Author's note: thank you everyone for the reviews and the suggestions!
Chapter Thirty-Four: In The Morning Light
As the sound of Jane's footsteps resounded loud in the corridor, Maura looked up from the pregnancy book she had borrowed from her wife and smiled at the brunette as she entered the bedroom with a tray in hand. The scientist's eyes widened before the profusion of food and drinks. Fresh orange juice and a couple of different teas.
"This is a better breakfast than the one they serve at the Ritz." Minus the champagne but you will catch back on it later, Isles. She discarded the book and sat up in bed while Jane settled the tray on it.
"It almost didn't make it here. Blame Jo Friday who was literally clutched to me as I took the stairs. I almost fell down twice. Anyway..." The Italian sat back on her side of the bed – held a glass of orange juice to Maura – and cheered. "Merry Christmas."
Pause. The medical examiner frowned. "We are on December, 23rd. It isn't Christmas yet." As the sun pierced through white clouds and came to caress her naked shoulder, Maura took a deep breath before focusing on the sensation. A comforting one.
"By tomorrow, your parents will be here as well as half of my family. Believe me, Christmas is today... The real – sweet – and quiet one. Enjoy it because it won't last."
The scientist nodded and took a sip of her drink. "The birthdate of Jesus is – anyway – very approximate and uncertain. Some sources say it might have been in March. As a matter of fact, there is a very interesting essay about the..."
Jane rolled her eyes – grabbed her pregnancy book – and sweetly hit Maura's head with it to make her stop talking. She wasn't there to discuss Bible facts and birthdates. A post-it slid off the book, landed on the blanket. "Shit." She picked it up – opened the parenting guide – and meticulously put back the little piece of paper at the right page. It was full of annotations.
"Is this your very own Bible?"
Jane smiled at the question then shrugged while looking at the multicolored pages. She had never used a book so much, not even in junior college. This one would be worn-out by the time Maura gave birth.
"Don't tell her but I'm glad ma' bought it for us. It's super interesting and has plenty of details in it. But now I want the one about maternity. There's a whole collection. This one's just about pregnancy. I want to read the rest too."
It was cute. Maura found Jane's deep interest cute, and reassuring somehow. They didn't talk about it a lot – when perhaps they should – but she hoped that the Italian had found her place in this pregnancy in spite of not carrying the babies. They did their best to share a maximum of things – from the Doppler to massages – but there were still details that Jane woudn't experience and Maura found it unfair.
"Would you like to be pregnant?" The question came up by itself. If she had thought twice about it then the scientist wouldn't have dared to ask. Not that it was inconceivable but Jane had turned forty and that was not helping if she ever wanted to give it a try.
"I don't know..." Jane shrugged – blushed – and nervously played with her gluten-free pancake, the real downside of this breakfast. Why did it have to be all organic and gluten free? "I'm not sure I'd be good. I don't see myself slowing down when needed and all that jazz. That's not me. You're a lot more patient than I am... Besides, where would we put a third one?" She laughed away her question and bit her lips.
"The space isn't an issue. We can easily rearrange the first floor, or even move to a bigger house. There are quite a few on the market in the neighborhood and we can afford it. I am talking about your desires, Jane. That's what I am interested in right now. Not the rest."
The brunette took a deep breah and turned on a side to rest her hand on Maura's stomach. It was tense – too much from what she had read in the book – but a multiple pregnancy often led to this.
Contractions as well. So far the medical examiner hadn't had any but they would appear soon – too soon – as a sign they needed to slow down now.
"I have no idea... I love babies, and children. But I don't know if I would enjoy carrying one myself... It must be weird when he or she moves. Kind of spooky."
"You get used to it." Cupping her wife's face in her hands, Maura bent over and planted a soft kiss on her lips.
Perfect morning. A bright light pierced through the windows – the sun made the snow shine on the trees – and everything was so calm. So intimate. A year earlier, they had been on a crime scene under an icy rain; trying to collect information in a not so welcoming district. The contrast with now was sharp.
The sentiment of loneliness that had inhabited Maura for so many years had completely disappeared. Now she belonged with someone, clearly enough and not just in her secret dreams or through a frustrating yet so sweet friendship. They were married and on the verge of becoming parents.
It was a whole different life.
"Where are my presents?"
The question made Jane laugh. "In the closet, with all the other ones since we aren't supposed to put the whole thing by the tree before tomorrow evening. But if you insist... Here's one for you." She turned on her right and began to rummage around the mess by her side of the bed.
Maura's smile grew wider as the brunette held out to her a rectangular object. A book? With the same – and rather obvious – excitement as the one of a child of three, she grabbed the present and unwrapped it before looking up at Jane; confused. "Swedish for Dummies?"
Shrug. Giggles. Jane took a sip of her orange juice and winked at her wife. "If only to be able to get the correct pronounciation of all the Swedish names in the Ikea catalogue. The nursery is supposed to be up and running by February so it's time for us to get familiar with the Ikea vocabulary!"
…
"Merry Christmas, Rizzoli."
The file landed loudly on her desk, making her jump of surprise. For long seconds she stared at it with the hope that it would disappear by itself, as if it had only been an illusion so far. In vain. She made a face and opened it.
"A cold case? Really?"
Perhaps she should have called in sick. Her morning in bed with Maura had been sweet – their very own Christmas celebration before the frenzy of the family holiday – but the afternoon at the BPD was turning into quite a harsh call back to reality.
Cavanaugh nodded. "Dr. Isles agreed on checking a few facts for us although she needs the advices of an anthropologist first. I have just spent the last hour talking to her."
Intrigued, Jane raised an eyebrow at her boss – nodded – and settled better on her seat to start reading the file. "Why is it coming back to the surface now?"
"Upon the senator's request."
A mere gaze between her and Cavanaugh resulted enough. At least it would get her busy for the rest of the afternoon. She hated these long – boring – days where she had nothing to do but paperwork. If not on a crime scene, digging in unsolved cases could actually turn out to be interesting. Although stressing if the request came from so high in the hierarchy.
Korsak's laugh took her out of her concentration a few minutes later – unless a whole hour had passed by – and as she looked up and saw Frost come in, she joined her older colleague and choked on her coffee.
"You're embracing a steward career?"
The young detective blushed, looked down. He hung the outfit on the shelf by his desk and sat back on his seat. "These are the new uniforms so I wouldn't laugh if I were you. Especially you, Jane... Women have to wear skirts."
The brunette stopped laughing right away as panic settled all over her face. Skirts? Who had taken such stupid decision? Why hadn't she been told about it? And since when did they have to wear new uniforms?
Who had decided to humiliate them even more during official ceremonies? Working at the BPD wasn't the fashion week.
"What?" Strangled voice. High-pitch tone. Complete betrayal of her sudden anxiety.
"Yeah. Merry Christmas, flight attendant Rizzoli. You can go pick up yours at 4pm." Before her absence of reaction, Frost smirked – rested his chin on his hands – and raised an amused eyebrow. "Looks like someone forgot to check her emails... We got the news two weeks ago."
"No way!" Feverishly enough, Jane sat back up and went on her professional mailbox. If this was the very last joke of the year, it was quite a bad one. "I'm not working for Pan Am!" She opened the file and gasped in horror. How come she had missed that?
"And we are all supposed to wear them for the Christmas dinner held on Monday. Enjoy..."
Frost's statement made her swallow hard. She would never wear that. Never ever. "Nope, not me. There is like... No way... Nope. I prefer the steward outfit. Gosh I can't believe I'm going to regret the old one that made me look like a guy. Ugh..." Fists clenched, she squinted her eyes at her cell phone. Her mother was calling, probably to discuss the so-called importance of the turkey sauce. "I hate Christmas!"