AN: Hi, guys. So. I'm baaaack! Wahoo! I am SO terribly sorry for the horribly long wait. Exams. Life. Holidays. "Christmas Homecomings" Excuses, all, but reasonable ones I think. But, I am super grateful for all your kind...and not so kind...reviews, and messages of encouragement, and demands, and everything. I hope some of y'all have stuck around and are still reading, because it means a whole heck of a lot, and you cannot know how grateful I am for all of the support this story has garned. 500 reviews! Holy hell.
Anyway, this chapter is long, as a kind of make up for my mini-hiatus. And it has NOT been proofed all that well because it's really late and I just want to post the damn thing already. Review away, however. Thanks for hanging around, and if you're just joining us, "Welcome!" Love.
Maura tried, and failed to suppress the shiver that made it's way down her spine. She glanced from the medical journal in her hands down to the tubing snaking it's way out of the crook of her arm and up to the drugs being pumped into her body. Temozolomide. Carboplatin. Vincristine. Drugs that she had researched thoroughly before agreeing to allow into her system, because really, when it came down to it, they were poisons. Toxins that were supposed to kill the "bad stuff," as Jane called it, but actually took along quite a lot of helpful "stuff," too. Maura smiled at the thought of the detective, and looked over to where the brunette was trying to pretend she hadn't just been staring at the the ME.
"You're cold," the detective's voice was hoarse from disuse.
They'd been sitting there for two hours, without speaking. At first, Maura had been worried that Jane would attempt to fill the time with small talk, but she should have known better. The detective was feeling out of place in the hospital, uncomfortable. But she'd managed to stifle her desire to bolt and had insisted on accompanying Maura to her first chemotherapy treatment, for which the doctor had been secretly grateful, and relieved. And ever since they'd taken seats, Maura in a large, arm chair-like orange piece of furniture, and Jane in one of the standard issue, hard backed visitors chairs, they'd remained in this state of casual silence. Neither had anything pressing that needed to be said. Jane had gotten most of her questions out during the few appointments Maura had had over the last few days, and in the car on the way to Massachusetts General. There wasn't any extremely pressing case going on at work to mull over either. So now, the only thing left to do was sit quietly and allow the medicine time to do its work.
They were used to spending time together without having to fill the air with mindless chatter. It was one thing Maura lik-loved the most about her friendship with Jane. There was never any awkward pause or unnecessary conversation as could usually be found in social situations. The detective could always tell when the blonde wished to mull something over privately, or when she wanted to talk a problem out allowed. It was one of the many facets of Jane's complex character that the medical examiner so greatly appreciated.
She jerked herself out of her reverie to answer, "Yes." There was no point in lying. Jane, although she may have been pretending to be engrossed in some silly game on her phone, had been watching Maura like a hawk ever since the nurse had inserted the IV. She didn't mind though. It was simply who Jane was.
Jane nodded. This side effect had been a somewhat expected one, but even so, Maura was surprised when Jane pulled a blanket out of the large bag at her side and stood from her seat. "I thought it was better to be prepared," she said, somewhat sheepishly, and Maura couldn't help but give her a dimpled grin. Jane indicated with her hands and the blonde lifted her arms gingerly, trying not to disturb the needle, so Jane could lay the throw gently over her lap. Maura felt unexpected tears prick at her eyes at the tenderness accompanying the action. Sometimes it was challenging to remember that Jane could move so slowly, so cautiously, lovingly. It never failed to amaze the honey blonde at the amount of compassion and care contained in the other woman.
"Thank you," she murmured, as Jane moved away again and resumed her seat. Maura missed the closeness immediately. The lanky woman shrugged it off, but Maura could tell she was pleased.
An hour later, Maura could feel her eyes growing heavy. It was more challenging to stay focused on the small print in a journal than it had been just several days before. Her vision was less clear, and she had found herself squinting on several occasions. There had been a constant flow of patients and nurses and family members in and out of the treatment room. Jane had occupied herself for the past several hours by studying the steady traffic, but Maura had chosen to focus instead on catching up on several journals she'd been putting off. It wasn't that she didn't want to people watch or to socialize. The woman sitting closest to her had given her a wide smile as she got situated, but Maura had studiously avoided the gaze, not desiring to be drawn into a conversation. She was simply feeling slightly uncomfortable in such an exposed location. She was still attempting to come to terms with the process her body was putting her through, and she wasn't exactly sure what proper protocol was in social situations such as the one she and Jane found themselves in. But now, with an hour to go still, she could feel her body tiring quickly. She hadn't believed it would be possible to fall asleep in the chair, during a treatment, but it appeared she had been incorrect. Sighing, the blonde marked her page and set the journal down on her lap, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. She could feel Jane's searching gaze on her, so she forced her lips into some semblance of a reassuring smile.
"Tired?" Jane murmured, low enough that it only reached Maura's ears.
The blonde nodded, eyes still shut. Maura heard Jane slide her chair closer and then the detective's rough palm was sliding into her own like it was second nature. Jane lifted Maura's hand into her lap and started rubbing her thumb in soothing circles over the back of it. The doctor could feel her body relaxing at the touch, tension that she hadn't even recognized leaving her as Jane continued her silent ministrations. Her body grew heavier as she let her thoughts drift. She felt so content knowing Jane was there, even as the chemotherapy ran through her body, spreading toxins through her veins, trying to destroy rebellious cells that had taken root. She allowed Jane's presence to soothe away her anxieties for the time being.
She heard Ryan's voice as if from far away, muffled through her sleepy haze, and Jane's mumbled responses. She knew that she should move, open her eyes, engage. That he was here to check on her, but she didn't want to pull herself all the way out of sleep, or disrupt the soothing action Jane was still engaged in.
"How's she doing?"
"Good so far. I think. I don't really know," she felt Jane's shrug, and could picture how Ryan would nod thoughtfully in response.
"Well, the first time can be different for everyone."
A pause.
"And after..." It was a question.
"It affects everyone differently," he said patiently. They'd had this discussion before. "Some hardly notice, some are nauseous immediately. Others don't show any side effects until the next day. It could go either way."
"Well, I'll be there. No matter what," there is a fierce determination underlying Jane's simple statement. It makes Maura's heart rate increase in response.
Dr. Wilde seems to hear it as well because he chuckles slightly. "She's lucky to have you."
The blonde feels Jane's thumb still and then resume its soothing movement. "No," she disagrees, and Maura almost stops breathing, trying to hear the detective's quiet, yet sure, response. "I'm the lucky one."
Another moment of silence while the two other people appear to be watching her. She forces herself to maintain her sleepy stillness. "You'll call, if anything comes up?" Ryan asks. "You have my number?"
"Sure, Doc. Yeah. We'll just have to see how it goes."
"Anything, Detective," he says again.
"It's Jane," she encourages.
"Ryan, then."
They've been civil with one another, both aiming for the same goal. An answer, a magical cure. Anything. Focused on Maura. But the patient knows that they would get along, if they met outside of this situation. They might even like one another...romantically. She has to fight down the jealous feeling that surges inside of her at the thought. Jane isn't hers, she reminds herself. No matter how her feelings may have changed, Jane has never shown any interest in women. And they are best friends. That hasn't changed. Maura doesn't want it to change. Anyway, it pleases her to hear Jane attempting to attain a more relaxed relationship with her neurologist. It's one of Jane's magical talents: putting people at ease.
She brings herself back to the conversation at hand. She's missed the rest of the exchange and Ryan is leaving. "Tell her I stopped by?"
"Of course. Thanks, Do-Ryan."
"Anytime."
"Let me know how it goes in the next few hours. I'll see you both on Monday?"
"We'll be here."
"Alright. Take care, Jane. She isn't the only one who needs to keep her strength up."
"Thanks, Doc." And he's gone. They are alone again.
Maura feels her body pulling her under once more. Rather than expend the energy necessary to remain awake, she allows sleep to take her, Jane by her side.
Jane's soft touch to her cheek woke her not too much later. There was a nurse heading their way. Ann, Maura remembered her name groggily.
"All done," Jane said quietly. "Did you have a nice nap?"
Maura nodded.
"Dr. Wilde stopped by. He said to say hey."
The blonde didn't tell Jane that she'd been mostly alert during their conversation.
"Well, looks like it went well," Ann said briskly. She was a petite woman with short grey hair, who bounced when she walked and spoke faster than the average person. She looked like someone who hadn't stopped moving in her entire sixty years of life. But she had a kind face, and she seemed to have taken a liking to the pair when she was getting Maura set up earlier.
"How are you feeling?" she asked Maura, looking her up and down.
Maura took stock. She felt alright, still a bit chilled, but that was not unexpected. They had no way of knowing how her body would react to the cocktail of drugs now making their way through her system until after the fact. "I'm okay," she told the nurse, but looking at Jane while she said it, making sure to meet the chocolate gaze firmly.
"Well good. And your friend here is taking you home?"
"Yes, ma'am," Jane jumped in quickly.
"Don't you go calling me that again, missy. It makes me sound old," she ordered, wagging a finger playfully in the brunette's direction. Jane smirked back.
"Wouldn't dream of it," the ma'am seemed to be on the tip of the mischievous detective's tongue, but she held it in at one look from the nurse.
Maura smiled at their playful banter. She pulled the blanket off of her lap after Ann had pulled out the IV and made as though to stand. Jane was at her side in an instant, offering a hand up, yet still managing to seem unassuming and out of the way. Maura grasped it firmly, thankfully. She didn't want to succumb to a head rush after sitting still for the past five hours.
"So, I'll be seeing you two on Monday, then?" Ann questioned, watching as Jane held picked up the bag from the floor, still holding onto Maura's hand.
"Oh, I don't know if Jane will be he-"
"We'll both be here," the brunette cut her off smoothly. Maura glanced at her. They hadn't really talked about it yet. Maura was her own boss. She could afford to take the afternoons off three days a week and finish up paperwork from home in the evenings. If a murder was called in, one of the others from the morgue could handle it. But for Jane, it was a different story. She wondered if Jane had cleared it with Cavenaugh yet. "I've got quite a bit of leave built up," she explained for Maura's benefit. "A couple of afternoons, eh," she waved it off.
"Jane," the blonde said, a warning tone evident in her voice. She didn't want to force the detective to miss any more time than she already had.
"It's alright, Maur," Jane reassured her. "Really. We can always work something out, okay?"
The blonde stared at her, trying to determine if Jane was really as unbothered by the thought of missing work as she seemed to be. There was no uncertainty in that brown eyed gaze. "Alright. We'll talk about it at home then."
"Perfect!" Jane turned back to Ann who had been watching the entire conversation with a twinkle in her eye. "Well, until next week then, Ann! It's been a pleasure meeting you," Jane gave a ridiculous half bow.
"Good grief," Ann muttered. "This one's a handful isn't she?" she stage whispered to the doctor, and Maura giggled. Jane smirked.
"She keeps me in line," the detective squeezed Maura's hand firmly.
"I do," Maura affirmed. "Or at least, I attempt to."
Ann patted her on the back understandingly. "Well, good luck with her then. And you. Take care of her," Ann said firmly to Jane. "She's one of the good ones. I can already tell."
"You've got that right," Jane's voice was soft in response. Maura couldn't quite decipher the look in Jane's eye. It was affectionate, but the intensity of Jane's answer made her start.
"Now get out of here," Ann shooed them towards the doorway. "Go home. Get that child some food. She looks like she's about to fall over."
"Yes, boss," Jane answered, escorting Maura gently towards the door. "See you later!"
"Thank you," Maura threw over her shoulder, but Ann had already moved on to the next patient.
"Did it feel weird?" Jane questioned while they made their way to the elevator bank, and pushed the down arrow.
Maura looked thoughtful. "I don't really know. I was surprised to find myself drifting off."
Jane nodded. "That's good though. Rest when you can, right?"
Maura agreed. "Right."
"So," Jane said, "Home? Food?"
"Perhaps something light?" the blonde suggested. "I'm not really sure what to expect and if I do become ill, I'd rather not have to deal with something heavy in my stomach."
"Light...soup? I bet I could convince my mother to whip something up."
"Jane, I don't want your mother having to cook for us all the time. It's not fair."
"Trust me, Maur. Cooking for us, for you in particular with your refined taste," Jane sniffed hautily and made air quotes around the word, but bumped her shoulder lightly into the doctor's to show that she was joking, "is the highlight of her day."
Maura couldn't argue with the truth. "Well, alright. But, could we perhaps not tell her..." she trailed off.
The detective picked up her sentence easily. "Not until you're ready. I promised."
"Thank you," the blonde breathed, just as they stepped out into the underground parking garage.
"You still want to tell them on Sunday? At family dinner?"
"Do you think that's a good time?"
Jane shrugged. "As good a time as any. That way the boys and Korsak will be there to deal with ma. But I still think you should tell your parents first."
Maura shook her head forcefully, regretting it immediately when black spots danced in her line of sight. She paused and Jane stopped immediately, waiting patiently for it to clear. "I already explained to you, Jane. I don't want to inform them until we really understand what the situation is. Not until this first round of chemotherapy has been completed."
"Maura," there was exasperation in Jane's tone.
"I don't want to worry them unnecessarily."
"You're their daughter, Maur. It's their job to worry. Besides, it is-well-it is serious. I think brain tumor warrants a phone call home."
Maura is touched by Jane's concern. But she is certain that it is better to wait. She cannot deal with her father's detached concern or her mother's flighty attention. It's better not to include them until they absolutely need to know. She doesn't want to worry them. They have their own lives to lead.
"Jane," it's a plea. A firm one however, and the detective backs off immediately.
"I still think you should at least call them," she mutters under her breath, opening the car door for the blonde. Once Maura has slid down into the seat, Jane shuts it gently and makes her way to the driver's side, and when she takes her own seat, the subject has been dropped.
"Home it is," the detective injects some cheer into her voice, and Maura appreciates the sentiment. She doesn't know where she'd be without Jane by her side in all this. The brunette really has been taking it all in stride ever since that night when she ran away. Since that point though, she's been Maura's stone or rock or whatever it is. Staying firm. Attending the appointment with Ryan and Dr. Parks. Taking time out of her own schedule to make this first chemo appointment. Asking questions. Maura even noticed an old medical journal of hers tucked under Jane's pillow the night before, and when she'd asked, Jane had pulled it out sheepishly, and explained that she'd been attempting to do her own research as well, trying to find her own answers. Maura had wanted to kiss her in that moment, but instead she'd touched Jane's hand in gratitude and then slipped into bed, rolling as close to the brunette as she'd dared.
She watched Jane as the detective focused her attention on the traffic. There was poison in her body. Rogue cells, mutated beyond normal capacity, wrapped around her brain stem, effectively killing her. She'd just undergone her first chemotherapy treatment. The first of a four week cycle, followed by two weeks of recuperation and then two more cycles. She was aware that the normal reaction was to feel fear, confusion, even anger. And, at the back of her mind, those emotions were there, but overriding them was the knowledge that no matter what came her way, she would have Jane by her side, and hopefully, after Sunday, the rest of the Rizzoli clan as well. She didn't feel fear. Not yet. No, instead she felt the warm blossom of happiness that took up residence inside of her whenever she thought of Jane by her side. She reached over and intertwined her fingers with Jane's. The detective took her eyes off the road momentarily to glance at her and give her a smile. The warmth in her blazed hotter. She should be terrified, but instead, she felt safer than she ever had before.
When Jane opens her eyes, it's dark in the room. She reaches out to be met by sheets that are still warm, but bare. She sits quickly and then pauses to listen. There. A sound from the bathroom, and a light is shining through under the door. Hurriedly, she pushes herself out of the warmth surrounding her and slips into a sweatshirt. She wants to be upset that Maura didn't wake her up, but instead, she simply feels slightly afraid. They'd made it home fine, had some soup, watched a bit of this ridiculous reality television show which Maura had insisted was for ethnographic research, and then hit the sack. Maura had been exhausted. She usually was after a full day now, and Jane had been all too happy to cuddle up in a comfy bed and sleep. It'd been a good night. No negative side effects.
"Maur?" she taps gently on the door. "Maur, can I come in?" When there's no answer, the brunette turns the knob and pushes gently. She wants to cry at the image in front of her.
Maura is sitting on the tiled floor, resting her back against the bathtub. Her face is pale and her hazel eyes, when she looks up at Jane, are glazed and shiny. She looks horrible, is the first thought that crosses Jane's mind, and the detective immediately feels guilty for thinking it.
"Maur," she breathes softly, and steps forward, grabbing a wash cloth from the counter. She runs some water over it under the tap. "Sweetheart."
"I'm sorry," Maura murmurs, clearing her throat. "Didn't mean to wake you."
Jane kneels down, being careful not to startle the blonde. She takes the cloth and runs it gently over Maura's cheeks, then lifts her hair and dabs at her neck, trying to wash away the clammy sweat that has collected on the woman's skin.
"It's okay," Jane soothes, instinctively running a hand along the other woman's arm.
Maura gags a little and throws herself towards the toilet bowl. Jane holds her hair up, murmuring soothing little nothings all the while. She has never really been put in this position. Her mother was always the one up at night with the kids while they were ill. And Jane herself is hardly ever sick. But it seems to come to her naturally. Once the doctor is finished, she sits back against the tub, shaking slightly.
Jane presses a hand to Maura's forehead. She's warm, and shivering now in her silk pajamas. Jane bites her lip in thought. She doesn't want to leave Maura, not even for a minute, but she needs to grab a few things. "I'll be right back," she says, and Maura nods listlessly. Jane hesitates for a single moment and then leans forward and places the lightest of kisses on the doctor's cheek. "Right back," she says again, and then she's rising from the floor and taking off for the kitchen.
She nearly trips over Jo at the bottom of the stairs. "Dammit," she murmurs when she stubs her toe on the corner of the wall, trying to avoid the little dog. "Shit." They were prepared for this eventuality. That the chemo would most likely make Maura physically ill. It's her body's way of reacting to the drugs, it's trying to remove the toxins. She flips on a light switch in the kitchen and scurries around, grabbing whatever she thinks they might need. Gatorade for the electrolytes. Plain water in case Maura won't be able to keep anything down. Saltines. The thermometer. She heads back upstairs, stopping in the bedroom to grab an extra blanket from the closet, and then it's back into the bathroom where Maura has hardly moved.
Jane sets down the tray she's used and then wraps the blanket around the blonde gently, sighing as she lowers herself back to the floor. "Maur," her voice is soft, "I brought some water and some Gatorade. Can you try and drink something for me. Replace some of those fluids."
Maura reaches out shakily and Jane places the colorful drink in her hand. She is pleased when the smaller woman takes several small sips. When Maura grimaces and hands it back, she takes it quickly.
"Do you want to stay here or try and lay down in bed?" she asks, unsure.
"Stay here," Maura mumbles. "Please," she adds.
"Sure. Sure thing."
"You should sleep," the doctor tries to say, but Jane is already shaking her head in the negative.
"No way, doc. I'm staying right here." There is absolutely no way she is leaving Maura in here alone.
"I didn't think puke-duty was in the job description."
Jane is pleasantly surprised by the comment. "Why, Dr. Isles. Was that a joke?"
Maura gives her a small smile. "Maybe."
Jane laughs, but lurches forward when Maura does, the doctor's face going white as a sheet as she retches up everything they'd eaten for dinner and for lunch.
"I'm sorry," she mumbles again when she's finished and Jane is wiping her face with the wet cloth.
"No more apologies," Jane orders. "It's alright. You're okay."
Jane isn't sure how much longer they sit there. She doesn't know how many times Maura leans over the porcelain bowl. It's when she begins to dry heave, tears running down her pale cheeks, that Jane wants to cry, too. She hates it, watching Maura be sick. Seeing the blonde, normally so controlled, so put together, in pain like this and falling apart. Jane wishes she could take the doctor's place, but there is the little voice in her head that just won't shut up, whispering that this is only the beginning. It's most likely going to get worse. That this could happen after every single treatment. That Maura is going to get weaker than she already has. That this could very well become normal. She ignores that voice, wills it away with everything she has.
No one would really call Detective Jane Rizzoli an optimist, but that night, as the hours drag on, and Maura comes unstitched in front of her, Jane pretends that she is. She refuses to listen to her own negative thoughts. She refuses to be overcome by her own exhaustion and fear. Instead, she focuses on the patient, making sure Maura keeps taking sips of the water, replenishing her fluids, trying to keep her hydrated. It may be a losing battle, but Jane doesn't stop trying. She washes the blonde's face free of her tears, pressing light kisses to the top of her sweaty head while Maura leans against her, attempting to snatch some rest. Wrapping her in the blanket, and holding her tight to her own body, trying to transfer as much of her own heat as possible.
It is a long night, but finally, just as the sun is starting to rise, Maura falls asleep in Jane's arms, her head resting against the detective's chest. Jane waits for awhile; her leg falls asleep because of its position, but she doesn't move. She wants to make sure that the doctor is completely out before she attempts to move her. Once Maura's breathing has deepened and evened out, Jane shifts her weight, and then, grunting slightly, she manages to stand, Maura in her arms. The blonde doesn't even move at the change in position. Jane carries her to the bed, and lays her cargo gently down, covering the honey blonde with the comforter.
She is sure the doctor is going to want a shower or a bath as soon as she wakes up, as long as she doesn't get sick again, but for now, it's more important that she sleeps. Jane wants nothing more than to crawl into bed beside her, and close her eyes, but she can't. Not yet.
Instead, she heads back to the bathroom, and cleans up, taking the dishes down to the kitchen, bringing up a giant pan and putting it next to the bed. Something her ma used to always do when she and her brothers were sick. She could hear her mother in her head, "Just in case." Then she scrubbed down the bathroom, making sure it was up to Maura's ridiculous standards of cleanliness, before stripping out of her clothes and hopping into the shower herself.
She lets the hot water cascade down her back, resting her forehead on the wall in front of her. It hadn't been terrible. Not really. But it had been bad. She tried to ignore the picture of Maura in her mind, looking so helpless, and little on the bathroom floor. The way Maura had felt in her arms. Light. Like air. A wisp that might float away at any moment. Instead, she focused on the chores she needed to get done that day. Thankfully, she had the entire weekend off. Thank goodness. She wanted to be home with Maura as much as possible.
Which made her think of work. Jane was sure that she if she wanted to, she could take an entire month off and her boss would barely bat an eye, but she didn't want to do that. Maura had decided that she wanted to attempt to continue working around the treatments and side effects, even if it meant sending one of her underlings out to crime scenes instead of going out herself. Jane had thought to argue against it at first, wanting Maura to save her strength, but she knew that the medical examiner relied on her job as a distraction just as much as Jane did, that the blonde was just as dedicated to her work. She had managed to make Maura promise to take time off if she began to feel at all overwhelmed or too run down.
But what was Jane going to do? She couldn't tell Cavenaugh why she needed all that time off without telling him about Maura, and the doctor hadn't wanted anyone to know yet. She was unsure. Scared. Whatever. Jane got it. She understood. But, it still put her in a bit of a tight spot. She'd just have to work it out. If Cavenaugh didn't like it, well, screw him. Maura was more important. She was the most important thing...person in Jane's life. The detective loved her for God's sake. Not that Maura needed to know that. Not that Jane loved her in a more than a best friend kind of way. No. She didn't need to know. But it didn't make it un-true. Jane groaned under the spray. This was all so freaking annoying and confusing and horrible. She just wanted Maura to be ok, to get better, to be her crazy google mouth self again.
Jane realizes with a start that she's been in the shower so long the water has begun to turn cold. Soaping herself quickly, she washes and hops out, slipping into a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. Today was a home day. A day to be comfortable and relaxed, and to hopefully get Maura to eat something, to replace everything she'd lost that night. Jane peaks into the bedroom, giving a grateful sigh when she ses that the doctor is still sleeping soundly, and then she heads downstairs. She might as well get some work done while she waits for Maura to wake up. No use going to sleep now. As tired as she is, there's no way she's going to be able to shut her brain off.
Jane nearly has a heart attack when she enters the kitchen to find another person already in residence.
"Jesus, Ma!" she nearly shouts, forgetting the sleeping figure upstairs for a moment. "What are you doing here?" She questions, softer now.
"I came over to make you two breakfast," her mother says, like it's the most natural thing in the world for a woman to make her grown children eggs and bacon on a Saturday morning.
"Should I be in the living room watching cartoons?" Jane quips sarcastically, running her fingers through her wet hair. Maura is upstairs, asleep, after having been up half the night, vomiting her guts out, and now her mother is here, in the kitchen, as if nothing is wrong, as if everything hasn't changed, been turned on its head.
Her mother rolls her eyes at her oldest child, and turns back to the stove.
Jane wonders if Angela is aware just how often Jane has been spending the night here of late. She wonders if the Rizzoli matriarch is at all curious, because it is unlike her mother to simply accept a sleepover with no questions. It used to be that one of the two only spent the night after a traumatic event at work, or when they were having guy troubles...again. It's odd. And Jane finds that she is actually a little put out by her mother's lack of curiosity.
Jane takes a seat at the island and her mother sets a cup of Maura's expensive coffee down in front of her. "It smells great, ma." And it does.
"Is Maura up?" her mother asks.
Jane blanches. Maura doesn't want anyone to know. "She was-I think- we were up late last night. Working on a case," she is quick to point out. "So I'm not sure if she'll be up for breakfast."
"Maura is sleeping in?"
And Jane wants to curse at her horrible lie. The good doctor never, never, sleeps in. Of course her mother would find that odd. "I think she's feeling a bit...run down." That wasn't exactly a lie.
"Oh no! Can I do anything?"
Jane shook her head. "She might just need to sleep it off, ma. You know. Rest up."
"Sure, sure." Thankfully, her mother is nodding in agreement. "Well, I'll make her a plate and she can heat it up later if she wants to."
Jane knows that there is absolutely no way in hell Maura will be eating reheated scrambled eggs and old bacon when she finally wakes up, but she agrees anyway. Sometimes it's easier to just smile and nod.
"You look tired, Janie," Angela observes as she takes a spot next to her daughter, eggs in hand.
"Like I said, late night. Mmm," Jane groans in satisfaction. "This is delicious, ma. Thank you."
"Oh, it was my pleasure," her mother beams at the compliment. The easiest way to her mother's heart is to compliment her cooking. Most of them are well-deserved.
They eat in silence after that, uncharacteristic for her mother, but Jane is grateful. She lets her thoughts drift back to the issue weighing down on her. Well, multiple issues actually.
"Ma," she says suddenly, and her mother looks up at her. "Did you love Pop?" she regrets the question immediately and can feel her cheeks turning red in embarrassment.
Her mother, however, looks thoughtful. "You mean before he turned into a good-for-nothing who divorced me and then tried to get me to say I didn't want my children? Like I'd just disown my own kids."
"Ma," Jane groans.
"Yes," her mother cuts her off. "I loved you father. I loved him very much."
This is somewhat surprising. "But it didn't work out."
"No. But sometimes these things don't, Janie. Why? What's this about?"
"Nothing," the detective mutters into her plate. "Nothing."
She can feel her mother glaring daggers into the back of her neck. "Is this about a man?"
"No, ma."
"A new suitor?"
"Suitor? Jesus. What is this? The 1800s? No, ma," she is emphatic.
There is a pause, and then her mother speaks again, softer this time, more understanding, "Sometimes," she pauses as if searching for the correct wording, "sometimes love is unexpected, even unwanted."
Jane chances a look up, but her mother is staring off into space.
"Sometimes we fall in love for all the wrong reasons, and other times it comes at the incorrect time. But if we are in love, Janie," and here she turns her gaze back on her daughter, "it's important that we acknowledge it. People fall out of love every single day. It's painful, and disrupting. But they also fall into love. And it's important to recognize those moments. To know when it's happening. To accept it, even if it is new, or-or scary. Because falling in love can be wonderful. Joyous. The best thing you ever do in your life." The way her mother is looking at her is beginning to make her nervous. "I just want you to be happy, Janie," she has shifted gears, taking Jane by surprise again. "So, if you love someone, you should tell them. Because it's a good thing. Don't be afraid to take some risks." her mother stands and heads for the sink. "I know you feel all tough with that gun in your hand, but you're just as brave and strong without it." She put the dishes down and began to wash them by hand, ignoring the dishwasher. Jane sat as if frozen in place. "You've seemed happy lately. Ever since you and Maura made up. It's good. It's alright to be happy."
Jane clears her throat. "I-I know that."
"Good," Angela says simply, having finished the two plates and forks. "Well, tell Maura I said hello. And I'll see you both tomorrow night?"
"Yes. Tomorrow."
She walks around the island and presses a kiss to Jane's temple. One which the detective doesn't even try to avoid. She is still trying to interpret everything her mother has just said. Usually Angela simply throws men at her; they never really talk about love.
"Janie?"
"Hmm?"
"I want you to be happy most of all, because I love you and you're my daughter. And you've seemed happy lately. So, whatever or whoever has made you feel this way, tell them. Don't be afraid. You understand?"
She was trying to. "Yes."
"Good. Because I'm still waiting on those grandchildren," she grouses, heading towards the door, and Jane can't help but smile at the not-so-subtle, and oft-used hint.
"Thanks, ma!" she says softly as the door leading outside and to the guest house closes behind her mother. For what, she isn't so sure, except that her mother has left her with more to mull over. It's all so confusing. And she almost wonders if her mother knows that it is actually Maura, the beautiful, complex, stunning woman upstairs that she is falling in love with. But she dismisses that thought quickly. She isn't sure how Angela would react to finding out that her only daughter was attracted to another woman. Not just attracted to, she amended in her head. It's getting harder for her to distract herself from thoughts of telling Maura, of being with her in that way, of kissing her, of referring to the blonde as her - as her - dammit - her girlfriend. Because every time she sees the blonde, every time Maura does something silly or crazy or intelligent or brave, Jane finds the need to reach out and take the medical examiner into her arms absolutely overwhelming. It is almost tiring how hard it is getting to continue fighting with herself over this stupid issue. But Maura can't know. Dammit.
Not after the diagnosis. Not after last night, when she was completely exposed in front of the detective. Not when Jane feels as if it would be taking advantage of a horrible situation to profess her love now. Not when Maura is engaged in some crazy internal struggle with her own body. Not now. Not ever. Jesus. Not ever. They are best friends. Nothing more. Not even her mother can change her mind this time.
AN2: So, what'd y'all think?