Hey, y'all, so I can't remember if I've really put a season on this story. Spring, Winter, etc. So, I'm giving it one now. If it turns out I did, and I'm just being a forgetful crazy person, let me know... Enjoy! Happy new year! Love.
Maura stood by the window, one hand wrapped securely around her mug handle and the other resting lightly against the sill. She could feel the slight chill coming through the pane. She sighed. The leaves would be changing soon. As the amount of sunlight during the day diminished, photosynthesis would slow, and the trees would live off of the extra energy they'd stored for the winter months. The green chlorophyll would begin to disappear, allowing reds and oranges to pop where before they had been out-powered by the green. She loved fall. It was a beautiful transformation.
So many people decried it as the most drab of seasons. The time when everything died and the cold of the dark months came creeping in. Maura disagreed. Autumn was the time for the flora and fauna to take stock, prepare for the rejuvenating rest which winter provided. She adored living in Boston because it provided such a wonderful setting for all of the four basic seasons.
Fall could be considered a time for new beginnings, just as much as spring could. Students returned to school in the fall, filling the hallways with shouts and enthusiasm, and filling their brains with knowledge. She'd looked forward to the new school year every September. Not because of seeing old friends again, but because of the books, the opportunities to learn more, to attempt to quench her insatiable need for information. And now, the leaves changing signaled the start of the holiday season: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, the new year. For so many years, Maura had celebrated such holidays alone, or surrounded by the high class functions her parents funded. But ever since Jane had taken her under her wing, had accepted Maura into her family, the holidays had been a much louder, boisterous, lovely affair. She loved it. Autumn was truly her favorite season.
She stared out at the lawn and trees contemplatively. Jane would be getting up soon. The brunette would wake to an empty bed, however. Maura had been awake since five am. Early enough to watch the sun rise over the rooftops. Early enough to hear the birds calling the morning in. She shifted her weight and took a sip of the mint tea. It was so peaceful to watch the sunrise, the sky shifting from purple to indigo, pinks and yellows precluding the clear blue which signaled a beautiful day.
Maura ignored the twinging sensation behind her eyes, a clear reminder that all was not right in her world. She didn't want to acknowledge it. She would rather pretend the last week had been a dream. The last month actually or several months if it came down to that. She wanted to go back to before her diagnosis, before the warehouse and Paddy Doyle and almost losing her friendship with Jane forever. But it was foolish to desire something that could never be. She gave herself a mental shake.
Besides, some good had come out of the entire situation. She and Jane were best friends once more. Closer than they had been before in many ways. More open. More trusting of one another. Their relationship had shifted a bit with the diagnosis, but so far, all seemed to be holding steady. Strong. Maura was grateful.
It was Sunday. Rizzoli family Sunday. At some point in the early afternoon, Angela Rizzoli would burst through the back door, likely with some form of noodles in hand and a tremendously long list of chores to complete before the house filled up at four o'clock. Maura would assist the matriarch in the kitchen while Jane tried to avoid household chores of any kind. Then Vince would arrive, swiftly followed by Frost and Frankie, and finally Tommy. It would be a full house. She could almost picture how the entire night would go. She smiled at the thought. It was wonderful to know that her home, once so quiet and still, could be transformed by the Rizzoli clan into a place of warmth and light and love.
But tonight also meant - Maura shivered - tonight was the night. She and Jane had discussed it at length the night before, after spending all day on the couch. Maura had woken on Saturday morning still slightly nauseous and exhausted, but after her shower, Jane had plopped her down on the couch and babied her with soup and saltines and movies. She'd even let Maura talk her into a new French film the doctor had been wanting to see. And it had been the blonde who'd fallen asleep halfway through, her eyes growing heavy with fatigue as her head drifted down to rest on Jane's shoulder, the detective shifting so Maura could lay more comfortably, spread out along on the couch. The detective had studiously avoided asking if Maura was alright more than was necessary. She hadn't brought up the night before at all other than to check the doctor's temperature and insist on constant fluid intake. Maura had never been more grateful for the brunette.
The side effects of the chemotherapy treatment had not been unexpected, but they had certainly been unpleasant, and she was not looking forward to undergoing such incapacitating chills and vomiting during every cycle. She was aware that it would most likely get worse as her body became weaker throughout its fight. No, she certainly wasn't looking forward to it. It had been somewhat embarrassing to lose control in front of Jane, but when the brunette didn't balk at the patient, when she hardly batted an eye, Maura stopped worrying about it. She'd allowed herself to relax under Jane's care, well, at least as much as she was able to. The medical examiner faintly remembered finally falling asleep, her body worn down at last, early in the morning, but she had no memory of Jane putting her to bed.
It had been somewhat offsetting to awaken, not on the tiled bathroom floor as she'd expected, but wrapped in her own soft sheets. Yet it had also been luxuriously wonderful to have Jane there taking care of her. The detective had been surprisingly gentle with her, quiet all day once Maura was up, helpful, in a silent, unassuming way. She loved Jane for it. That the brunette was so willing to spend her day off taking care of some kind of invalid. That she got to witness the care and concern and kindness that the harsh woman usually tried so hard to mask. She loved Jane for it, but she also recognized the twisting sensation within her that signified anger at the memory. It was not anger at Jane, certainly not, but at herself. First that she required care at all. She had no desire for Jane to be forced into the nursemaid role. Maura had spent her entire life becoming independent, relying only on herself. She didn't want to admit this weakness, not even to Jane, but it was difficult to ignore. Maura had realized throughout the last week, while meeting with Ryan and Dr. Parks, while undergoing the first treatment and spending more hours in the hospital than she had since...well, since her mother had been hit by that car and Paddy Doyle had been shot, when she noticed that Jane's trips to the morgue had become quite a bit more frequent, that the detective was checking up on her in her own way by taking her to lunch every day in order to ensure that she ate. Perhaps it was when she realized that Jane would ask if they could go to bed early as soon as she noticed Maura's energy level beginning to drag in the evenings. Perhaps it had been Friday night, hunched over her own porcelain toilet bowl. At some point in the past week, she'd come to terms with the fact that she needed Jane in her life. That she relied on the fiery, spirited, caring woman in more ways than one. That Jane, without even seeming to notice, made Maura's life easier, took away some of her stress, her fear, simply by being nearby. Maura realized that, while she abhorred playing the role of patient, there was no one she would rather have by her side than Jane Rizzoli.
It was a sobering thought. A delightful one, in that Jane had made this entire process easier on Maura simply by giving her a shoulder to lean. But also a terrifying one, because if she were to lose Jane, lose her rock, lose the woman she had found herself falling in love with day by day, she herself, would most likely be lost. She realized that her lips had tightened at the thought so she forced herself to relax, taking several deep, calming breaths. What would come would come. There was no use becoming stressed about it yet. So far, all had gone surprisingly well. She could only hope it would continue to do so. Jane was still here. The detective was holding steady. Maura simply had to have faith.
The scientific woman had read the studies claiming that a positive attitude often correlated with a positive recovery, with an easier process. She was determined to do everything in her power to fight the abnormal cell growth within her body, even if the numbers were daunting. But, like Jane said, numbers were, in reality, merely markings on a page. Maura lived her life by numbers, by certain rules, by data, but Jane, Jane wasn't like that, and the doctor couldn't help but allow herself to fall in love with the brunette's strength, with her seemingly unflagging optimism when close to the doctor.
The honey blonde heard the quiet whispering of Jane's socks over floor in the kitchen. She hadn't even been aware of the detective waking up and coming downstairs. Usually, Jane made quite a lot of noise, but this morning, she'd been unnaturally quiet. Maura smiled and took another sip of the now lukewarm tea. She rubbed at her temple frustratedly.
She wished the headache would leave her, at least for several hours, so she could think in peace. On Friday night, it had almost felt as though her head were splitting in two, like her skull had ruptured and her brain was being separated by a cut down the corpus callosum. The pain had made the vomiting that much worse. And she wanted to be clear in the head for the evening, when she finally told the Rizzoli clan, including Vince and Barry about the glioma. She wasn't quite sure what to expect, although Jane had tried to guess each of her family member's reactions. Maura didn't know if she would be able to handle any large outbursts. Thankfully, Jane had promised to act as a human shield if need be. Maura had questioned if that would really be necessary, but the serious brunette, her brown eyes leaving no hint of laughter, had assured the doctor that it could very well be. At least when it came to her family.
For a moment, the ME felt a stabbing pain of guilt that she was not informing her own parents first. She and Constance had been attempting to work on their relationship, especially after the accident. But thirty years of keeping her problems to herself, of working through them, of running her own life and leaving her parents' to theirs, made it difficult to reach out to them now. She shook her head in agitation. She would tell them. Of course, she must. But not yet. The Rizzolis first.
"Thinking about tonight?" Jane's raspy voice was soft as it broke the still morning air.
Maura didn't turn from her position at the window, "Yes."
"It'll be alright, Maur. I'll be there. I promise."
"I know," and she did. They stood in silence for a moment longer. Jane hadn't fully entered the room, and, even without turning, Maura knew that she would be lounging against the door frame, coffee cup in hand, her old BPD sweats hanging from her thin waist. She could feel the detective's searching eyes on her, taking in her appearance, her pajamas, the stance she had assumed, seemingly relaxed, still with a straight back, but with her head slightly tilted to avoid the direct sunlight. She knew that Jane would see the way she held herself stiffly, still feeling the effects of the chemo slightly. She knew that Jane would notice her weakness, but that the detective would not comment on it, merely store the information away for later. She loved her for that. For their unspoken understanding.
As Maura gazed out the window again, watching as the leaves danced in the light breeze, she contemplated, not for the first time, telling Jane how she felt. Laying her feelings bare on the counter, or table, or whatever it was. She had seen the way Jane watched her, the way the detective automatically repositioned her body whenever Maura entered a room. But she wasn't sure if it meant that Jane, too, was experiencing a heightened level of feeling, of emotional connection. She couldn't be 100% sure, and she had no desire to risk it.
Jane was the type of woman who was uncomfortable even discussing sexual intercourse in the hypothetical. She avoided emotional conversations with a stubbornness that was impressive. Maura didn't want to risk pushing her away, especially not now. So, she didn't turn, she didn't look into the fierce brown eyes awaiting her, she didn't bother turning to try and interpret Jane's body language, usually quite easy to read, but always more challenging when the doctor tried to understand Jane's reaction to her. Instead, she merely studied the trees, and waited for Jane to break the silence.
However, when it came, it was not what she was expecting.
Jane studied Maura from behind. The doctor had gone back to examining the trees and lawn outside. She looked gorgeous in the still pale early morning sunshine. Her hair was swept up in a quick pony tail, and Jane had to physically resist the urge to cross the room and wrap her arms around the blonde's tiny frame, to hold her close, to press a kiss to the exposed skin right there at the nape of her neck. Her hand was shaking because she was holding her mug so tightly, so she took a sip, to steady her nerves, and then set the cup down on the side table.
Maura looked small, framed in the window. Tiny. Not frail, but as though she might easily be swept away, carried off by some invisible wind. Jane wanted to reach forward, take her into her embrace, keep her from disappearing. It had only been a week. A single treatment, and already she was waking in the night from dreams where Maura was gone, was disappearing and Jane was powerless to stop it. She didn't want those dreams to become a reality. She wanted to feel Maura, actually feel her. To remind herself that she was awake, and the doctor was fine now. That Friday night was in the past and yesterday had gone well, and now it was Sunday. She wanted to kiss the blonde so badly it felt as if her entire body was on fire with the desire of it.
She opened her mouth to break the silence, to ease her own need, to stop herself from doing something stupid, potentially damaging. She meant to say something witty, something sarcastic, anything really, a comment on the weather, but instead, "You're my best friend."
Maura cocked her head to the side but didn't look around. "What?"
Jane wanted to hit herself. But before she could control it, "You're my best friend." It came out halting and unsure, almost questioning.
Maura tensed in her place at the window. "Jane," so soft, she almost missed it.
"You're my best friend, Maur. And I would do anything for you. I would protect you from anything. I would do whatever you asked me to." Jane paused to take a breath, not quite knowing how to stop or even what she is saying. "You're my best friend, and I don't want to ruin it."
"Ruin what?" Maura pivoted now, finally meeting Jane's pleading gaze. She took a step forward at the force of the stare, and reached a hand out, "Jane?"
But the brunette shook her head and assumed her fight or flight position, on her toes, ready to bolt at a moment's notice, to launch into action. She wouldn't be able to stand it if the blonde came any closer. The doctor's unlined face, open, searching, honest, was there, right in front of her, and Jane could hardly bare to meet that hazel gaze. She had no idea what she was doing. She wanted to kick herself.
"I can't. Maura, I jus-just. Please."
"Jan-"
"Please, please. I can't," she was almost begging now, but she still didn't quite understand the situation. Her body was no longer under her control. Her mouth no longer connected to her mind. Maura glanced down and Jane realized she was rubbing her left palm with her right hand in an increasingly agitated pattern. She forced her hands to still.
"Please, you're my best friend," she looked at the doctor with pleading eyes.
Maura still looked confused, but she took another slow step forward, hesitant, wary of startling the other woman. A light was dawning in her eyes, and Jane was thankful at the familiar look. It meant that Maura was beginning to understand, was piecing the puzzle together. Well, at least that made one of them. The doctor set her mug down, and froze next to the couch.
"Ruin what, Jane?" she asked again, and her calm voice soothed Jane's racing heartbeat.
Jane stepped forward this time, and then another step, and another. Maura watched her come, expressionlessly. When she was close enough, Jane reached forward, nearly sighing at relief when she felt Maura's warm skin against her own. Hand in hand. Relieved that it couldn't possibly be a dream, and suddenly terrified that it meant she was awake. This was actually happening. She rubbed her thumb over Maura's knuckles.
"My mother said-gah-taking advice from my mother," she trailed off, unsure what it was she was meant to be saying, if anything at all.
Maura merely watched her. Jane wasn't sure if the doctor was even breathing.
"My mother said, that is, well, I - You're my best friend."
"Yes, we covered that," and the doctor's attempt at humor allowed Jane a slight grin.
"Yes. We did." Jane stopped. "But I don't want to ruin it."
"Ruin what?" And there was a hint of exasperation in Maura's tone, thinly veiling what Jane could only identify as possible excitement.
The detective looked up again, staring into Maura's green eyes. Usually they were a light hazel, but this morning, they looked almost emerald, dark, deep, searching. A week ago Maura was diagnosed with a brain tumor. A life altering event. A life changing event. A life ruining event. Jane was frozen, indecisive, unsure.
"You won't ruin it, Jay," and it was the nickname more than anything. A nickname Maura had only used once or twice when she was in a hurry, when she was feeling especially exasperated with the brunette. A nickname that rolled off her tongue lightly now, reassuringly.
Jane blinked once. She took a deep breath. She gave Maura time to pull away as she took a step, a second, a third, bringing her directly into the medical examiner's personal space. She looked down, there was only an inch separating them now. She wondered briefly if Maura could hear her heart pounding.
"You're my best friend," she barely had to whisper.
"Yes."
"I don't want to ruin it."
"Ja-" but she cut the other woman off. She leaned down, bringing her free hand up to cup the doctor's soft cheek, pressing forward until her lips touched Maura's, until she had crossed the invisible boundary that separated them, until she could feel the blonde. It was gentle, soft, questioning.
And Maura did not immediately respond. So Jane pulled away, trying to quell the sudden swooping sensation in her stomach.
"Shit," she swore, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Maur, pleas-"
"Again," the command was quiet, yet firm.
Jane stared at the woman, her hand still resting on Maura's cheek, now flushed.
"Again."
Jane decided it was better simply to obey, so she bent her head and placed her mouth back on Maura's. This time, the smaller woman responded, standing up on tiptoe, and wrapping her arms around Jane's neck as though they'd assumed this position a million times. Jane parted her lips slightly and the response of Maura's tongue was immediate. The detective held in a gasp as the taste of Maura filled her. It was intoxicating. Jane shifted so the two were pressed tightly together, not a hairsbreadth of space between them. She wanted to moan at the feeling of Maura against, of the doctor's tongue in her mouth. She wanted to sink into.
It seemed to last forever, moving together, searching, questing, but it could only have been a moment, before Maura broke away, sucking in a deep gulp of air.
"Ok," Jane managed to murmur. It's both a question and a statement. Has it been ruined? You're my best friend. I would do anything for you. Am I dreaming?
"Okay," Maura responded gently, smiling shyly up at Jane, and the brunette couldn't help the large whoosh of air that left her in relief.
"Okay," and Maura giggled at the repetitive word. Jane smiled at her. "I-" she didn't know what to say. The past ten minutes had been as if she was watching herself from far away, trying to convince herself that she shouldn't, but then going ahead and doing it anyway. And maybe it wasn't ruined. Maybe.
Maura was contemplating her carefully. "You live here."
"Excuse me?"
"You have already moved in."
Jane nearly spluttered. No she didn't. No she hadn't. Had she? She tried to remember the last night she had spent in her apartment, but she couldn't. Most of her clothes were here. Jo Friday was here for God's sake.
Maura was watching her, seemingly unperturbed by the rapidly changing events. But then again, maybe it wasn't so rapid.
"Jane? Nothing needs to change."
"Nothing needs to-?" Jane gaped at her.
Maura merely shrugged, "We can always pretend it didn't happen. I know you may not agree, but sexuality can be quite fluid. You and I have been spending so much time together lately. Eating meals together. Working. Sleeping in the same bed. Dealing with..."
Jane cut her off with a single finger. "It's taken me months to work up the guts to do that. I don't think I can just take it back." She almost wanted to. To just run away, pretend she'd never changed the game. But she didn't either, because it had felt right, for just a minute, when she was holding Maura like she'd been wanting to do ever since Dr. Wilde gave her that pitying look, ever since Maura went home sick from the office that first time, ever since the warehouse. When she'd been close enough to Maura just then, actually, how she still was, as she realized they had yet to unhand one another, it felt right. Normal. How it should be. It felt as though she'd finally stopped pretending. Stopped trying to shove it away. For that brief moment, she'd felt light enough to fly.
"I don't want you to take it back." The honesty in Maura's tone was a bit disarming. "Best friends are often quite close."
"Maur," Jane snorted. "That was not just close."
"No," the blonde didn't give Jane time to react when she stretched up and pressed a quick peck to Jane's lips. "No. You're correct." She pulled away, putting several feet of space between them.
Jane wanted to move forward, to close the distance. "Doesn't this...change everything?" she asked instead, fearing the answer.
Maura almost looked like she was going to laugh. "Does it?"
The detective studied her socked feet and then glanced up from under her lashes. "Yes." She wasn't sure.
"Maybe."
"But... We're best friends."
"Yes. And you sleep in my bed, and you held my hair for me for five hours on Friday night, and your mother lives in my guest house, and I wanted to kiss you. And I still would like to kiss you."
"It does change some things."
"Yes," it's simple.
"Can I? Maybe?" Jane sees the understanding in the doctor's face, so she closes the distance between them once more, grazing their lips together, biting down gently, and then running her tongue soothingly across the spot. The butterflies are going wild in her stomach. It is perfect. They are perfect. She stepped back and smoothed her shirt anxiously with her hands.
She wants to say it. I love you. With Maura standing there in front of her, looking beautiful, and wonderful, and Jane feeling so ridiculously happy that her heart might just beat it's way out of her chest, she wants to say it. But you don't just kiss your best friend in her living room and then declare that you love her. No. You don't. So she holds her tongue.
Jane wants to know if this means she can kiss Maura whenever she wants to now. What they are now. But instead, Maura wobbles suddenly, and Jane remembers where they are, and that Maura has been standing for quite a long time, and that the doctor no longer does well with long periods of standing. So she takes Maura's hand in hers. It fits there nicely, palm to palm. But they already knew that. This is not new.
"I think I might lie down for awhile. Just until your mother gets here."
"Alright," Jane leads them towards the stairs, fingers still intertwined. It wasn't an exactly an invitation, and she isn't tired, but she's going to interpret it as one until Maura tells her otherwise.
Once they're in bed, Jane rolls over so she is facing the honey blonde, but she doesn't move closer. Normally, they fall asleep apart and wake up quite a bit closer together. But she isn't sure what proper protocol is once you've kissed your best friend. Maura decides for her when she scoots back until she is pressed against Jane's front. The detective's long arms wrap around her middle reflexively, pulling the doctor even closer. Jane rests her head behind Maura's ear, her light breathing causes goosebumps to run up the doctor's arms.
"What are we?" her voice cracks on the question.
From within her embrace Maura almost shrugs, an undignified gesture the medical examiner is not prone to.
"I mean - It's just that - Well, what does this make us now?" She is almost embarrassed. "Are we...girlfriends?" her lips move over the somewhat unfamiliar term. Jane has nothing against same sex couples, but she's never been particularly warm to the idea in the past. Not after all the crap she got from guys down at the brick when she became a cop, and then a female homicide detective. She's been putting up with the stereotypes and name calling for far too long to be completely comfortable with the idea right away.
"If you'd like to be," Maura responded softly, understandingly. "But it seems to me that we've already taken several of the steps which couples often take together. It may not be completely necessary to put a label on it at this point. Maybe for ourselves perhaps. But, if you don't want to, I see no need to tell your family and friends, or anyone at work until we want to."
Jane gave Maura a quick squeeze and couldn't resist pressing a kiss to the blonde's curls. How did Maura always do that. "Our family."
"Pardon."
"You said 'your family' but the Rizzolis are just as much your family as they are mine at this point. My mother adores you. You are the perfect daughter. So it's our family." That might be skipping a few steps. But Jane doesn't care. It's true.
"Alright."
"But you're right. I don't really know if anyone at work needs to know. Not yet." She snorts, "Especially not douche bags like Crowe. They'd have a field day."
"When we're ready, Jane."
Jane nods. "Okay. Thank you."
She can feel the medical examiner relaxing against her, growing heavier already with sleep. "Welcome," the doctor murmurs.
"Sleep," Jane whispers. Maura mumbles something Jane cannot make out, and then there is silence in the room. The brunette reaches down to pull the duvet over the top of them. She doesn't think she'll be able to sleep. She did only just wake up after all. Her mind is racing, trying to process the last thirty minutes. She kissed Maura. Maura kissed her back. As wonderful as it had been, as freeing as it had been, it didn't feel as though anything much had changed. She decided that Maura had been right. Maybe they had simply been skipping a couple of steps along the way. Maybe they'd been missing the point the entire time.
She thought back to her conversation with her mother from the previous day. She wondered again if Angela Rizzoli had known who they had actually be talking about. She couldn't be sure. For someone who was usually so loud and overbearing, Angela had been strangely tightlipped lately. Jane wondered how her mother would respond to learning that her only daughter, her greatest hope for grandchildren, was, in a sense, now dating a woman. Were they dating? She ground her teeth together in frustration. Maura just accepted it all. Her cavalier attitude made it seem as if she'd been expecting this, as if it was just another day in the life. Jane wanted to feel that way. In fact she almost could. But it also felt as if she'd stepped off of some sort of cliff, and she couldn't yet decide if she'd managed to learn to fly in time. It was terrifying. Liberating. Wonderful. But terrifying.
And not just because it potential meant telling her extremely Catholic mother, or the guys at BPD finding out eventually, because they would. At some point. Especially once her mother knew and likely blabbed it to the entire precinct café. But also because Maura was, well, she was Maura. And even sick, even going through chemotherapy and taking naps during the middle of the morning, she was still Dr. Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Ivy League educated, genius, gorgeous, cultured. She was everything that Detective Jane Rizzoli was not. It was intimidating. Terrifying.
Jane was frightened. But lying there, a sleeping woman in her arms, knowing that Maura felt comfortable enough to let down all of her safeguards in the detective's presence, Jane's entire body warmed at the happiness filling her. She was ridiculously happy. She had kissed Maura. And Maura kissed her back. It had been just as wonderful as she'd imagined it would be. Just as perfect. Holy hell.