A/N: Hiyo! Okay, so yeah, I haven't really been around. Sorry. School started, I've been in college for a month. I've overheard drunken transcendentalist rants and wanted to wring the necks of my classmates already. I also haven't been able to watch the last two episodes of the R&I season because I have no TV and TNT changed their freakin' online viewing policy (what the hell, guys?), but that's neither here nor there.
I can't say that I'll be around very often, but I'll always come back eventually. In return, here's a longer than normal chapter. Hope you likey ;)
Maura Isles was a master of avoidance.
It was a necessary talent that she had developed over the years. She had developed it as a measure of self-preservation since she simply could not lie. But just because she couldn't lie did not mean she had to spill all of her innermost secrets or respond when she would have preferred not to.
No, she simply learned to work her way around statements until she was able to tell the truth in a manner far more suitable to her means.
At the moment, it suited her to avoid Jane as much as humanly possible while she processed her feelings and subsequently berated herself for them. She understood that feelings were not something that could be controlled, but action on the other hand, was different. She could have turned away from that door the other night, backed away slowly and respectfully as soon as she realized what was happening, or at least come clean with Jane about what she had done.
The longer Maura thought about it, the surer Maura was that she could not tell Jane what happened. For one thing, the longer Maura waited to tell her, the angrier Jane was likely to become - Maura knew her friend well enough to be fairly sure of that fact. Secondly, Maura was also fairly confident that she could not get through that particular conversation without suffering from tachycardia and passing out.
And so, Maura Isles chose avoidance.
Although, there were times when her mere verbal avoidance was not enough. In which case, she took to physical avoidance, dodging whatever or whoever she had to with the single-minded determination she put into everything else she did, whether it was performing an autopsy or choosing the perfect accessories to complement her outfit.
But Maura could not stall and fum-fur and dodge and parry her way around Jane Rizzoli for very long, especially when the detective honed in on her with that single-minded determination that made her so good at her job. So even if Maura wanted to - and she desperately wanted to because the dreams she was having about that night, only with her recast as the object of Jane's attention - she could not stay away from Jane for very long. There was always something.
Maura would debate it as it didn't seem logical without facts and evidence to back it up, but life seemed to have a way of pushing you in ways it wanted you to go, as though it were a sea's current and you were simply the hopeless drifter, floating along on a piece of driftwood. Until you washed up on an unintended shore and you began to realize that you could either sit there and complain about your placement, or you could try to survive or, quite possibly, thrive.
Which was how, after a grueling case, Jane ended up at Maura's house. The instant Maura saw Jane, darkened nasojugal folds and normally beautifully unruly curls falling out of place and sagging into semi-straightness, looking exhausted. In short, Jane was mess, and she had every right to be.
A string of murders – five of them, in fact – all with the same M.O. and within the span of only two weeks had forced Boston homicide to work around the clock trying to find the killer, and Maura could tell from the look of her that Jane hadn't slept properly since the second body. It wasn't until the killer slipped up and was forced to rush through his ritual with his last victim and ended up leaving being a partial print, that they were able to catch him.
And now Jane, whose heart went out to the families and friends of the dead, was spent, and the last thing she wanted to be was alone, because being alone meant letting the case ruminate in her mind even more. She wanted to be near Maura, someone who understood and wouldn't ask too many questions until Jane was ready, someone who could keep away the nightmares and bad thoughts, or at least calm her down enough so she could get back to sleep. She felt out of sorts, of place, like she was emotionally disjointed. All she needed was someone to watch over her while she put the pieces back together.
Maura was that person. Maura was her person.
As soon as Maura opened the door and took in Jane's appearance, she gasped. On top of her worn-down appearance, Jane actually appearing on her doorstep was surprising. Maura had thought Jane would have given up on her by now.
Jane almost looked pitiable as she spoke. Almost - for Jane Rizzoli was never one to be pitied, so long as there was still breath in her body. "I'm sorry for whatever I did, Maura. I swear I am, and I'll give you a better apology and make it up to you for real later, but right now-"
Maura shushed her. She pressed a finger to the detective's lips to stop her. Jane didn't need to say another word, especially when she had nothing to apologize for. Of course Jane hadn't given up on her. The least Maura could do was return the favor.
After helping her friend inside and making sure she at least ate something light, Maura retire for the evening alongside Jane. She'd thought about her and Jane separating to their respective rooms for the night, but Maura got the impression that that wasn't was Jane had gone there for. She also got the impression that Jane had come to Maura and not… someone else for a specific reason, but Maura was ever one for speculation.
Laying there in her bed with Jane Rizzoli huddled into her side, Maura realized she was also never one for emotions, and yet here she was, acting as a shelter in Jane's emotional storm. She turned to face the detective in the middle of a fitful sleep and placed her arm over her side.
Maura still didn't have all the answers, for her own questions and the ones Jane probably had, and normally that would have upset her, but for now, she was fine. Snuggled into Jane's back in the warmth of the bed and darkness of the room, she felt right. A little guilty, yes, but right all the same. She'd deal with the mess in the morning.
Jane woke up a familiar position, wrapped around a curved warm body, content with a general since of satisfaction.
She rolled over and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before looking at her surroundings. She was not where she thought she was. A quick glance to her right showed that she was not in bed with who she thought she was either.
Jane recalled toying with the idea of going to Maura's and asking if she could spend the night, but Maura had been so distant all week that she even sure Maura would open the door for her, let alone let her in. But Jane had been so distraught last night that after wandering around for a while, Maura's house began to look more and more like a good idea.
Somewhere along the line, as the night wore on and Jane became more desperate, that good but not really good idea had become more and more feasible and here she was now: lying, wrapped around Maura in a cocoon of intimacy she had only previously dreamed of.
As nice as her current position was, Jane knew she had to move, if for no other reason than Maura's comfort. While the medical examiner had been accommodating last night, Jane didn't want to risk that Maura had only been so nice out of pity. Jane wanted neither pity nor to overstay her welcome, but she was grateful to have been let in all the same.
Quietly as possible, so as not to wake her host, Jane slipped out of bed and pulled on her clothes. Before she left the room, though, she stopped and peered over at Maura, who was dozing serenely, huddled into Jane's warm but now empty spot in the bed. Just the sight of her, curled up in white sheets and content in her sleep, was enough to make Jane smile. The detective leaned down and placed a kiss on the doctor's forehead.
"Sleep tight, sweetie."
When Jane came back from a long walk with Joe Friday – the detective's apology to the small dog for having left her alone all night – Marisa was outside of her door.
"Hey," Jane said nonchalantly as her dog excitedly scampered over to the familiar woman.
"Hey," the law student greeted back, giving Joe a belly rub and watching her enjoyment out of the corner of her eye. "I was looking for you last night. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. I heard about the case, well, I saw the news and the case was on. Y-you weren't on the news, but when I you had to cancel on me and I hadn't seen you for a few days, I figured you might have been working."
"Yeah, sorry I didn't return your calls."
Marisa shook her head dismissively. "It's no problem. I was just… a little worried about you. I'm glad you're okay." She trying very hard at moment, doing her best to seem aloof and unconcerned with Jane and her wellbeing, but the sudden closeness – both physical and otherwise – she'd begun to have with the detective was overriding that.
The hard-to-get/ take-it-easy approach to dating and casual sex was starting to get a little emotionally confusing. Suddenly, and unintentionally, an attachment was growing within the grad student. It was unintentional, because, really, Marisa never expected 1) that Jane would even be interested in her, she'd always assumed she was dating that doctor, or 2) that Jane would be any more that kind of strong loner type who just blows around in the breeze like the mysterious hero in an old Western movie.
Instinctually, something about Jane told her not to get to attached the idea of the detective. It wasn't that she questioned the older woman's morals, or even whether or not she was a bad person, but there was just something that told her be wary.
And yet, here she was. Worrying about Jane and hoping that Jane would call. Hoping that Jane could understand her worry and want to assuage it.
Goddamit. This all felt so high school. Time to pick your pride up off the floor, Marisa.
"Anyway, I'll see you around," the law student said, turning to head back into her apartment.
" 'Risa, wait," Jane said, placing her hand on the younger woman's wrist. "I just had a bad time with the case, you know. It took a lot out of me, and I didn't think would be fair if I came to you with that baggage. You didn't sign up for a cop's life, I did, and I try to keep my friends and family as much away from that part of my life as possible. It doesn't always turn out that well, but I try."
Marisa's hand covered Jane's on her wrist. "It's okay, really, I understand. I'm just glad you're safe. I understand the needing space thing."
"Yeah, and it's just that Maura's already kind of involved in the work stuff, so it's kind of like commiserating. Sort of."
That raised an eye brow.
"Maura?" Marisa repeated. "You were with Maura last night?"
"Yeah…" Jane said cagily, as though she suddenly realized the underlying implication. Not mention, Marisa had thought the two of them were dating not even a month ago. "I mean, that's what we do, you know. She's my best friend and we commiserate on bad cases. You know?"
Jane was falling into an old nervous speech pattern of hers. It wasn't something that happened often, but when it did, it was rather obvious and a little embarrassing, her Southie accent picking up with a vengeance.
"Yeah, I know," Marisa said guardedly, her hand and wrist slipping away from Jane's touch.
"No, wait, it's not like that. Whatever it is you're thinking, it's wrong."
"I'm not thinking anything, Jane. I've been up all night, I'm tired, I want to go to bed, that is all I'm thinking about right now. What you're thinking about, however…" she trailed off in insinuation.
Jane sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. She was tired as well, and her frustration was growing by the second. Where did Marisa get this stuff from? Where did everyone else get it from, in the first place?
"I'm tired of people thinking there's something going on between me and Maura. There's nothing happening. I just spent the night at her house, it happens all the time, except lately because I've been spending pretty much all my free time with you, okay? There is nothing at all happening with my and Maura. She's just my best friend. I don't even think she likes women."
"But you do," Marisa pointed out.
"And so do you!" Jane retorted, on the verge of pulling out her hair. "But what the fuck does that have to do with anything? At all. Seriously, is there something you need to tell me that I'm just not getting? 'Cause really, since you and everyone else seem to know so much about me and Maura's love life, maybe you'd like to give me a clue, a hint, a fucking idea as to what it is you all think you see."
Marisa shook her head, too worn out to keep this battle up any longer. Maybe she was really was making something out of nothing.
"I don't know Jane, you're right, I'm probably just being delirious. I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking." The law student found a sudden interest in her fuzzy pink slippers, the hallway's unattractive carpet, anything but Jane's gaze at the moment.
Jane too was recoiling from the conversation and sinking into awkwardness.
"So," she said in an attempt to be casual. "I'll call you?" It was question, for sure. She wasn't certain exactly where this left them at the moment.
"Yeah," Marisa nodded. "You'll call me." She rose on her tip toes to kiss Jane at the corner of her mouth before disappearing into her apartment.
Jane led Joe back into the apartment. She fed and watered the dog and checked on Watson in his glass cage. Afterwards, she turned to her room and quickly dropped down on to the bed with her face in her hands. She felt a sudden headache coming on.