between your ribs

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Chapter Thirteen:

November 26th, 2015.

She wakes to the sound of voices.

It's weird. Even when her mother lived with her she had simply woken to the sound of her alarm beeping annoyingly in her ear. But now – now, her eyes peel open and morning filters in through the curtains softly. She sits upright, and on the other side of the door, she hears muffled voices. Calm. Maura.

Pushing her grogginess aside, Jane leaves the luxury of the bedsheets and heads towards the kitchen. It's there that she finds her mother and Maura sitting at the kitchen island, coffee cups sitting between them. Steam is still rising off of them.

And Maura. Maura in a nightgown and a robe – silk that ripples gently when she turns to look at Jane. It settles mid-thigh, revealing a small and fading scar that curls above her knee. Still, though, Maura is smiling. Hair dishevelled. She is soft. She is smiling.

"Jane," she greets her quietly. "There's some instant coffee in the cupboard, if you'd like me to make you some."

"I can get it," she tells Maura, resisting the urge to let her hand drift across the small of her back as she passes her.

It feels… remarkably normal. Almost as if no time has passed. Her mother rambles on about her work hours and a new class she's thinking about taking in her spare time. Maura looks at her out of the corner of her eye and blushes when she's caught. This is how it used to be. So Jane stands in front of the coffee machine, lets her hair down from her ponytail and uses it to blanket the grin that she can't shake from her lips. The mug is warm when she cups it in her hands.

"How did you sleep?" Maura asks when Angela finishes speaking, and Jane drifts forward, stands beside her.

"Surprisingly well. Eventually."

"I really wish you hadn't made yourself stay up so late," Maura tells her. "You're already sleep deprived."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. I've noticed that your reactions are particularly slow, even given your caffeine intake, which I imagine is higher than it used to me. Not to mention the bags under your eyes – "

"Gee, thanks."

"Am I not allowed to worry about the health of my best friend?"

Maura takes a sip from her mug after she says this. Jane can feel her ma's eyes on her, so she quells her smile, letting her hand drift across the small of Maura's back when she passes her. It seems to startle her a little and she chokes on the sip she's taking.

But there is nothing haunted in her eyes when Jane looks back over at her.

"I guess I'll let the comment slide," Jane says. Maura sets her mug down and smiles.

Angela finally leaves them alone an hour later. She takes some leftover lasagne out to Korsak and Frankie before heading back to the guest house to shower and change. Phillips and her team are due to arrive sometime in the evening, and that information seems to calm her a little.

While she leaves, Maura tells Jane she's going to take a shower. She watches her retreating form, waiting for the sound of the bathroom door closing, before setting to work.

Maura's house isn't right. For Jane – living among a mess and clutter is just how it is. She doesn't care about whatever the hell kind of bacteria are living on her kitchen counter, since they haven't killed her so far. But Maura? This isn't right. Things askew; clutter everywhere; crumbs all over the counters. This isn't Maura's house, like this.

Jane grabs the vacuum and starts in the kitchen. Even if she can only manage to do a quick clean of the kitchen and the front room, that will help, right? It will help Maura fell more, well… Maura. She's sure. So she vacuums as quickly as she can, still doing a good job, before rectifying the mess. Throws out magazines Maura has begun hoarding and places medical journals she's left out half read back in her study, following her organisational system of books. Grabs a cloth and some polish and starts cleaning the dust that has gathered through the two rooms. It's a messy job, and she's certain she misses things that Maura never would have before, but when she places the rug back where it used to be things feel like they're a little more in place.

Maura emerges with hair perfectly blowdried and outfit perfectly matching while she's still wiping down the kitchen counters. Her eyes widen.

"Jane?"

A few curls escape from Jane's ponytail and she pulls it all free from the hair tie, shaking away what falls in her face. Maura watches with her mouth beginning to fall open.

"I thought that the place could use with a little brightening up."

"You – " Maura stops, still absorbing the difference. "I didn't even think you knew how to use a vacuum."

Jane smiles, propping her hip against the counter. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This is a one time deal."

Maura swallows, frowning as she looks down at her feet. Jane feels her own smile slipping off of her face as she abandons the cloth and looks away, clearing her throat.

"Anyway, Phillips and her team will be here soon. Couldn't let you host them like – "

"Jane."

After taking a steadying breath, she feels Maura's hand on her elbow. She turns back slowly, finding Maura right in front of her. Looking up at her softly, as if Jane has just handed her all of the stars in the universe.

Oh, God. How much she wants to kiss her can only be quantified by the beats of her heart.

"You didn't need to do all of this," Maura says. Still, she reaches down, tangles her hand with Jane's and squeezes.

"Course I did."

Maura smiles.

Jane smiles back.

Existing in silence with Maura is a blessing.

There are still so many elements of their old life together there. She sits on Maura's couch with a beer complaining about god knows what documentary she is forcing her to watch while they wait for Angela to return for dinner, sharing a blanket. Just like it used to be. Maura only rolls her eyes, not paying the slightest bit of attention to Jane's critiquing of the show.

On screen, a crab scuttles against the sea floor.

Jane shivers. "All this ocean crap makes me cold."

Maura rolls her eyes. "It's not crap, Jane. But I'll go turn the thermostat up."

As Maura lifts, one side of her blazer slips from her thin shoulders, the straps of her vest top doing nothing to cover the size of the scar that stretched across her left shoulder blade. Jane is on her feet before she can blink, Maura already hastily pulling the blazer back in its place. She flinches away when Jane's hands reach for her, turning her eyes to the ground.

"Please, don't."

"Please," Jane murmurs. She doesn't know what she's asking for. "Maura, I – "

"I don't want you to see."

"You think we don't all carry our own scars?" Jane snaps, but softens when Maura takes a frightened step away. "Maura, I have scars. My hands. My stomach. You know that. You've seen them. But you want to know the worst ones? They're the ones left inside my head. Every time I leave you I worry that I'll never see you again. And I live with that every day, Maura. Every time."

Maura looks up at her curiously, using her fist to hold her blazer together. "You do?"

Jane half-laughs, raking her hand through her unruly hair. She turns back to the couch, setting herself back down and resting her elbows on her knees as she looks down at her feet and confesses things she thought would remain hers only.

"The day you disappeared, Maura, the moment I realised – God, I don't even know how to describe it. And then I spent every waking moment looking for you, searching for some clue I was missing. You were such a… a big part of my life, you know that?"

She looks up at Maura, who takes a small step towards her. "I know the feeling."

"Yeah, well… Maura, I really thought I'd never see you again. I didn't know how to live with that. I don't ever want to learn how to live with that."

Maura moves to sit beside her. Jane looks up, muscles still all wound tight from confessing, but Maura is so close, right there, all soft and smelling like vanilla and elderflowers and smiling through tears. She turns so that her back is to Jane, letting the blazer slip off of her shoulders and tugging the strap of her t-shirt aside so that the burn scar is revealed completely. Jane reaches out hesitantly, letting the tips of her fingers brush against it. Maura flinches a little, but when Jane pauses, she simply looks over her shoulder at her to give her an encouraging smile.

The scar is almost the size of Jane's palm. It's a light pink, almost settled, but she can imagine the way it used to be. Red raw and painful and ugly.

"Second degree burn. Melissa gave me this two days before I was found," Maura says quietly, still watching Jane over her shoulder. "These kind of burns are supposed to take three weeks to heal, but I didn't have anything to treat it with at the time. I suppose it could've been worse. I was open to infection. But, thankfully, I didn't contract anything."

Jane lets her hands fall and Maura pulls her blazer back on, turning to face her.

"C'mere," Jane murmurs.

Maura scoots closer, until Jane can wrap her arms around her completely, pulling her close. She resists for a moment, until she familiarises herself with these arms that have held her so many times before. Her arms wrap around Jane's waist, cupping her shoulder blades as she rests her cheek on her shoulder. The whisper of her breath against Jane's neck makes her suck in a sudden breath.

"You're so strong, Maura. More than anyone gives you credit for," Jane whispers, turning her head just slightly to press a light kiss to her forehead. "I hope you know that."

Maura says nothing, just smiles and holds her tighter.

Her ma cooks them dinner. Maura hovers nearby, desperate to help her, the gracious hostess as always. Jane settles on the couch, stretching her legs out, pretending to watch the game on TV. Out of the corner of her eye, though, she watches the way Maura's hair falls against her cheek, the way she smiles when Angela finally agrees to let her prepare the salad. Things are going to be okay, she thinks. It has taken her a long time to reach this place, where things feel peaceful, where it no longer feels like Maura is going to be snatched from her the moment she looks away.

No. Instead she only looks at her and feels love bubble over in her chest. It's taken her a long time to come to terms with that too. Dismissed it as nothing but her accepting her as part of her family, as one of her constants, someone who would drop everything to help her. But her eyes are drawn to the soft skin pulled over Maura's collarbones, the shape of her eyes as she allows herself to laugh. She is in love with Maura Isles, her best friend. It is the best feeling she has ever known.

"Jane!" Angela sighs, setting her hands on her hips. "Stop being so lazy and set the table."

"I'm just trying to watch the game, Ma," she protests weakly, glancing at Maura and winking, who smiles wryly before focusing on chopping tomatoes.

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli – "

"Alright, alright," she groans, lifting from the couch and bowing mockingly. "I'm just going to the bathroom first – and then I promise to return and be the perfect slave."

Her ma grabs the dish towel and throws it at her head. Jane ducks, laughing, hearing Maura laughing too.

But as soon as she heads down the corridor to the bathroom, she feels an arm rope around her waist, restraining her as the intruder presses the muzzle of a gun against her temple.

"You're going to do exactly as I tell you, detective."

TBC