A/N: Thank you to the person who pointed out my extremely retarded Euro/Pound mistake. You see, I'm Italian. The only place in Europe I have ever visited was Italy. So when I think of Europe, the currency that automatically pops into my head is Euros. Anyhow, here's another itty bitty chapter. I felt like we never see our heroines deal with the aftermath of their cases. Especially Jane after she has to shoot someone. Like that shit must be traumatic, y'know? So I gave birth to this.
Have fun reading, thank you all for your reviews, once again, much love. :)
An intoxicated Jane Rizzoli came crashing through the front door of her home. The woman had planned to sneak into the house like a silent assassin. However, she happened to trip over her own feet and lurched forward in order to grab the door, one hand on the door knob, preventing her from any face planting incident, kinda. Like most drunken stumbles, as I'm sure you all know, they don't quite go as smoothly as you would want them to. You put your energy into doing one movement, when all of a sudden your other limb doesn't agree with its sibling and you end up in a position that makes you look like you're having a dance off with yourself.
In this case, the brunette's hand, that had been clutching to the door knob, slipped and the door creaked open slightly. She began to fall forward, without a warning like a misplaced object bordering the edge of a table. The detective desperately tried to catch herself and grab onto anything that was more stable than herself, which was easy considering her current state. She hit her head against the door in the most ungraceful manner, making it open wider. Her left hand quickly grabbed at the door frame, preventing further cerebral damage. Dammit, hope I didn't wake Maura up.
Another thought crossed Jane's mind as she fought with her jacket pocket, wondering why it wouldn't give her, her house keys. "Just...fuckin'...there." Victoriously, the woman pulled her set of keys from the pocket and hung them on the small hooks installed in the entrance for that purpose. Why wasn't the door locked? If the brunette wasn't a drink away from a self induced coma, she could have easily came to the conclusion that she was in trouble.
"Where have you been, Jane? I was worried sick." It wasn't a complete lie; Maura had gotten accustomed to her girlfriend's nightly outings. Though, she still worried that she would get a call in the middle of the night informing her that Jane had been in a bar brawl, or worst, that she had been hospitalized. The woman hadn't been the same since they came back from their vacation.
Jane pressed her palms against the wall as she kicked her boots off. "Dirty Robber, Frost was there and-" She slurred as she advanced in the dimly light kitchen, where Maura was standing.
"I called him; he informed me that he left around eleven o'clock." The doctor crossed her arms over her chest. Jane didn't seem to comprehend her accusations, so she continued: "It's nearly two in the morning, Jane." She said a little more forcefully.
"I was, at the Robber." Jane repeated unevenly, using the island counter to keep herself steady.
Maura didn't believe her. She wanted to trust her words, but something kept her from doing so. Something, actually, everything, in the brunette's behavior for the past month hinted what the petite doctor could only assume was how a person acted when they were having an affair. "I hope you didn't drive in this state." She commented flatly. Of course, she didn't have any evidence to base this assumption on; it was more of a gut feeling. Maura didn't rely on her gut, so she would have to call the bartender at the Dirty Robber to make sure Jane wasn't lying to her.
"Taxi, brought me home." She explained, walking closer towards the blond woman. In a daze, unaware of her girlfriend's accusations, Jane moved around the island, one of her hand gliding against the counter to balance herself. She wrapped one of arms around Maura's waist and leaned in for a kiss.
The only reason the doctor had let an intoxicated Jane kiss her was to see if she tasted like someone else than Jack Daniels. It seemed to go in the detective's favor as the only taste she could detect was the strong Tennessee Whiskey. She smelled the collar of her shirt, trying to see if she could smell a perfume that wasn't Jane's, or hers. Nothing. Maybe she was telling the truth. Although, the strong smell of alcohol could mask a delicate perfume. When Jane seemed to be getting a little too grabby, Maura place a hand on her chest, gently pushing her away.
"C'mon, Maur." She leaned forward once again, but this time she was stopped as the doctor's hand pushed her back. "Don't be a tease." Jane stupidly said.
If it would have been anyone else but Jane in front of the blond, she would have slapped them hard enough to knock some sense into them. "You're drunk." Maura uselessly pointed out, using this excuse to move away from the brunette and turn away from her.
"Do you even want me anymore?" When her girlfriend remained silent, Jane assumed the worst. "Are you breaking up with me?" This question sobered the woman up more than she would have liked.
"Those aren't my intentions," After what seemed like a long pause, Maura added: "But things need to change."
"What are you talking about, baby?" Jane's hand reached out to Maura's shoulder. The contact was quickly, almost impatiently, shrugged off.
"We're not having this conversation when you're intoxicated." The doctor stated simply, making no effort to move.
"Maura, please." The detective's tone was desperate, pleading, as she reached out to the petite woman once more.
"We should go to bed, it's late." Maura replied coldly as she walked into their bedroom, leaving the door opened behind her. A part of her wanted to lock the brunette out, force her to sleep on the couch. The other part, however, couldn't sleep without Jane's warm body next to hers. That was one of the reasons why the woman waited for Jane's arrival every night.
Even a drunk Jane knew better than to argue with the doctor. She let it go and followed her girlfriend in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed to take off her clothes. The buttons on her shirt didn't seem to cooperate and she wondered why she hadn't just worn a t-shirt instead. As she began to furiously fumble with the buttons, she felt two calm and steady hands over hers. Looking up, she saw that Maura was staring down at her, not with an amused smile, not with a warm one, but with an emotionless expression.
Maura unbuttoned the shirt with ease, helping the brunette out of it as she finished. She stayed there, between Jane's legs, letting the garment pool at their feet. She quickly got lost into deep chocolate brown eyes and failed to notice that the brunette had wrapped both of her arms around her waist, trapping her in this position. The doctor set her hands on both of Jane's naked shoulders, feeling the muscles twitch underneath her finger tips. She broke the eye contact, dipping her head down to watch the rise and fall of their chest pressing against one another. I need her so much, but not in this state. Not when she's like this. Maura placed her hand behind the detective's head, kissing the woman's temple. "Good night, love." With all her willpower, she untangled herself from the brunette, instantly craving the contact, just as much as she missed making love to the Jane.
The honey-blond moved to her side of the bed and crawled underneath the sheets. A few moments passed before she felt the mattress shift, a warm body pressing against her back and a lanky arm snaking itself around her waist, pulling her further into the embrace. Maura could smell the strong alcohol coming off from the detective like a toxic fume, but it didn't bother her. She was here now, finally. What kind of relationship is this turning into? She thought, as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.
It was selfish of her; she was brilliant enough to figure this out on her own. Their non-existent sex life brought Maura to think it was the only reason she craved any small physical contact with the woman, even if it was in a negative way. Everything seemed like rainbows and unicorns when they were in England; however, as they arrived home, Jane started to pull away. She was distant; always staying at work late, getting a drink afterwards and coming back home unmistakably drunk. Was Jane still in love with her? Sure, they both still acted like a couple. The brunette would always get anything Maura asked for, help her with the dishes and other things that people do when they're whipped. Yet, it didn't seem natural; it seemed forced, robotic even.
Maybe Jane's simply staying with me as to not alarm her mother with a sudden break-up. Maybe she doesn't care enough about me to even acknowledge a break-up. These were the kind of solemn thoughts the doctor couldn't stop from haunting her, challenging her, bringing her down. This needs to change, I need to do something. We can't keep hurting each other like this. Neither of our two crime fighting heroes received the benefits of a good night's sleep.
The next morning, Maura was standing in the kitchen, brewing herself, and Jane, a cup of Macchiato. Even though the detective had bought the instant coffee version of Starbucks' famous caffeinated drink, Maura refused to use them, even if it was to see the difference between the two. She knew, of course, that the one she brews herself tastes fresher and stronger than its time saving counterpart. Despite the fact that her demeanor wasn't as bubbly as usual, she couldn't help reminiscing on one positive memory in particular. Psychologists say that happy memories can help uplift someone's sour mood. Like that one time Jane brought me to the firing range and had me practice shooting with her nine millimeter handgun. The way she forced herself not to laugh as I shot all around the target and even took her time to give me useful tips on how to aim was just...adorable.
Jane woke up to a banging headache, a dry mouth, not to mention the unpleasant taste, and an empty bed. She rubbed her face, sighing deeply as she turned on her side. The detective closed her eyes for a second, waking up a second time as she heard the cupboards in the kitchen close with a clunk. She stretched her arms in front of her, letting them dangle from the edge of a bed for a few seconds before she stripped the covers from her body and stood up. She picked up a discarded pair of Jeans and slipped them on.
Jane rubbed her eyes as she slowly made her way into the kitchen. What she saw made her smile for the first time in what felt like a century. Maura was sitting down, nestling a cup of coffee in her hands. She was looking in front of her, smiling. There was a second cup of caffeine, which had been strategically placed in front of the doctor. Two small, extra strength Tylenol's had also been perfectly laid out beside the mug.
The detective took the seat in front of the honey-blond, popping both pills in her mouth and taking a small sip of the warm coffee to chase the chalkiness down. "What are ya smiling at?" She asked, her own smile making her cheeks hurt. She almost forgot what it felt like.
Maura's smile faded, her face growing somber as reality hit her like unexpectedly hitting your face on the corner of a wall. "Jane, I need to know," The anxious woman paused, looking straight down at the swirling dark brow liquid in her cup. "Are you cheating?" She quickly asked.
"Are you serious?" Jane's expression darkened as she could clearly see that the doctor wasn't lying. So that's what the conversation last night was about. She wasn't sure if she had dreamed it seeing how the memory was fuzzy. "I see how much your trust me." She replied bitterly. Standing up, she rubbed one hand over her mouth and down to her chin.
This is going to be trickier than I had expected. I need to stay focused on her reactions, her body language. If she's lying, I need to see it. "Jane, don't take it like that." The medical examiner pleaded.
"Well how am I supposed to take it, Maur?" Jane raised her voice, one hand on her hip, the other flailing around angrily.
"Will you please, for our relationship's sake, answer the question?" Maura questioned slowly, calmly. The blond was very well aware of Jane's defensive nature. She knew how to play it to prevent her from erupting into a volcano.
"I thought we had something mutual." The detective horsed as she picked up her Mark Jacobs leather jacket, roughly putting it on. "Guess I was wrong." She added, her steps heavy as she made her way towards the front door. She stopped with her hand on the door knob, however, as Maura's rarely angered voice boomed in the otherwise quiet house.
"Would you, for one second, just hear me out!?" The doctor said harshly as she too, stood up in a fit of anger. You know you have to keep your emotions in check if you want Jane to open up, calm yourself doctor. She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she took a deep breath. "These walls you build up Jane, I can't keep trying to take them down alone."
"What do you mean?" The detective asked. She stood in front of the door, her back to Maura, frozen in place.
Maura walked around the Island as she spoke. "Ever since we came back from our vacation, you haven't been the same. If you're not working overtime, you're out drinking and coming home late. We hardly ever do anything together, as a couple. I think you can see where my suspicions are coming from." She placed her hand on her girlfriend's leather-clad arm in a silent request towards the tall brunette. "I trust you Jane, I trust you with my life. I just-we haven't made love in over a month, I can't help but wonder if-"
Jane kept her head down, her dark curls hiding her pained expression. She knew very well what she had been hiding from the doctor, what she'd rather drown in alcohol instead of actually resolving. "I'm sorry, Maura. I'm so, so sorry." She whispered. Whatever walls she worked so hard on building up, crumbled down around her without a warning. She let her forehead rest against the door as warm, salty tears relentlessly trailed down her cheeks, dripping from her chin and ending their short route onto the woman's boots with a finishing splash.
"Jane," The doctor breathed. She gripped both of the brunette's wrists, forcing her to turn around.
The detective kept her head down, unable to show how vulnerable she was. How weak she had become. She leaned down; resting her creased forehead against Maura's soft, inviting shoulder.
"What are you sorry for?" Maura fully wrapped both of her arms around Jane's shaking shoulders, drawing the woman in closer. Although uncertain about Jane's actions, her heart was breaking for her. The doctor had never seen her in such a fragile state. This wasn't the Jane Rizzoli she knew, the woman she fell in love with.
Jane couldn't utter a word as violent sobs shook her whole body, making standing up an excruciating task. Before she, or Maura, could do anything about it, the Italian's knees touched the cold floor.
The petite woman that was holding her found herself in a mirrored position, soothingly rubbing large circles on Jane's back with one of her hands. She rested the other hand behind her head, delicately threading her fingers in soft, dark curls. Maura had to push any negative assumptions out of her head in order to give Jane her full attention. God knows she would forgive her for anything. A wise poet once said "He who cannot forgive breaks the bridge over which he himself must pass". Whatever Jane did could be forgiven, yet she would have a lot to make up for. No relationship can fully develop and grow on shaky grounds. Trust is important.
Everything that Jane had been chugging down, bottling up and calling it a night was now freely flowing like a newly opened champagne bottle. Let's just say, if she had a cork, it would have popped louder than a nuclear blast. The brunette tightly wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's back, feeling the slight rocking motion Maura had began.
Both women hadn't realized how long they have been stuck in this same position until Maura chanced a glance at her wrist watch. Jane's been crying for almost an hour now. She must be getting really-
"I'm thirsty." The first words spoken out of Jane's mouth were grave, like she had just woken up from a year long slumber.
Maura's voice wasn't has rugged as Jane's, though it was thick with emotion. "An excessive amount of crying over a long period of time without ingesting water can dehydrate you quite easily." Maura verbalized her thoughts as she slowly untangled her arms from the brunette's shoulders; both of them slowly standing up. The petite blonde walked to sink, filling a glass with cold water and ice.
Jane finally peeled off her jacket, throwing it on the counter as she took a seat on one of the stools. She sniffled, wiping the almost dried tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.
"Drink this." Maura handed the broken detective a cool class of water. She stood at the woman's side, watching her intently. However, she didn't press any questions right away. Jane would open up on her own time and according to the blond, the look on her face was indicative she was about to explain herself soon.
The refreshing liquid was gulped down faster than Giovanni can down a beer. "Thank you." Jane said in a whisper. she set it down on the counter, the two ice cubes stuck together at the bottom of the now empty glass. "I..." She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, licking her bottom lip before she started speaking again. "That night he was keeping you hostage," Chocolate brown eyes slowly looked up into a pair of hazel ones, looking for some sort of nod of approval before continuing.
The doctor nodded slowly, rubbing her hands together as she remembered how terrified she had been when he closed her off in the wall. She released the breath she hadn't realize she had been holding in. So that's what's been haunting her. Why didn't she tell me sooner?
"There was...there was a woman sitting on a chair. I couldn't, see. It was dark. She looked like you, I mean, I thought she looked like you. It was dark." Jane repeated her voice uneven. She looked down at her lap, playing with her fingers. "He shot her, in front of me, Maura. Made me believe it was you." She paused, running her slender fingers on her scared hand.
Maura's eye softened with realization. The shot I heard, the dead woman. They never mentioned what had happened. She snaked her arm around Jane's shoulder, giving them an encouraging squeeze.
"I went...ape shit, Maur, punched in his face until it couldn't be recognized as a face." Jane aimlessly rubbed her completely healed knuckles. She closed her eyes, tightening her jaw as she sucked in a shaky breath. "I'm just as bad as him, as every deranged fucker I ever arrested."
Maura placed her hand under Jane's chin, softly lifting it up so she could meet her gaze. "How can you say that, Jane? You acted out of pure rage and grief. You don't thrive on torturing innocents. You're not like them. You're nothing like them."
"Yes, I am." The detective hissed dangerously. "I wanted to hurt him; I wanted to be the one causing him the worst pain he ever felt." She confessed, clenching her hands into fists.
"Understandable considering what you-"
Jane shrugged away from her girlfriend's touch. "No, Maura. Don't you get it? I killed another human being out of pleasure. I like how he kept struggling under me, knowing that he'd never win, that only one of us would leave alive."
"Jane...Whatever you did, whatever happened, you can't compare the way you reacted to the state of psychosis that serial killers experience. You went through a very traumatic event, its completely normal to-" Once again, the petite blond was cut off by an agitated detective.
"Normal? I'm sick, Maura, I'm sick. I can't even stand myself sober. If I don't drink, the only thing I can think about is shoving my gun in my mouth and pulling the trigger." Jane felt a sting on her left cheek as soon as the words came out of her mouth.
"Don't you dare speak like that, ever again!" Maura yelled, the slow throbbing pain in the palm of her hand only registering when as she slowed down her breathing. "I'm sorry, Jane, I..."
"Its fine, I deserved it." The brunette turned away from Maura's shocked stare, lightly rubbing the sore spot on her cheek.
The slap surprised them both, but Maura's next question surprised them further. "Are you still in love with me?"
"How can you ask me that, Maura?" When she didn't answer, Jane continued. "There's not a word that can describe how much I adore you. I live because of you." She said, her eyes searching for Maura's.
"Then will you please see a consultant? If you love me, fix yourself Jane. Be the damsel in distress for once and accept the help." She was faced with Jane's skeptical stare. "If you won't do it for yourself, at least do it for me."
"I'd do anything for you." It was both a statement and an agreement. Jane stood up as the honey-blond enveloped her in a tight hug. She reciprocated the gesture, squeezing the woman as if her life depended on it.
The doctor hid her face in Jane's neck, smiling against the olive skin. "I love you Jane, so much." She said, kissing the flesh grazing her lips.
"I love you too Maura. I love you too." Jane repeated. The tightness and burning in her chest melted away in the hug, letting a warm, cozy feeling take its place.
Jane found herself in the office of BPD's personal consultant a day after her conversation with her girlfriend. Maura felt she might have pushed her too much, but the brunette reassured her she needed to have this consultation as soon as it was humanly possible.
The office had a very warm, homey feel to it. The desk was bulky and sat against the left wall, far in the corner. There was a small window behind the luxurious leather studded chair. The rest of the far wall was entirely covered with books of all sorts. There was a leather love seat, which matched the dark brown of the chair on the opposite wall. A twin of the love seat, replicated to sit a single occupant, was placed directly in front of it.
"Detective Jane Rizzoli," Doctor Barbara Fowler looked surprised to see the lanky detective enter her office. Sure she had an appointment, but the last time someone took the liberty of doing so for the brunette, she hadn't shown up. "How much are they paying you to be here?" The psychiatrist asked with a teasing tone.
Jane had met the women on several occasions. Each exchange ending in the same way: Dr. Fowler handed Jane her card and as soon as she was out of sight,she monotonously threw in the garbage. "I came here on my own, like a big girl." She retorted sarcastically, sitting in the middle of the love seat. "Well, that's half true."She readjusted both sides of her open leather jacket, parting her legs in a manly stance. She leaned forward, her wrists resting on her knees, dangling over the edge.
Dr. Fowler stood up from her gigantic throne of a chair, making her way towards the brunette. "I'm guessing the other half is Doctor Maura Isles, am I correct?" She said, taking a seat in front of the other woman. Barbara was Jane's elder by a few years. Her hair was long, light brown and sitting in a loose bun behind her head. She was dressed in an elegant grey pantsuit with a black, silky, undershirt. Black rimmed glasses fell on a slightly curved, but small nose.
Jane frowned at the implication. "How do you...?" Her eyes fell on the header of a news paper article which the doctor was holding up. There was a candid picture of Jane and Maura hugging each other after the rescue, surrounded by officers. The title read: "Lover's reunion?" In big, black, bold letters. "Nothing's a secret these days." She said somewhat bitterly.
"Private lives of celebrities and heroes are very open to the public, yes." The psychiatrist confirmed, folding the newspaper neatly and setting it on the ground beside her crossed legs.
"Right, I'll make sure to close the blinds before I get in the shower butt naked." She joked.
"Wise indeed, detective." Dr. Fowler leaned back in her chair, her notepad resting against her thigh, her other hand holding a fancy looking pen with gold accents. "So, I'm fairly sure you aren't here for tea and cookies. How are you coping with last month's...event?" She asked carefully, readjusting the glasses on her face.
Does every doctor sound the same? "Good...until I-" A pause. "Until we, came home." Jane replied, nervously fiddling with her fingers as she stared at the doctor's notepad. She had never talked to anyone else but her family and friend about her personal problems. Talking with a professional made it seem...real. She always thought people who seek out the help of consultants were desperate. They maybe look desperate, but they sure don't look like the mess you are right now, Rizzoli. Dark circles stained the usual olive skin color under her eyes. Self medicating with Whiskey never solved and never will solve anything.
"Describe to me what feelings surged during that specific time."
Jane licked her lips nervously before answering. She explained everything she had told Maura. The gruesome details didn't seem to chock Barbara. She must have heard her share of gritty murder stories from her badge-clad clientele. Halfway through the hour, the detective had taken off her jacket, laying it on the empty spot beside her as she leaned back in a more relaxed and comfortable position.
The psychiatrist didn't miss a beat after Jane's explanation, giving her an answer as if she had known all along. "Seems to me like your brain is using the same defensive coping mechanism it would have used if Dr. Isles would have, in fact, perished. Because the event changed dramatically, in such a short period of time, your brain is treating her survival like a death."
"You're sayin'...my brain is making me think she's dead?" The detective asked incredulously.
"In other words, you're living the emotions of someone in a depression fueled by grief."
"Hold up here a second," Jane held up both of her hands in the air, both silently and verbally asking for a time out. She leaned forward again. "I'm depressed now?"
"This is what I'm seeing, yes." Dr. Fowler cleared her throat, shooting the tall woman a warming look. She was quite accustomed to detectives becoming aggressive, but it was her first time seeing this aggression in a woman. "Because you were so overwhelmed with grief and anger when confronting the suspect, this-let's call it a fake reality- anchored itself in your brain as if it actually happened."
Jane snorted. "Sounds like a Tom Cruise movie synopsis to me."
Barbara ignored the comment. "Can you describe your interactions with Miss Isles during this past month?"
Jane shrugged, leaning back into the comfortable love seat, crossing her arms over her chest. "We kept our routines: we still slept in the same bed, went to lunch," She uncrossed her arms, playing with the hem of her Led Zeppelin t-shirt, pondering if she should share the memory swirling in her mind. "I always go down to the morgue, even if she didn't find anything specifically related to the case, bring her a coffee, a snack, kiss her goodbye and carry on with my work." The detective shared with a small smile.
"Would you say you did this out of habit?"
"Yeah, absolutely."
"Your actions were robotic, then?"
"You could say that."
"I see." Dr. Fowler stared at Jane for a second before scribbling down something on the paper.
The Italian looked at the notepad with curiosity. "Care to share?"
"We humans have emotions, some very strong, some very weak. These are manly stored in the left hemisphere of the brain, more specifically in what we call the limbic system." The woman said as she finished writing, smiling to herself at Jane's impatient nature. "When this system is either damaged by an accident or a traumatic event, the chemicals change. Sometimes the emotions are heightened, but this is very rare. In your case, detective, your emotions were toned down, almost numbed."
"I'm doing this to Maura?"
"Unconsciously. Your body is reacting like it normally would around your partner, while your emotions are almost nonexistent. They're both battling for dominance, confusing your thoughts and your reactions. Doubts come in, then suicidal thoughts. That is why you find solace in alcohol. It numbs everything, even the constant battle between the two realities."
"How do I fix it?" She asked after a long pause.
"I wouldn't say 'fixing' is the proper term. We simply have to increase the chemicals which fuel your emotions. Re-wire them to execute the job they have been doing all your life."
"And how exactly do we do that? Hook me up to machine and that's gonna zap me?" The brunette half-joked, though she knew nothing of this procedure, if it actually worked and if it was still used. If Maura would be here, she'd make it her pleasure to explain it to us in great, unnecessary detail.
The woman chuckled softly, leaning forward. "Nothing quite as drastic, detective. I think anti-depressants will suffice."
"All the horrible murders I've witnessed during my time as a patrol officer and a detective...What plunged me into a depression was my own crime." She said with a shake of her head, smiling bitterly. How fuckin' ironic, you dumbass.
"What you did, cannot be categorized as a crime or a murder, detective."
"I know, I know. 'Self defence' and all." Jane replied, using air quotes while she rolled her eyes at the term.
"You don't believe it was?" The psychiatrist questioned curiously.
"It was revenge. Pure and simple."
"It was a little bit of both. Regardless, you are not a murder and you certainly aren't a crazy psychopath."
"Really? Cause I sure feel like one." Jane replied with fake enthusiasm.
"Jane, if I may call you that," The woman paused, waiting for a nod of approval, which she received. "I can't force you to think positively of yourself, but what I can say is you save a lot of lives doing what you do. Innocents will always be, unfortunately, caught in the crossfire. You don't know all the good you're doing, detective."
"I think I liked it better when you called me Jane." She joked with a grin.
"Your Lieutenant wasn't joking when he said your first language was sarcasm." The doctor remarked as she scribbled the name of the anti-depressants she felt would work best with the mouthy brunette.
"Well, he always did walk, a little, stuck up." Jane stood up, walking without moving her backside, making sure not to flex her knees as she mocked her superior.
Dr. Fowler stifled her laughter behind her hand. She ripped the small prescription paper and extended it towards the goofy brunette. "Here's your prescription. Shall we schedule another consultation, detective?"
"As long as you call me Jane from now on." She teased as she grabbed the piece of paper from the woman's hand. Janee looked at it, rocking back and forth on her heels. She frowned, trying to make up what was written. Maur can figure it out. She folded it and stuffed in her jacket pocket.
"Alright, Jane. I suggest we see each other three times a week and follow your progress with the medication." The psychiatrist stood up also and set her notepad and pen on the corner of her desk "How does next Saturday, at noon, sound?"
"Like a lunch date. Don't worry, I won't tell Maura." The detective joked, playfully nudging the doctor's shoulder. No harm in flirting right? Unless there is harm. No harm here, no harm at all.
She smiled. "Have a good day, Jane." This woman keeps hiding her sorrow with humor. At least, it's a somewhat healthy practice.
"Right back at ya, Dr. Fowler."
"You make a fuss about me calling you by your first name, yet you refer to me by my professional title?"
Jane smirked. "That's 'cause I'm classy, doctor." With that said, she stepped out of the office quickly, not letting room for any retort.
The detective stepped inside their house. Our house. That makes us sound like we're married.Jane looked and felt exhausted. The blond wasn't anywhere in sight. Bass was languidly crossing the path from the living room to the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks, turning his head towards Jane, one of his tiny front leg in mid air. He then let his stumpy leg touch the ground and turned his body, heading towards the brunette.
"Hey, bud, don't strain yourself there." Chuckling to herself, the detective crouched down and gently patted Bass's tiny head. "Where's your mommy, hmm?" The tortoise remained unresponsive. "Well you're a big help."
Jane sighed. She stood up, threw her jacket on the back of the couch as she slowly walked into the hallway. Maura's car is in the driveway. She wouldn't have wondered off very far without her car. As the detective approached their bedroom, she could hear ruffling noises and two...wait, three different voices. She yanked the door open. "What the hell...is going on here?" Her question fell flat as her worried gaze faltered over the three occupants in her bedroom. "Ma? Frankie?" She asked in a high pitched tone. "The hell are you all doing in my bedroom...with my girlfriend?" She asked in the same tone, raising a questioning brow.
"Well, we heard you come in so-" The police officer started and was cut off by an annoyed detective.
"So you decided to play hide and seek in my bedroom? Wait, why are you all hiding from me to begin with?" Jane frowned as she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at each one of them equally. We wouldn't want one of them to feel excluded right?
Angela ran into her daughter, wrapping both her arms around the brunette, trapping her arms at her side. "Oh my baby, we just want you to be happy. I'm such a horrible, horrible mother."
"Maur, did you bake them weed brownies?" The disgruntled brunette hissed.
"Absolutely not." The doctor replied with a frown, slightly offended by that accusation.
"My only daughter was depressed and I couldn't even see it." Angela hadn't let go of the taller woman as she kept chastising herself. Frankie joined in the hug after some coaxing from his mother.
I see that guilty face..."Really, Maura, really?" Jane groaned as her older sibling joined the hug. She managed to untangle her arms from the crushing embrace and pointed a finger at her mother. "How does she-" Her accusing finger then changed directions and landed on a pouting doctor. "How do you even know?"
"Dr. Fowler called to inform me I should pick up your prescription today." Maura said in an innocent voice, pursing her lips together.
"That doesn't explain to me why- Okay, you two, you can stop with the hugging now." The brunette growled. Both her mother and her brother took a step back with sheepish grins on their faces. "You told them?" She finished, smoothing out the creased on her shirt created by the sudden assault.
Maura quickly stepped in front of her girlfriend, taking both of her hands in her own. "Honey, I didn't mean to. Frankie and your mother came by to visit and they asked where you were and..."
"You couldn't lie, yeah I know." Jane finished the sentence for her, sighing as she looked down at their joined hands.
"I'm sorry." Maura whispered, giving the woman a small, almost shy, apologetic smile.
"It's fine." Jane whispered back, snaking both of her lanky arms around the doctor's petite frame.
Maura placed one of her hands on the taller woman's cheek, gazing into a pair of deep brown eyes. "How did it go?" She let her hand fall onto Jane's shoulder, linking her fingers behind the woman's dark locks.
"Alright. Better than I thought it was gonna be." The detective revealed.
"I'm glad."
"Yeah, aren't you just glad you have a depressed detective for a girlfriend?" Jane asked sarcastically.
"Jane..." Maura whispered sadly. "We both...made mistakes, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, every step of the way."
Frankie spoke up: "Me too, Janie. Anythin' you need, you just ask your big brother."
Jane stared at the officer with a fake, over-exaggerated smile. She then turned to the doctor, with the same facial expression. "Yeah, thanks, Maura." She lowered her voice dangerously.
"I'll go get your pills." Was the first thing that crossed Maura's mind in order to escape Jane's impending moodiness. She moved her hands behind her own back and placed them onto Jane's hands. She gave them a slight squeeze, excusing herself from the predicament she put her girlfriend in. She moved the detective's hands away from her waist so she could head into the living room and grab both her keys and her purse.
"Aren't you forgetting somethin', Maur?" Jane called out, holding up Dr. Fowler's prescription paper. She smirked as the woman stopped and turned around slowly. The detective took a few long strides towards the living room.
"Oh right. Of course." The petite blond chuckled nervously, meeting Jane halfway. She plucked the piece of paper from the woman's fingers and folded it into her purse. She mouthed 'I'm sorry' with a frown as she leaned in to kiss the taller woman. "Have fun." Maura said cheerily, lightly tapping Jane's cheek before exiting the house, successfully this time.
The brunette closed the door and rolled her eyes. She took a deep breath and turned around, clapping her hands together as she smiled at her family members. "Like, oh, my, God, guys. We are going to have so much fun." She said with her best Paris Hilton impression.
Also just putting it out there, anyone see a wedding approaching? Too soon...? Yes, no?