So, I'm just gonna go ahead and let y'all know that this chapter is...strange. To me anyway. But, things are about to get shaken up in the next chapter. I'm excited. Are you excited? I hope so. Let me know what ya think. Thanks for sticking around.
Maura had awoken to find herself alone and disoriented in Jane's bed. She let the memories of last night wash over her slowly. The horrible dream which had felt so real, waking up terrified that Jane was gone, her mad flight to Jane's apartment, followed by an awful display of emotion. The medical examiner couldn't believe she'd allowed her feelings to overwhelm her normally logical brain in such a fashion. She remembered being carried to Jane's bed, trying to protest, but not really caring that the detective was holding her so close. She remembered falling asleep held safely in the brunette's arms. But, where was the detective now? Her side of the bed was cool, no body had lain there for at least an hour.
The doctor rolled over onto her side, taking stock of her own physical response. The emotional drain and tension from the night before had caused her muscles to tighten in response, and now the doctor felt stiff and sore. Her head was pounding. Maura needed some water. She needed to see Jane. And, suddenly, that was all she could think of, that she needed to see Jane, needed to touch her again, to feel, once more, that Jane was there.
Maura threw back the covers, steadying herself against the headrush, and then padded down the hall. The jingling of the collar alerted her to Jo Friday's mad dash in her direction and she spared a second to give the little dog a quick pat. "Where's, Jane?" she asked the little dog. Jo turned and led the way towards the kitchen.
And there she was. Maura let out a breath. Jane was sitting at the kitchen counter, her legs folded up against her chest and the newspaper spread open before her. Her brain hair was tangled and puffed ridiculously out around her face, her shoulders were slumped, and there was a trace of periorbital hyperpigmentation, but Maura couldn't have been happier to see anyone. Jane was beautiful. Maura had told Jane before, had dropped it lightly in conversation, a compliment from friend to friend. But, in that moment, Maura realized just how stunning the detective was, even exhausted and stressed out. And, that more than anything, the fact that Maura felt a pull towards the detective, as if Jane were a magnet, in the morning after a rough night when both women were looking decidedly less than their best, clued Maura in to her growing attraction.
Maura stifled her desire, and walked hesitantly into the room, trying not to startle the other woman.
"Good morning, sleepy head," Jane said, setting the paper aside and glancing up at Maura. "I wasn't sure if I should wake you or not. You crashed pretty hard last night."
The similarity of this exchange to the one the two had shared not two mornings ago wasn't lost on the doctor. It was becoming a habit, waking up and finding Jane in the kitchen, coffee in hand. Maura didn't necessarily mind such a habit.
"I'm sorry," she responded.
Jane shrugged. "I get it. You're not the only one who dreams, ya know."
Maura cast a piercing glance at Jane's thin frame, trying to determine if Jane was referencing Hoyt or more recent events. She knew the detective struggled with nightmares, but it wasn't something the two of them ever discussed. Sometimes, Jane would hint at something or drop a specific point in conversation, but they never talked about the dreams outright. So, Maura merely nodded and looked away.
"Do you want to go in to work today?"
"Of course. I'm perfectly fine, Jane."
It was Jane's turn to nod. "Coffee's there," she pointed. "I'm gonna go get ready." Maura was thankful the detective wasn't going to push the topic.
"I should get going. I have to go home and change."
"Just get ready here," Jane suggested. "You've still got a couple of clean outfits around here someplace."
"Well, I-"
"Maur."
And there it was. The doctor didn't know how she did it, but Jane had the ability to convince her with a single word. It wasn't that Jane forced her to do anything or ordered her to do anything. It was simply that the ME absolutely couldn't refuse when Jane said her name in that raspy voice, sounding partly exasperated and also completely in charge.
"Alright."
Jane smiled at her as she headed for the bathroom and Maura smiled back.
An hour later, both women were finally ready for work. Jo had been taken out, a second pot of coffee had been brewed, and Maura had managed to find a dress that with only several minuscule wrinkles. Maura had her hand on the door knob, keys in hand, watching with a bemused expression as Jane ran frantically around the living room looking for her other boot.
"Where is it. I know it's here," the other woman grumbled under her breath. "Aha!" she hoisted the offending shoe in the air in triumph before slipping it on and hopping over to Maura. "Ready to go, doc?"
"Yes, Jane," Maura started to open the door, but Jane pushed it closed again. Maura stared at her in surprise.
"Are you okay? Going to work today will be alright?"
"Of course, Jane. I understand if my irrational behavior was upsetting last night, but I am perfectly fine now."
"I'm trusting you on this one, Maur. You have to tell me if something is wrong, ok?"
Her tear ducts seem to take on lives of their own at the unnaturally soft words, but Maura took several deep breaths to calm herself before answering. "I will. I'll tell you."
Jane runs a finger down the doctor's cheek and breaks into a big grin. "Good." Suddenly, she's grabbed the keys from Maura's hand and is racing out the door and down the stairs. "Race ya!" She calls over her shoulder.
Maura chuckles and follows after her, knowing that Jane will insist on driving in together, even though it makes more sense for them each to have their own vehicle. It's this side of Jane, the silly side, the one who races down the stairs, boots clunking along, a smile on her face, this is Maura's favorite side of the detective. Jane doesn't let her guard down with anyone, but when she acts this way, playful and almost carefree, Maura can't help but go along.
Ten in the morning finds the doctor stuck behind her desk, pouring over old paperwork left from when she was on vacation and Dr. Pike was in charge. Maura is feeling exhausted and her head hurts terribly. She wants to go up to the homicide floor to see Jane, but she doesn't have a reason: the labs aren't in yet. And she can't simply go upstairs to talk to Jane. It would make her feel better, but it would also be suspicious and awkward. Maura needs to a find a reason.
Thankfully, the labs come in not an hour later and Maura flips through them on her way towards the elevator. When she spots the anomaly, the marker, she pauses for a fraction of a second, and then quickens her step. This could be it, this could be the clue Jane and Frost and Korsak need. This piece of information could give them a lead.
Maura bursts out of the elevator and heads directly for Jane's desk. The detective is leaning back in her chair, tossing crumpled up pieces of paper towards the trash can on the floor, and she nearly falls over when Maura comes rushing in. The doctor has a strange sense of delight that she's managed to surprise Jane in such a fashion.
"The labs," Maura says by way of introduction.
Jane raises an eyebrow.
"See. Here," Maura shoves the file under Jane's nose.
"Maur. I'm not fluent in science speak, or lab results. I'm gonna need some interpretation here."
"Oh, right," the blonde feels herself growing flustered, but it's just right there! The clue! And Jane is standing so close, peering over Maura's shoulder now and she can practically feel the outline of the brunette's form brushed against her own and it's driving her crazy and her brain seems to have stopped functioning, and her breathing is growing rapid, and Maura could swear she's about to start hyperventilating because Jane is so close to her and Maura doesn't appear to have any control over her own physiological reactions and -
"Maura. Tell me what the labs say," Jane's voice is calm. Deliberate. Maura sees her exchange a questioning look with Korsak who shrugs in response, and she knows it is because she is acting completely out of character.
"Right," Maura takes in a deep lungful of air, as well as a step away from the detective. She needs to be able to think clearly, and if her body's response to Jane's close proximity is to go into survival mode, she needs her space.
Maura describes the anomaly the labs picked up. How it could lead them to their suspect. And then Detective Frost, whom Maura hadn't noticed until just that moment, jumped in with an added detail, and then Jane is jumping around and making a phone call, and grabbing her jacket, and, "I'll go with Frost. Your keys are on my desk, Maur!" as she and the other two detectives run out the door, suspect in mind.
Maura is left a bit baffled by the suddenness of it all, but she picks up her keys and heads back down to the morgue. There is really nothing left for her to do. A body was delivered by Mass General Hospital earlier in the day for a routine autopsy, but Maura is not the only forensic pathologist working for the Boston PD, and so someone else is handling it. When she'd thought about seeing Jane earlier, she had pictured the two of them getting a cup of coffee from the café, perhaps having lunch together. But now, Jane is out, tracking down a killer, doing what she was born to do, and Maura is once again alone. Alone with her thoughts.
The silence in her office is thick and deafening, and Maura ends up transcribing her own voice recorded notes simply to add some sound to the room. She doesn't want to think about the dream or the fact that she woke up in Jane Rizzoli's bed that morning or the fact that she can't seem to keep her thoughts off of the tall brunette for longer than fifteen minutes at a time. Normally so adept at losing herself in her work, Maura is failing miserably today, and it's draining on her, constantly trying to control her own thoughts. It's causing her head to pound. Maybe she should tell Jane about the headaches, and the dizziness, but as soon as she thinks it, Maura reprimands herself for even considering such an act. The doctor is independent to a fault, and she doesn't want Jane to think of her as weak or incapable. She doesn't want Jane to know that getting over the flu seemed to be the least of her problems.
Maura's thoughts stay on Jane all afternoon, until she decides to head home for the evening. It's been another long day of paperwork and her head is spinning. When she closes up her office and attempts to lock the door behind her, she notices that her hands are shaking, and she seems to have settled into a stupor. Her normal brain function having dropped to a low murmur with the onslaught of another ferocious headache at the base of her skull.
Maura decided to stop by the café on her way out of the precinct. She wanted another cup of coffee for the ride home, even if the caffeine would simply be harmful to her headache. But, when she walks through the glass doors, her eyes immediately land on Jane who is lounging against the counter, rolling her eyes at something Angela Rizzoli had just said. And when Angela sees Maura, she waves and Jane turns. Maura doesn't notice the way Jane's eyes light up as she catches a glimpse of the Medical Examiner, but she does notice her own automatic reaction at the detective's gaze.
Jane saunters over. "We got him, Maur! He's upstairs with Frost and Korsak. You were right!"
"I'm glad, Jane," Maura says demurely looking down at her hands which are clasped tightly together in an attempt to hide their shakiness.
"Hey, you alright?" Jane asks, immediately picking up on the doctor's tense posture.
"It's been a long day. I was just heading home."
"Well, let me drive you."
"No!" Maura feels bad when Jane looks a little taken aback by her harsh tone. "I don't need you to keep taking care of me, Jane. I can drive myself home." Maura doesn't want the detective to take her home even though all she's been craving all day is the taller woman's presence. Her thoughts from earlier are running through her head though. Her fears that Jane will interpret her illness as weakness and will see the medical examiner as pathetic. She doesn't want Jane to see her that way.
But Jane doesn't appear convinced, and suddenly Maura is afraid that by pushing her away, she has upset the detective. That perhaps Jane will rescind their truce and go back to hating her. Maura doesn't know what to do. She is at a loss as to how to explain what it is exactly that she meant by, 'no.' She can feel her legs shaking beneath her and is suddenly afraid that she is going to fall over, fall apart under the watchful gaze of her best friend. The nightmare and all of the heartache and tension and influenza and now the fear that anything she does or says could be enough to send Jane away again land on Maura's shoulders all at once. She wants Jane to take her home more than anything, to stay the night even, and keep the terrors away. She wants Jane so badly that it hurts her. And the realization is crushing and terrifying and while all of these horrible thoughts are running through her mind, Maura is aware that life in the café is going on as usual and Stanley is yelling at Mrs. Rizzoli and Jane is still staring at her with a hurt expression on her face.
"Jane, I-I I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insinuate that I don't appreciate what you've done. Everything you've done for me. That wasn't my intention. I just, I assumed you would like to go home to your own apartment this evening, that you wouldn't like to be my chauffeur any longer. The nightmare last night was simply a reaction to all of the stress. You understand? And I'm perfectly fine," Maura can hear herself rambling, can practically hear the words breaking as they fall from her lips, but she can't stop, because she needs Jane to understand that she wasn't rejecting her, isn't rejecting her.
But suddenly, Jane's arms are around her and the doctor immediately feels calmer and able to control her breathing again. They stay that way for ten seconds, twenty seconds, until Maura reminds herself that they are still in the Boston Police Department and that Detective Jane Rizzoli of Homicide is actually hugging her in front of absolutely everyone. Jane Rizzoli who hates physical contact of any kind. So she pulls away.
"Drive me home?"
"Of course."
Maura forces herself to eat some of the thai food Jane picked up on their way home. She asks Jane about the suspect. About how they caught him. She is content to let Jane talk, spilling random facts about the day and then about how the Red Sox are doing this season. She attempts to stay involved in the conversation, responding when appropriate and injecting her own exclamations of interest whenever there appears to be a pause in Jane's flow. But her near melt down from earlier is still looping through her mind and her head is pounding so horribly that she can hardly hear Jane's words.
Finally, the detective seems to have had enough, because Maura can feel Jane's hand on her shoulder as she says, "C'mon, Maur. Bedtime. I'm pretty sure you didn't hear anything of what I just said because there were, like, thirty grammar mistakes in there that you didn't even try to correct."
Maura forces a grin. "I correct you in my head, Jane."
"Of course you do," Jane says softly, fondly. "But it's bedtime."
"Jane?"
"Yeah?"
"I realize this might be asking quite a lot, but I was wondering if you might consider staying here again tonight?" She asks so quietly she isn't sure if the brunette heard her, but the thoughtful look on Jane's expressive face indicates that she has.
"Sure, Maur." She says finally. "Let me just call Frankie and ask him to let Jo out."
"Thank you," Maura says with a sigh of relief and the detective gives her shoulder a quick squeeze.
"I'll be up in a minute."
Maura makes her way slowly upstairs and brushes her teeth, slipping into her pajamas and hanging her dress in her closet. She is aware that her strange behavior is, as Jane would say, freaking the other woman out. And she should care, but all she can think about is the splitting in her skull, and how safe she felt wrapped in Jane's arms the night before. Maura will talk to Jane to next day, she decides, after they've both had a night to sleep on it. Jane is still high on her arrest, and Maura doesn't want to ruin it for the detective more than she already has.
So, when Jane walks softly into the darkened bedroom, and slips into her side of the bed, Maura doesn't say a word, but merely rolls over, so she is facing the brunette's lanky form. Jane doesn't talk either, and for once, Maura is grateful for Jane's stubbornness, for her desire to avoid confrontation of all conversations that will end up being awkward and uncomfortable. Because, it means that when Jane sighs and reaches out an arm, Maura is free to roll closer, without breaking the silence. That when Jane cuddles into Maura, the doctor doesn't feel the need to explain exactly why the human body feels more relaxed in the arms of another. That when Jane presses a kiss to the top of Maura's head just as the other woman is falling asleep, Maura doesn't feel the need to respond, but simply lets unconsciousness claim her, knowing Jane is there.