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Chapter Six: How To Contradict Amy

The bare touch of Jane's lips on her shoulder woke her up. Softly, warmly. She smiled and turned around in bed to settle in the brunette's arms.

"Good morning..." Maura's sleepy voice floated around, echoing the grin that was now lighting up her face with a subtle delicacy.

Jane blushed – looked down – then captured the scientist's lips in a deep kiss. At no moment had it been awkward between the two of them once they had crossed the lines of their friendship to give into something stronger; more intimate. As they had come back to Boston, they had found a whole series of brand new references and had taken advantage at the most of their new relationship.

Sliding a leg between the detective's, Maura passed her arms around her lover's neck before playing with her hair. The thin strap of her negligee followed Jane's caress, the satin of the piece of lingerie embracing her skin as it fell down to her thighs. They broke the long – eager – kiss.

Maura laughed lightly.

"What are you doing?"

Rhetorical question, obviously. But the scientist had to ask, if only because they didn't have much time for themselves. Amy was in the guest room – maybe already up – and their schedule for the day was rather dense.

Between two kisses on Maura's shoulder blade, Jane shrugged and let her lips brush every inch of shivering skin until she found back the honey blonde's jaw.

"Proving Amy she's wrong and that we can make love without booking the night two weeks or so in advance..." A smirk played on her lips. "Or the morning, that is."

Now naked, Maura rolled on her stomach and passed on top of Jane. She discarded the shirt rather effectively before plunging back in the exquisite pleasure of her future wife's curves.

"But how do you want to prove it to her if she isn't in the same room as us?"

Jane closed her eyes for a few seconds as her fingers travelled up Maura's hips and the palm of her hand made contact with the blonde's lower back. She ran her tongue over her own lips, swallowed back a moan before the delicate caresses of the scientist.

"Are you trying to tell me that you'd like Amy to take part in this?"

The medical examiner laughed – openly and loudly this time – then let her partner turn her around; Jane's athletic legs pressing her thigh, her breasts brushing her back.

"No, not really... No!"

The brunette captured back Maura's lips for a long kiss before murmuring against her mouth, hands on her lover's thighs.

"That's what I was thinking."

Her hand passed Maura's stomach before disappearing between her legs.

...

Wrapped in one of Maura's extra-large woolen cardigans, Jane stepped into the kitchen a couple of hours later and frowned before the avalanche of flowers that was now covering the kitchen top.

"What is that?"

Mug of coffee in hand, Angela welcomed her daughter with a loud kiss on the cheek and shrugged. She seemed to be in a good mood; relaxed enough in spite of the stressing week.

"The florist delivered them at 7am. You didn't hear the bell? As she was thinking about different – yet rather close – kinds of arrangements after what Maura had told her yesterday, she dropped all these samples for you to choose. Make sure to let her know by 5pm." The matriarch took a sip of her coffee. "Personally, I like number 6."

Her brow furrowed in slight surprise, Jane bent over the one her mother was pointing out and made a face; uncertain. She wasn't much in flower and bouquet mode. Not just yet. She was starving and still had to drink her first sip of coffee.

"Where is Maura?"

Walking to the coffee pot, the detective poured herself a mug and stole a French toast the matriarch had obviously prepared for her. She bit into it enthusiastically and rolled her eyes in pleasure.

"Having a shower. Is Amy still sleeping?" Mug in hand, Jane leaned against the counter and looked at her mother. "Mind you, she must be jet lagged. She insisted on taking us to a gay bar last night when she got to know that we ever really went to the South End."

Angela chuckled yet shook her head.

"As a matter of fact, she has already left the house to buy cigarettes. You know... While you and... Maura were... Err... Waking up."

Jane smiled peacefully. Her behavior towards her very own sexual orientation had changed a lot – if not just completely – since Scotland. Her relation with her mother was less chaotic as well, as if the phone call they had had – Angela in Boston and Jane in Plockton – had soothed years of frustration and the delicate connection they shared.

The detective was not afraid anymore to assume who she was. She didn't live with the weight of a thousand secrets on her shoulders anymore. She had never said it but – deep inside – she knew that she owed all this to Maura and nobody else. If it hadn't been for the honey blonde, Jane would have probably never revealed to her family this part of her life.

Even if it had been welcomed warmly, perfectly fine.

Now she had no issue whatsoever assuming her life and her relationship. Not that she was eager to give away every single detail of her couple - unlike Maura - but she didn't complain anymore either when people mentioned the two of them.

"Oh ma', please! We don't need to know why it took Maura and Jane so long to make it downstairs."

Surprised by the voice, the brunette turned around – a hand on her heart – and stared at Tommy as he walked into the kitchen; box of tools in hand. He motioned with his head at the patio door.

"I repaired the sink in the guesthouse... Hey, are these French toasts? Can I have some too?" As he approached a tentative hand from the plate, the sound of Jane's snap on his arm pushed him to make a step backwards. "Ouch!"

Angela rolled her eyes and separated both her children before the fight took another direction and they messed around with the flowers.

"There is enough for everyone – Tommy included – Jane... It's the least we can do considering he's just spared us the cost of a plumber. Do you know the prices in this city? It's..."

A scream made her stop right in her tracks. Taken aback, the three of them looked at the ceiling as the sound had come from there. Jane frowned and straightened up.

"Maura...?" As much as she had tried to keep composure, her tone of voice betrayed her latent panic and she made a few steps towards the stairs. She hadn't heard anything get broken, not even a loud – deafening – bang. Nothing. "Maura, is everything okay?"

"Jeez, Jane. This is how you behave with your future wife? You should already be upstairs making sure she's fine! Damn I can't believe that – of all people – I'm the one giving you advices like that about women."

The brunette shot a death glare at her brother who instantly made a step backwards. Tommy knew better than to go on her nerves more than what the limits tolerated.

"He is right, Jane. Have you ever heard about chivalry?"

Great. And now her mother joined the conspiracy. Mug of coffee in hand, the detective looked again at the ceiling and waited for a few seconds. The house was dead silent. Too much? Hesitantly and a bit worried, Jane put a foot on the first step – ready to climb – only to see Maura rush downstairs in a silk bathrobe; soaked wet, shampoo still in her hair.

"What's going on? Have you seen a spider or something?" Somewhat reassured to see that her lover was still in one piece, Jane tried to laugh without mocking Maura's terrible attire. She knew as well – just like her brother – how to not push the scientist's buttons. "Why did you yell like a monkey?"

Maura snorted and put a protective hand on top of her chest as she noticed Tommy's presence in the room. She shook her head vehemently.

"I don't suffer from arachnophobia, Jane. And I certainly don't 'yell like a monkey' because monkeys don't yell. They actually..."

Jane raised a hand in the air to stop her. When Maura was in panic, it was impossible to get a clear answer if she weren't put back into the right direction immediatly.

"Then what happened that you... I mean... Look at you."

Maura followed Jane's gaze down to her wet feet that had left prints everywhere on the hardwood floor. She sniffed, shrugged.

"There is no hot water anymore. I was taking a shower when – all of a sudden – the water turned icy. Something is wrong with the water heater."

Oh.

One, two, three. Don't panic, Rizzoli. Nope. Just take a deep breath and prove to the whole world that you were actually paying attention during these yoga classes.

"What?!" Her strangled – unusual high-pitched – voice resounded loud in the house. "You gotta be kidding me... Within two days, your relatives make it here." She turned around – panicked – before locking desperate eyes with Tommy's. "You'll have all the French toasts in the world if you fix this."