphazardly on the couch the morning of the shooting greeted Jane along with the unexpectedly inviting image of Maura playing innocently with Jo. She couldn't find the ability to speak as Maura turned around with a shocked grimace that was impossible for the seasoned detective to read correctly. Even with her exhaustion addled brain, Jane felt the tides of change splashing toward her body. Pain travelled up her side with each breath, expectation shaking her weakened body.
"You really should be back in the hospital, Jane. Nearly sixty-three percent of released patients from serious injuries reported wanting to return back to the hospital after seven weeks of unsupervised home-care which was up nearly fifteen percent from patients who stayed the suggested term as dictated by a licensed physician."
Jane Rizzoli's bag dropped as her brain reprogramed to handle the potential conundrum that was Maura Isles. "And I needed to know that because?"
"Because it was hard enough being worried about your health in a fully equipped hospital with around-the-clock care but now that you've checked yourself out of the hospital to sit on your couch and eat unhealthy potato chips with high levels of saturated fats and empty calories, now I have to worry about you hurting yourself with no help," Maura said exasperatedly with a resolved sigh. "But I guess there's no point trying to reason with you, Jane. Once you've made your mind up about something, nothing can stop you."
She angrily stepped forward, but after seeing the frustration in Maura's eyes shift slightly into fear, Jane quickly stepped back. "I'm tired."
"You don't think I'm tired?" Maura spat back.
"Well," Jane said, cracking the various kinks in her tight neck, "last time I checked, you weren't shot by a .22 caliber bullet so, no, I don't think you could be nearly as tired as I am right now, Maura."
"I guess you're right. What would I know about pain and hurting since I've had everything given to me with a silver spoon?" Maura's voice cracked slightly as the tears began to flow freely upon her classical features, unnoticed by the tired homicide detective. "I've been hurting just as much as you have, Jane. Just because I don't bury my feelings away into my subconscious under the guise of following some preordained blue-wall-of-silence, doesn't mean that I haven't been thinking about you with every passing day. All of sudden, your presence was gone; you can't imagine how many times I stared at my door, hoping you'd come in to the lab and flash me that cocky smile of yours.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you, really I am. But…I'm tired of worrying. I'm tired of going through every day feeling something similar to a myocardial infarction every time the phone rings...I never assume, Jane, but lately that's all I've been doing. What's wrong with me? I can't sleep, my heart races, and I've developed a case of constant dyspnea every time I think about you."
Jane's mind swirled as she collapsed unto her worn-in couch. Her mind struggled to understand the vocabulary that Maura loved to use. Light tapping of the blonde doctor's conservative maroon platform pumps echoed in the small space, a sigh coming from her lips as Maura leaned her Yves Saint Laurent covered hip on the somewhat dusty kitchen island.
"You've developed a constant state of what? And what's a myocardial infarction?" Jane said exasperatedly as the sleep began to overtake her, the warmth of the apartment combining irresistibly with the welcoming worn fabric of her couch.
Maura was mute as she began to pace while Jo sat quietly following the blonde's movements. "A constant state of dyspnea is breathlessness and a myocardial infarction is a heart attack. You do know what a heart attack is?"
"You're so funny, Maura, that sometimes I forget to laugh. And do you think you could," a yawn broke from Jane's mouth interrupting her sarcastic comment, "stop pacing in front of my dog? Jo is easily influenced. Next thing I know, she'll be pacing up and down my apartment and I'll have to get her anti-anxiety pills for dogs, which probably cost more than my rent."
Rolling her eyes in ignorance, Maura continued pacing for several minutes, leaving Jane time to take off her shoes before pushing the basket of unfolded clothes on the floor and swallowing herself up in the welcoming sheets left on the couch before the shooting. Immediately, her restless nerves calmed and her fiercely aching wound stopped pulsating waves of jaw-grinding pain through the brunette's slight frame.
Jane's eyes began to close as she readied herself for the first night of restful sleep she'd had since the shooting but, in typical fashion, Maura awakened her with a shout of surprise. "Oh no…no, this can't be happening. Shortness of breath, racing heart, insomnia…they all point to one diagnosis. But that can't be right. You're my best friend; I couldn't possibly be in love-"
"I love you too," the tired brunette interrupted sleepily, "now, could you please leave before I sick my dog on you?"
It was next to impossible to remember anything after her last comment no matter how many times she racked her brain for the details. After that night, everything between the two of them returned to a level of semi-normalcy that was bearable. Nothing had been addressed concerning Maura's behavior that night or what happened in the ambulance; Jane frequently cursed herself for her inability to bring either incident up. As much as she wanted to talk to Maura about what happened between them, Maura kept making it perfectly clear that she didn't want to talk about it.
It never happened. Your analgesic dosage must be too high…it's making you delusional, Jane. I strongly encourage you to talk to Dr. Sluckey about changing the recipe to create a better fit for your metabolism. Continuing to ignore problems with your medications will result in further handicaps, both mental and physical. How will the captain reinstate you if you're handicapped?
But it did happen, Jane repeated each morning she woke up and each night she willed her body to sleep. Unlike her best friend, she couldn't ignore what had happened. Their friendship meant more to her than that, but, despite her need to have a meaningful discussion with Maura, Jane was finding it impossibly difficult as the right moment failed to arise, given their conflicting schedules. The mandatory psych evaluations and continuing physical therapy sessions made free time a luxury for the exhausted brunette, the never-ending lonely days melting away into painful exhausted nights spent doing the callisthenic exercises to build her muscles back up, staring aimlessly at the Home Shopping Network, and answering texts and calls from mostly unknown well-wishers from the BPD and the media. Each passing day made Jane a little bit stronger and a little bit more ready to return to the job, but her attraction to Maura, meanwhile, had festered into a full-blown infatuation bordering on obsession. Something had to be done concerning their rapidly changing relationship and quickly.