Chapter Fourteen

"Down here, it's our time!"

Jane knew the line by heart, and she pumped a fist into the air as her and Frankie's voices echoed along with the familiar characters onscreen. Her brother had been lucky enough to miss Phillip and Constance, but he had more than made up for it by bringing over the one movie that had never failed to entertain them as kids. "Frankie, good call," Jane said. "I definitely needed this."

"Hey, it's a classic," he agreed, modestly shrugging his shoulders and grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl that sat in front of him.

Jane grinned as she nodded, angling her voice down at the blonde head resting in her lap. "Maur, there was an entire year that whenever Ma told us to do something, we just said that line, over and over. Drove her crazy." When she got no response from the still form below her, she gingerly moved a piece of hair from Maura's cheek. She was sound asleep.

Jane softened her tone as she peered back up at Frankie. "Apparently the good Dr. Isles isn't amused by the finer artistic points of Goonies."

"I don't blame her," Angela called from the kitchen. "Both of you should be exhausted."

Judging by the way Maura hadn't moved in over half an hour, and the stillness of her face even amidst the loudness drifting over her, Jane was more than certain exhaustion had finally taken her over. She hadn't even put up a fight when Frankie came home brandishing his prized copy of Goonies, a movie that had coached the Rizzoli kids through sicknesses, days out of school, broken arms, and the emotional traumas of youth. Maura had simply settled her leg atop a pillow at the end of the couch and let her head fall into Jane's lap, an easily natural, but meaningful gesture.

Angela eased into a chair beside them, sighing, the familiar scent of her lasagna wafting through the air. When it came to her mother's cooking, Jane could easily overlook the less than refined tastes of her family; homemade lasagna would win out over galleries and Parisian homes any day. Angela looked over at her, lowering her voice for Maura's benefit. "Do you really think Constance was serious about inviting us to her chateau?"

Jane rolled her eyes at the television. "Well, I'd say Constance has a track record of being polite and not delivering, yeah," Jane replied with a one-shouldered shrug. "Who knows?"

Frankie leaned over toward the popcorn bowl, grabbing another handful and tossing a kernel toward Jane, who glared at him as it landed somewhere in her unruly curls. "Why can't I date a girl with a place in France?" he complained.

Angela gave him a reprimanding frown as she leaned over toward the couch, her fingers fluttering through Jane's hair. "Don't throw popcorn into your sister's hair, you know it takes days to find things in there." She fished around a second more before plucking out the rogue kernel and tossing it back to him.

"Well, if what Constance said was true, you'll be there, too," Jane reminded him, glancing down at Maura, who shifted slightly, her lolling away from the television screen. "Yaaaaay me."

Frankie shook his head. "Uh-uh. Not if I make detective. No time off for the rookie."

Jane grinned at him. "That's a sacrifice you're willing to make, I'd imagine."

"You bet."

Angela reached forward, beckoning for the popcorn bowl. "I think France would be so romantic. When else am I going to get to go? Your father would have never taken me. And in my day, we didn't have the chance to take such luxurious field trips for school."

Jane rolled her eyes towards Frankie, and he returned her annoyance, both more than familiar with the resentment their mother harbored over a particular tenth grade field trip that the two of them were lucky enough to take. "Are you still salty that you didn't get to chaperone that band trip? Come on, Ma, it's been seventeen years."

"I could have gone if your father hadn't decided to run off to that plumbing conference in Nevada. A lot of good it did him, anyway."

Jane put a hand to her temple, but decided against coming down too hard on her mother, mostly because the smell of the lasagna canceled out any attempt at anger. At times she still felt a pang of empathy for her mother, usually followed by a jolt of disappointment in her father. "Ma, if anyone deserves this trip, you do. I'll make sure it happens."

"This is why you're my favorite daughter," Angela said, always pleased with the joke, no matter how many times she used it. "How's your shoulder feeling?"

"Broken," Jane answered with a faint smirk.

Angela ignored her. "You should take the rest of that medication that I left out on the counter. But only after you eat. And the same for Maura. And remember, popcorn doesn't count as dinner."

Jane smiled down at the still sleeping form in her lap. Maura's head had turned, lolling slightly into her stomach and giving her a perfect view of her closed eyes and relaxed, slack features. "It doesn't seem as if this one's having any trouble sleeping." In a way, she envied the heavy slumber. A faint buzz still ran through her own body, keeping her from easing into any sort of relaxation. She had even forgone the first dose of pain meds her mother had tried to force on her, too afraid that she would be caught off-guard by some unseen danger.

"Speaking of lasagna," Frankie said, rising from his chair, "I think I'll help myself."

Angela raised a finger at him. "And then help yourself next door. We're going to let these two get some rest."

Jane's head veered toward her mother. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my overbearing mother?" she asked disbelievingly.

Angela tossed a dismissive hand at her, getting up from her chair and looking down at her with a pair of tired, but grateful eyes. "Frankly, I need some time to lock myself in my bathroom, bawl my eyes out, and say a few prayers. I'll be back to my usual self tomorrow, don't you worry." She leaned over, placing a kiss on the crown of Jane's head and plucking another piece of popcorn from her hair. "I love you both."

"Love you, too, Ma," Jane half grumbled, but gave her a small smile. "Frankie," she called, a bit louder. "Don't take all the lasagna."

Her brother appeared at the side of the couch with a Tupperware container that seemed to hold more than his fair share of dinner, but he simply shrugged. "I'm a budding detective," he said. "I need nutrients." Grinning, he reached out and gave her a fist bump before heading towards the door.

Angela followed him, but turned back to the living room, calling over her shoulder. "Don't forget to pick up Bass' leaves from his placemat. They'll wilt if you don't."

"Ma, you've been living next to Maura for too long. Should I serve him some excrement tea, too?"

"You really should give that tea a try. "It has healing properties."

"Good night, Ma."

"It's good for your digestion - "

"Good night, Ma."

Jane gave a satisfied smile as the door clicked shut, and returned her attention to the movie still playing itself out on the screen. Her fingers found their way toward Maura's hair, smoothing a few rogue strands away from her forehead. "In here, it's our time," she murmured, for a moment lost in the peace etched across Maura's face.

As if the sudden quiet had tipped some auditory balance in the room, Maura shifted, her eyes fluttering open. "It's over?" she whispered, and although Jane knew she was referencing the movie, she preferred to answer another, more comforting question. As far as she was concerned, she wanted to put the terror of the past week behind them.

"Yeah, it's over," she assured her, bringing Maura's hand up to her lips, kissing it through her smile. "What'd you think of the movie, Sleeps McGee?" she asked jokingly, knowing she couldn't have seen more than five minutes of it before conking out in her lap.

Maura, however, didn't miss a beat. "I thought it was a decent, multidimensional bildungsroman that effectively communicated the onslaught of industrialization into the modern American suburb."

Jane's lower lip dropped as she stared down at her. "Okay, it's official. You are frighteningly inhuman. And don't ever talk about Goonies with such a refined vocabulary."

Maura chuckled, but reached out and fingered the DVD case on the coffee table. "I read the summary."

"Of course you did." Jane tossed a thumb over her shoulder. "You hungry? Ma left us some lasagna. Her best comfort food."

Maura gazed up at her, sleep still thick in her eyes. "Can you just eat for me?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"I can always eat for two, yeah," Jane replied. "But you should at least have a bit and take some aspirin before you pass out again."

Maura rose at the waist, carefully shifting her legs to the floor. She took a moment to get her bearings, as if she didn't quite believe she was back in her own home. Her tired hazel eyes studied Jane's shoulder. "I'm going to get you some hydrocodone," she said. "But eat before you take it. Otherwise your paraxial circumventricular organ will trigger emesis - "

"Give me the Goonies version, Maur."

Maura looked at her plainly. "You'll puke." She shook her head. "I'm using adolescent colloquialisms; it's time for bed." She moved to stand, but Jane put a hand on her arm.

"Just eat a small bite of something. It doesn't have to be lasagna. I can pick up Bass' uneaten lotus leaves and let you have those if you want." She gave a small, hopeful smile.

Maura recognized the good intention behind the humor, and although her brain was clearly programmed against food at the moment, she nodded anyway. "I'll have what you have," she said.

"Good," Jane replied, taking her hand and gently lifting Maura's leg back onto the coffee table. "Sit back and enjoy the healing powers of Italian food." As she headed into the kitchen towards the pan of lasagna, she frowned at the fact that Frankie had filched much more than she would have liked, but she spooned a couple of helpings onto one of the plates waiting beside the stove. Beside it lay a plate of pain pills and two napkins; her mother had thought of everything. "What did you eat for comfort food as a kid?" she called. "Caviar?"

"Prosciutto, caper berries, and cheese," Maura responded lightly as Jane walked back to her.

"That sounds like punishment," Jane laughed as she set the plate onto Maura's lap and handed over a fork. "We're sharing. I could only carry one plate." She sat next to her, diving in with her own fork. "You never told me how the talk with your Dad went. He was a lot quieter after. That a good thing or a bad thing?"

Maura chewed thoughtfully before responding. "He's not always the most open about what he's feeling. Sometimes he hides behind a wall of academia."

"Yeah, no shit," Jane concurred, her mouth full. "What's funny, is that whatever he does out there, digging around for artifacts, sounds pretty awesome. Too bad no one would ever know it by talking to him."

"He can be aloof."

"Yeah, and out of all the languages he speaks, I don't think a one is standard English. I could barely understand anything he said." She glanced over at Maura, who raised an eyebrow at her.

"Anything else?"

Jane swallowed her bite, and offered an apologetic glance. "Sorry. But you're just as brilliant as he is, probably even more so, and you're sweet and likeable."

Maura corrected her. "And humorous."

This time it was Jane that raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that a joke?" she asked.

Maura's mouth twitched lightly. "Yes."

Jane laughed. "Okay, yes: you're sweet, likeable, and funny." She trailed her fork through the lasagna. "Your mom seems to be less uptight, though. Inviting us all out to visit."

"I know, I can't believe she took me seriously," Maura said, taking another dainty bite. "She never used to allow me to invite friends there."

"Did you have friends?"

Maura's lip curled into a small smile. "No. But I bet I would have, if my mother had let me invite them to France."

Jane laughed. "Well, you've certainly won yourself a girlfriend with this Southern French chateau idea." As her words penetrated the air, Jane stuffed another bite into her mouth, certain her cheeks were the same color as the red sauce oozing from the lasagna.

Maura smiled coyly at her, noting the blush across her cheeks, which only made the comment mean more to her. "Then I guess it's paid off," she said softly, leaning over and pressing a kiss against Jane's temple. "Finish your dinner and then come to bed with me."

"Okay," Jane answered automatically, her lips parting in slight anticipation at the mere invitation, even if they were encumbered by injured limbs. "Maybe I'll just finish eating in the bedroom," she tried, more than aware of Maura's policy of food in places where it didn't belong. Sure enough, the hazel eyes flashed up at her before narrowing.

"You are not eating anything in my bed, Jane."

"Ooo, I think you'll regret that," Jane replied, arching an eyebrow as she leaned over just slightly and placed her lips against Maura's. "After all, some things taste better in bed." From the way the kiss was reciprocated, she was sure her meaning had been understood.

"Behave," Maura instructed as she broke the kiss, but the flush around her neck belied her chastisement. She used the coffee table for leverage as she got to her feet, balancing on one foot as Jane reached up to steady her hips. "I'm going to fix your side of the bed," she said matter-of-factly, attempting to regain her composure. "It's best if you lay at a forty-three degree angle so as not to upset the clavicle during your sleep cycle." She pursed her lips. "We're going to need a lot of pillows. I'm going to raid the guest room." She glanced down at Jane's half-empty plate. "Don't forget to take - "

"My meds, I know," Jane cut in with a smile. "Go climb into bed. I'll see you in a few minutes." She scrunched her eyebrow, eyeing the bandage wrapped around Maura's leg. "On second thought, maybe don't climb into bed."

Maura's chuckle drifted over her shoulder as she turned toward the bedroom, the rubber balls of her crutches padding along the hardwood floor. She glanced once more at Jane, whose attention had turned to the curtained window. Maura recognized the hardness of her jaw and the thin line of her lips, a look that, up until this past week she had associated only with an open case at work. Now it meshed seamlessly into their own personal lives, a look of protection that frightened her while at the same time making her feel incredibly, unbelievably safe.

Her left leg felt huge, a pulsing, but tolerable pain complementing the swelling underneath the white bandage. She certainly hadn't helped it by running on it so fiercely, but that was nothing compared to the pain of what could have happened at the warehouse.

"Stop it, Maura," she coached, shaking her head as she rounded the side of the guest bed, plucking two pillows from it and struggling to carry them while keeping her crutches steady under her arms. As she walked into the comfort of her own bedroom, arranging the pillows into what would hopefully be a tolerable angle for Jane, she couldn't halt the onslaught of intrusive thoughts. If it wasn't memories of the car ride or the burning warehouse, it was the thought of her parents, and the question of her biological mother, which she now had the opportunity to explore further.

A splash of cold water from the bathroom sink, coupled by the mundane task of brushing her teeth helped her slide back into reality, until she eventually slunk onto her bed. Her shoulders weighted her towards the firm mattress, and she shimmied out of her skirt and blouse, but the thought of moving towards her bureau seemed like too tiring an idea. She simply lay back, closing her eyes, content with the darkness until she could once again lean into Jane's comforting touch.

Jane finished the rest of the lasagna quickly, making her way to the kitchen, her eyes drifting out into the darkness outside as she ran water over the sauce-stained plate. It wasn't the pain in her shoulder or the fatigue clouding her head, but the darkness outside that made her most uncomfortable. A beer would help calm her nerves, but she settled instead for a glass of water and a pain pill.

She flipped Maura's porch light off and on, making a mental note to put in a brighter bulb. As the thought flickered, then died away, like the light itself, she chuckled under her breath. "Calm down, Rizzoli." The last thing Maura would want for her peaceful, manicured terrace would be for Jane to light it up like a football field.

Walking into the bedroom, she glimpsed Maura sprawled on her back, a hand draped over her stomach. Jane couldn't help but follow the line of a nude leg all the way up to the pair of green underwear that Maura wore underneath a simple white camisole. As she walked closer, she reluctantly bypassed letting her hand runs across the top of an appealing thigh. As if sensing Jane's presence, Maura awoke gently, her eyes falling open as a smile graced her face.

"Well, you look comfortable," Jane observed.

Maura's eyes fluttered down to her attire, an arm tiredly crossing her forehead. "I had every intention of slipping into pajamas, but this was as far as I got. Hope it doesn't bother you." Her voice was still thick with built-up sleep.

"Unless you count hot and bothered, then no," Jane replied with a laugh, this time allowing her hand to roam freely over Maura's thigh.

"Come lay next me," Maura murmured, reaching up and taking Jane's hand.

Jane laughed, glancing down at the appealing sight beneath her. "I kind of wish I was doing more than just that," she said, only half joking.

Maura shifted, sitting up, her fingers reaching towards the shoulder sling. "Let me help you with this." She expertly unbuckled the outer sling, but frowned as Jane took over, attempting to maneuver her t-shirt off with one arm. Maura watched patiently, sliding her legs to the floor, and simply waited until Jane exhausted her failing efforts.

It didn't take long. "Forget it," she huffed. "I'm wearing this shirt for the next six weeks. I hope you like it."

"Come here," Maura coached gently, pulling her inwards and helping her pull it over her shoulders. She let her eyes fall immediately to the brace that wrapped tightly around her shoulder and upper chest, keeping the bone in place. "How does that feel?" she asked. "Supportive?"

"It feels like I'm wearing shoulder Spanx," Jane replied with a grimace, her hand going up self-consciously to cover her bare chest.

"There's a shirtdress in my closet," Maura offered, noting the flush that crept across Jane's neck, as if she wasn't aware of how beautiful she was. "It will probably fit more like a shirt on you, but it will be a bit easier to pull off and on."

Jane eyed Maura's closet wearily. "Uh-uh," she said. "There's no way I'm going to be able to find anything in that Taj Mahal of a closet."

Maura smiled at her. "It's on the first rack on your right, beige section, knee-length dresses."

"Thank you, Closet Genie," Jane murmured, taking a step towards the closet, but Maura grabbed her free arm, eyeing the pants she still wore.

"Let me help you with these," she said.

Jane was still covering her chest, which wasn't hard to do considering her arm was locked into place, and she stared down at Maura's fingers as they fidgeted with her belt buckle. Her pants moved easily down her hips, and she began to step out of them, but Maura stilled her firmly, her hands moving to the waistband of the black briefs still gracing her hips. The clear, hazel eyes shifted upwards, as if checking in, and Jane gave a tacit nod, allowing her briefs to follow the path of her pants, leaving her bare beneath Maura's burning gaze. She was more than aware of the imperfections that littered her body: scars, unhealed nicks and scrapes, not to mention the unbecoming sling that encased her shoulder. Maura's eyes grazed lovingly over all of them, until they once again locked onto Jane's, and she leaned forward, pressing a kiss just underneath her belly button.

"I thought you were tired," Jane said softly, her voice huskier as Maura's lips trailed across her stomach.

"There's an increase of adrenaline with the spike in sexually responsive testosterone," Maura replied, her scientific explanation cut short as she moved her lips across another inch of skin. The taut stomach in front of her had played a leading role in many of her fantasies, but as her hands moved across Jane's torso and around to her back, Maura simply relished the feel of her. Having almost lost her at the warehouse, she wanted to lose herself in her smoothness, her strength, her scent.

As her lips moved lower, Jane automatically arched into her, vainly attempting to keep the upper half of her body still. Her knees shook slightly as Maura's tongue teased even lower, the anticipation of her caresses rendering her knees weak. "If you keep going," she whispered, "I think my legs are going to be just as useless as yours."

The words seemed to pull Maura out of her reverie, and her lips slowly retraced their path back up, resting her forehead resignedly against Jane's stomach. "This is a normal response to trauma," she said logically, her fingers trailing absently over the scar at Jane's abdomen, a reminder of another time when she had almost lost her. "Searching for a physical connection as a grounder from intrusive, frightening thoughts of mortality."

Jane knelt carefully, sliding in between Maura's legs and using her free hand to pull her closer. "Does this ever turn off?" she asked, pressing her lips against her temple, as if she half expected to feel Maura's thoughts buzzing underneath her lips.

Maura met her eyes, the stillness around them seemed siphoning them off from the rest of the world. "Sometimes," she whispered softly before leaning into Jane and meeting her mouth, their kiss deepening, each of them compensating for the immobility of their bodies with nubile, probing tongues.

Jane moaned, knowing they could only go so far, but she couldn't resist letting her uninjured hand venture underneath Maura's shirt and caress the smooth skin of her stomach, slowly inching upwards. Maura arched into her touch as much as her leg would allow, voicing her frustration through a heavy moan, her teeth nibbling Jane's lower lip.

"I'd take this off for you," Jane murmured, fingering the edge of the camisole that was becoming more burdensome as she tried to delve underneath it. "But I think I'd lose some of my sexy if I tried it with just one hand."

Maura smiled, leaning back slightly and slipping it easily over her head. Her bra followed, and she welcomed Jane's heated gaze against her newly bared skin. Whereas less than a week ago that same gaze had dismantled her, and made her nervous, it now excited her, firing a series of pleasurable sensations across her skin.

Jane's eyes ran heatedly across the perfect flesh in front of her. The fog of sleep had lifted from Maura's eyes and was now replaced by a darker lust, her tongue running slowly over her lower lip as she bent forward to capture Jane's mouth once again.

Knowing she would more than likely regret the move, Jane rose clumsily to her feet, pushing Maura back and using her good arm to steady herself over her. Her need escalated, and she cursed the pain in her shoulder which was now throbbing almost as much as the need that pulsed through her. Maura's hands rested on her hips, but moved downward, causing Jane to lurch forward, her shoulder jerking as a first hint of pleasure pinged through her. It was quickly overshadowed by a sharp pain along her collarbone, and she broke the kiss with a quick inhale, lurching upward. "Ow!"

Maura's eyes popped open, her hands sliding quickly back to a more chaste place along Jane's hips as she jerked her legs back, her own cry echoing Jane's as pain sluiced up her shin. "Are you okay?" she asked breathlessly, peering down at Jane, who had collapsed onto her knees, her eyes pinged shut. "Did you upset the coracoid process?"

Jane peeked one eye open at her, breathing hard. "No, I mostly just upset my libido," she answered, grimacing as she cupped her elbow with her good hand. "What about you, your leg okay?" Jane looked up at her as she smiled through her pain.

Maura nodded, reaching for her. "How about this time, you actually just lay down with me?" she asked, settling back onto the bed and stretching her leg gingerly in front of her as she patted the space next to her.

Jane slumped onto the bed next to her, grimacing as she settled back against the plethora of pillows Maura had set up for her. "I know this is better than the alternative," she sighed."You know, of being dead and all, but this really sucks." Despite the pain radiating in her shoulder, her eyes didn't stray far from the bareness of Maura's thighs, and she reached down and jerked the comforter over them. "I can't stare at that temptation anymore."

Maura laughed, the action eclipsing the throb in her lower leg. "Only six weeks. You'll be back to boxing around that horrid dummy in your apartment in no time." She cocked her head. "Although there are cases where the sphenoid muscle doesn't always fuse correctly back into the scapula. But it's rare."

"Thank you, Patch Adams" Jane said, rolling her eyes. "Keep that horrible beside manner at the morgue."

Maura chuckled softly. "You know, after everything that's happened, I don't mind hibernating for awhile."

"That doesn't seem like the Dr. Isles I know," Jane observed. "The same woman who's never missed a day at work. Or taken a lunch away from her desk."

"Maybe my father was right, in a way," Maura continued. "What if we both just need a break from this for awhile?"

Jane didn't answer. She had never envisioned herself sitting behind a desk, or clocking in at a mundane job each day. Her job was dangerous, but it was worthwhile, and she lived for the feeling of purpose that it gave her. She had always wondered why Maura was attracted to the work; with her mind, she could sit on national panels, make groundbreaking scientific discoveries. "I think it's worth asking yourself why you do this work in the first place," she said.

"Because I'm strange," Maura replied simply.

Jane smiled over at her. "I don't think that's the reason." She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, quickly correcting herself. "I don't think that's the only reason."

Staring up at the ceiling, Maura let a moment pass before she attempted to continue. "I guess I do it because growing up, I didn't have anyone to speak for me. Parents or friends, or anything like that. I just want to speak for those who can't speak for themselves anymore."

"Cue forensics recruitment ad," Jane teased, but she reached for her hand. "Maybe we're both a little strange." She traced the fine lines of Maura's fingers. You know, together we make one whole functional person," she observed, motioning between her shoulder and Maura's bandaged leg.

"Jane, that's so sweet," Maura replied, not catching the gesture between their injured limbs. "That's the nature of a relationship, I suppose," she sighed. "Opposites attract, each person has attributes that help the couple forge toward greatness. Eleanor and Franklin Roosevelt, Bill and Hillary Clinton, Marie and Pierre Curie..." Her thoughts meandered. "Although they both died as a result of their work with radiation."

Jane glanced over at her, raising her eyebrows. "I meant... physically," she corrected, pointing between them. "More of a... Frankensteinian kind of way."

"Ah," Maura replied, the meaning dawning on her. "Right." She blushed slightly, but smiled it away. Jane enjoyed that look, as if they were newly dating, rather than old friends simply taking their relationship to the next level. She rather enjoyed the fact that she could still make Maura Isles slightly nervous.

"So, promise me you won't go gallivanting off with your dad to Southern Tanzania? At least not before these six weeks of recovery hell are up?"

"I think you'll end up liking my dad," Maura said.

Jane grinned over at her. "The two of you are a lot alike, it seems. Besides the fact that you speak your own scientific language that no one else can understand. Like father, like daughter." She glanced over at her, gauging her response as she continued, hoping she wasn't overstepping her bounds. "You're definitely Phillip Isles' daughter, Maur, not Paddy Doyle's."

"Nurture seems to have played a major role in my upbringing," she agreed, fidgeting nervously with her fingers. "I still wonder about my mother, though." She shook her head. "But to fall in love with a guy like Paddy Doyle, she couldn't have been too bright."

"You don't know that, Maur, she was probably just young and a little naïve. Do you want to find her?"

Maura didn't answer right away, but eventually nodded. "Yes." She purposely stilled her fingers, entwining them with Jane's once again, hoping the touch would pull her back from the spiral of her biological parents. "First, though, I want to enjoy the family I have now. In France."

"Are we really all going to vay-cay together in a French chateau?"

"Of course," Maura answered. "Don't lesbians generally trend toward this sort of immediate engulfment into long-term relationship behavior?"

"I wouldn't call this new," Jane replied with a low chuckle. "How long have we known each other again?"

Maura didn't disappoint, and once again rattled off the number with startling quickness. "Three years, four months, and six days. "

"Right. Well, I've loved you for at least three years, four months, and two days. So I'd say this trip is a long time coming. There's nothing immediate about it, trust me."

Maura smiled up at her with a pair of hopeful eyes. "It wasn't love at first sight?" she asked playfully. "Are you saying that I am an acquired taste?"

"No..." Jane replied, glancing over at her with a devilish grin. "I'd say you have quite an addictive taste, from what I can tell."

Maura laughed, moving her head closer to Jane's and more on level with the pyramid of pillow she lay against. "Is that your bedroom talk, Jane Rizzoli?"

"Depends on if it's working."

Maura sighed happily, running a hand along Jane's stomach, teasing her flesh. "I think this experiment is working," she said softly.

"Why's that?"

Maura looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "Because I've never wanted to touch someone more than I do right now. And yet I am completely, utterly content just to be laying beside you."

Jane started to offer a wisecrack of some sort, but instead she paused, allowing Maura's words to sink past the layer of bravado she so often brandished. "Me too," she agreed quietly. She shifted, allowing Maura to place her head in the crook of her good arm. "How do you say, 'I'm so lucky to have a cyborg of my very own' in French?"

Maura chuckled, looking up at her. "As translator, I'm going to take the liberty of modifying that a little and excising 'cyborg'." Her voice took on a softer lilt. "'Je suis tellement chanceuse de vous avoir'."

"How do you say, 'I'd like a beer with a tiny umbrella in it, please?'"

Maura's laughter grew as she rolled her eyes. "French lessons will start tomorrow."

"How do you say, 'Maura and I are going to go skinny dipping'?"

"Jane..."

"How do you say - "

"Go to sleep, Jane."

"Say it to me in French."

"Vous êtes impossible."

Jane laughed, gleaming at least part of Maura's meaning, but her smile eased into one more natural, and she looked over at the woman lying next to her. "How do you say, 'I love you'?"

Maura returned her gaze. "I think you've been a citizen of the world long enough to know how to say that," she said with a smile.

"I want to hear you say it, though," Jane whispered, letting her fingers trace slowly up Maura's arm, enjoying the row of goose bumps prickling underneath her touch.

Maura edged closer to her, leaning in and planting a kiss at the corner of her lips, the shadows playing across her eyes. "Je t'aime."

Jane's face lit up with a smile, her own love melting the anxiety and fear that had plagued her for most of the day. Maura had colored her world in a new way, and the only thing she wanted to do for the next six weeks of recovery was share it with her. "Je t'aime," she repeated, nodding and placing a kiss atop Maura's head. "I think that's all the French I need to know."


Bonus interactive feature: read this chapter while listening to Jessie Ware's 'Wildest Moments'. Thank you for reading, and please, don't hesitate to let me know what you think: the good, the bad, the ugly.

I have an Epilogue coming for you all - guess where it's set? :)

Thanks Cat and Ren for the read-through!