Jane swung her legs off the edge of the exam table. Dr. Filer seemed to be taking longer than usual today. "I changed my mind."
Maura's head titled in question.
"It doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl. As long as the baby is a Red Sox fan."
Maura chuckled. "You can indoctrinate the baby early. We'll have to get a Red Sox onesie."
"And a tiny catcher's mitt." Jane held her thumb and forefinger three inches apart. Maura tried to cover her laughter with her hands, but Jane saw it and was encouraged to continue. "Its first words will be, 'Yankees suck,' and we'll put chewing tobacco on its teething ring." Maura gasped in mock horror. "Nah, just kidding. We'll give the kid bubble gum, and teach it to spit like a ball player."
"That sounds like a good compromise." Still smiling, Maura leaned back in her chair and nibbled her thumb.
"What do you want?" Jane asked. "Besides a love for shopping, I mean."
Maura stared off into space for a moment, as if she'd never thought about it. If she were honest, she'd tried not to think about the baby's biological origins and their genetic implications. Maura sighed and looked seriously at Jane. "I hope it's just like you. Tall and fiery. Fun. Big personality. Unruly hair. Smart and loving." Maura paused, a smile tickling her lips. "A wonderful hugger."
"Oh!" Jane scoffed, "I am not!"
"You are, and I'm lucky enough to know that."
"Fine," Jane was trying not to smile, "but don't tell anyone. You'll ruin my rep."
There was a short silence, then Maura countered, "What about you? Besides being a Red Sox fan."
"Hmm. Smart. Good hugger, yeah." Jane looked at her hands, and found herself unconsciously massaging the scars on her palms. Jane imagined a pint-sized version of herself, unruly hair and all, but with a fresh start. No mistakes and no tragedies. "I don't want her to be weak. Like, submissive? But not so strong that she can't ask for help, ya know?" Asking for Maura's help three months ago was, in Jane's estimation, the best thing she had ever done. "I want her to know who she is and what's important to her. Confidence, I guess. To not care what other people think, and to do what makes her happy." Jane looked up at Maura and smiled, "Like you."
Maura looked all sentimental, so Jane reached out her hand and, without actually touching, drew her to standing, then patted the table next to where she sat. Maura leaned up against the table, but looked down at her folded hands instead of at Jane, trying not to hope for too much.
Jane leaned her head toward Maura and bit her lip before speaking softly, her breath warm on Maura's neck, "I know it's not, ya know, biologically possible... or whatever..." she sighed, "but I hope the baby is just like you." Jane studied the freckles on Maura's chest. "Your eyes. Your hair." Jane's finger brushed the back of Maura's hands, folded in her lap. "Your touch. You're gentle and sweet. You're a good hugger, too." Maura finally cracked a smile, a dimple emerging. "And your smile."
Maura looked sideways at Jane, searching her face for something she couldn't name. A sign, a signal, some sort of indication created by the minute interactions among the 43 muscles in her face. That Jane's words were heartfelt and not sarcastic. That there was something left unsaid. But before she could find it, Jane looked down at her own hands. Was that embarrassment?
Maura swallowed before saying, "Meaney and Szyf showed in 2004 that rat pups that were well-nurtured by their mother were less susceptible to stress later in life." Jane looked up again, this time with surprised confusion. "It's an epigenetic effect on behavior..." Jane's chin dropped a little. "Evidence for environmental factors playing a role in gene expression..."
"Maura."
Maura shrugged. "It could happen."
Jane's shoulders shook and her eyes closed with laughter. "You really can't help it, can you?"
"What?" Maura didn't know whether to be proud or hurt.
"You." Jane put her arm around Maura, pulling her even closer, so her head rested on Jane's shoulder. "You're adorable."
It was neither proud nor hurt Maura decided on; it was bliss.
Maura's perfume wafted up to Jane's nose and like a Pavlovian response, she relaxed. If only they could always be this close.
Doctor Filer finally appeared and asked a few routine questions. She was pleased to find out that no more dreams had caused problems between the women. Jane was still having vivid dreams (like one where they were shopping and Jane was carrying Bass around with them the whole time), but they didn't bother her as much. And if they did wake her, she would take her medicine in the form of an arm around the sleeping form beside her.
No, it wasn't the dreams that bothered Jane, it was the daydreams. Jane's daydreams had become clearer since that day she came home to Maura broken, needing to be put back together. Jane's mind kept wandering, and she'd notice her arms were wrapped around herself, trying to recreate the feel of Maura's hands on her waist, rubbing those tiny circles of cream into her skin.
She hadn't dared think of Maura in that way before, but now that she had, it was hard not to. It was hard not to notice when there was a gap between the buttons of Maura's blouse. Or how the color of her eyes seemed to change every day. Or that the dip between Maura's ribs and hip was the perfect place to feel her breathing while she slept.
Jane didn't want to reduce her best friend to her physical beauty, but it was hard to deny the woman was a goddess. If Jane was going to think about any woman that way, it made sense that it would be her. So Jane allowed the thoughts. There wasn't much she could do to stop them, anyway. She had basically accepted that her hormones had taken over her body; it only made sense that they would hijack her mind as well. It was just something she'd have to learn to deal with for the duration, and try not to do anything that would offend Maura in the meantime. Then once the baby was born, Jane could go back to being herself again.
As sure as Jane was that her pregnancy was causing these thoughts, it would be nice to get some confirmation from Dr. Filer. But she desperately didn't want to arouse suspicion from the other doctor in the room. Jane tried to phrase her question just vaguely enough to get the assurance she needed. "I was wondering, though... Is it normal to be thinking about new things? Like, it's hard to focus sometimes. Because I keep thinking. About things I don't usually think about. I notice things I didn't really notice before. Can hormones make you do that?"
"Sure," Dr. Filer answered, nodding. "Many pregnant women find that they notice babies or other pregnant women much more, and they think a lot about what the baby will be like, or how their lives will change. That's not the hormones, it's just a natural reaction to all the changes that are occurring."
"Yeah, that makes sense." Jane didn't look satisfied with this answer. "But what if I'm distracted about other things? Things that don't have anything to do with the baby?"
Maura's head tilted and her eyes studied Jane's posture. This was the first she'd heard of any distraction and she was curious to find out what it was and why Jane had been hiding it from her.
Dr. Filer paused a moment, trying to tease out what Jane was implying. "Do these thoughts keep you from going about your daily routine?"
"Not really, they just... slow me down a little?"
Maura's brow knit, trying to think if she had noticed this. Indeed, just that morning Jane had taken unreasonably long to answer whether she wanted oatmeal or pancakes for breakfast. Maura didn't know it, but the pause was because she had stood on tiptoe to reach something in a high cupboard, and her nightgown had crept up, exposing a little more leg than Jane was used to seeing. Maura had assumed Jane was sluggish from just waking up.
Dr. Filer continued, "Do you ever feel unmotivated, like it's hard to go to work or get out of bed?"
Only when it means leaving Maura. Jane swallowed. "Maybe." Jane wondered where this line of questioning was going. She already didn't like the look Maura was giving her, and started to think maybe she shouldn't have said anything in the first place. She wondered if there was any way to back track, but the doctor just kept on pressing.
"Do you have anxiety that's separate from the baby? Perhaps about work or home life, or about anything, even if you can't quite pinpoint what it is?"
About objectifying my best friend? "Yeah, I guess."
Now Maura was really worried. If Jane was anxious about something—at home or at work—Maura wanted to know about it so she could help. Her hand went to fiddle nervously with her necklace.
"Have you had thoughts about death or suicide?"
"I'm a homicide detective. Thoughts about death aren't anything new. Suicide, though—wait, are you asking if I'm depressed?" The doctor's eyes widened and her head tilted, obviously confirming Jane's suspicion. "I'm not depressed, I promise." Jane held up her hands defensively. "I'm not contemplating suicide, I'm not sad, I'm not depressed. I'm just..." thinking way too much about my best friend. "Confused."
"Have you tried talking to anyone about it? Sometimes just saying what you're thinking out loud can help you sort through your thoughts and make sense of them." Jane looked at the doctor like she had just suggested Jane try petting a hungry lion. "A family member," the doctor looked at Maura, who nodded enthusiastically that she would be receptive to such a discussion, "or a close friend..." Jane's eyes grew wide. Perhaps the doctor wanted Jane to put her head right in the lion's mouth? "Or if you're uncomfortable with that I could refer you to a thera—"
"No," Jane interrupted, "That's ok, it's really not a big deal. I'm sure it's nothing." Jane was talking fast now, belying her discomfort. "I'm sure it'll go away. I mean, I'll figure it out." Maura didn't look convinced. "Don't worry, it's not even important."
Dr. Filer eyed Jane dubiously, but said, "That's fine, but if you change your mind you can always call my office for a referral or to talk directly to me." Jane nodded, hoping to put the topic behind her.
Though Maura was still studying Jane, Dr. Filer moved on to other business. She confirmed that the amniocentesis results were clear and started preparing for the ultrasound. Jane kept glancing at Maura, wondering if her genius brain was figuring out what Jane was trying to hide. Maura was staring at her hands, folded in her lap, but she looked troubled more than contemplative.
Maura wasn't one to jump to conclusions easily. It was bad science and she knew, logically, that when conclusions were not supported by evidence, they were often incorrect. But Maura wasn't thinking logically at that moment. For some reason, when it came to Jane and the baby, Maura's emotions interfered with her ability to approach the situation rationally. Still, she tried to mentally talk herself down and return to her senses.
She had heard that Jane had been losing focus, and it wasn't because of the baby and it wasn't because of work. The more Maura considered it, the more she had noticed Jane's attention flagging. More than once, Maura had to dip her head to catch Jane's gaze while they were in the middle of a conversation. And Jane had admitted it was more than just losing focus, it was anxiety, too.
There was only one thing Maura could think of that could be troubling Jane that wasn't work, and wasn't the baby, that she couldn't talk to Maura about: Casey. Jane hadn't told Maura much about her relationship with Casey or why it ended, just that it did and she didn't want to be with him anymore. Maybe she had changed her mind. Maybe she wanted the baby to have a father instead of two mothers, maybe she wasn't happy living with Maura. Maybe she wasn't happy being with Maura.
Maura's mind raced, trying to remember if Jane had said anything about him that would suggest this was the case. For all she could recall, there had been no mention of him at all in the past month. Not even just now when they were talking about what features they wanted the baby to have. Had Maura missed something? Could she have blocked it out, subconsciously trying to ignore anything that might pierce the bubble of bliss she was living in?
Maura closed her eyes tightly, half in an effort to make her brain behave rationally, half so that she could hide the tears forming. She put her fingers and thumb to her eyebrows, anticipating a headache.
"Maur?" Jane's voice snapped her out of her head. "Don't you want to see the baby?" Her tone was gentle, and when Maura opened her eyes, she saw that Jane's head was tilted with concern. Jane's hand rested on the exam table beside her, but her fingers flexed and wiggled in the same way that her toes did when she wanted a foot massage. For the second time in less than an hour, Jane pulled Maura to her feet without even touching her. Maura took the hand Jane held out for her.
Jane's thumb rubbed against Maura's when she said softly, trying to keep their conversation at least a little bit private from Dr. Filer, "It's nothing, Maura, please, don't worry about it."
Maura looked her over, trying to believe Jane's words and quiet her own mind. "I can't help but worry." She wasn't asking Jane to divulge everything, just enough to reassure her that her distress was unfounded. "You're my family."
Jane squeezed Maura's hand and took a big breath. "I keep thinking..." She looked down at their clasped hands for strength, then finally made eye contact with Maura. "About you." She shrugged. "I miss you when you're not there, ok?" Maura's grip relaxed some and Jane repeated, "I keep thinking about you."
Maura took a shuddering breath of relief. "It's me?" Her free hand went to her chest, trying to quiet the pounding of her heart.
"Yeah." Jane was embarrassed again, even though Dr. Filer was scrutinizing the monitor, and didn't appear to be listening to their conversation. "See? It's no big deal. Let's not make a thing about it, ok?"
"That's all?" Maura's head shook in disbelief. "Not... anybody else?"
"Well, sometimes I think about the baby, too."
Maura finally smiled and collected her wits. "Well, there's no reason you should miss me, Jane. You should come visit my office more often during the day, or if you can't, then call me and I will come find you. It doesn't have to be a 'thing,' if you'd just—"
"Ok, Maura," Jane interrupted, relieved to see Maura back to herself. "Look!" She pointed at the monitor as Dr. Filer turned it for them to see. "Baby!"
Distraction achieved. It was fuzzy and hard to see, but it was beautiful. One hand was up near its mouth, doing that thing that Maura did when she was thinking about something important. The other lay across its torso. They could see its heartbeat. The doctor shifted the probe around so they could see the baby's legs, curled up with ten perfect toes.
They watched the doctor spend a long time taking measurements, then she finally said, "So, you want to know?" Jane and Maura both nodded enthusiastically. "It's a girl."
A/N: You may be aware that Elephants won a Rizzles Fan Award for best comedy, and was runner-up for best fluff. I am at once proud and humbled.
This story wouldn't be nearly as fun to read or write if it weren't for the constant cheering of living-on-borrowed-crime. Seriously, she watches me write. It's kind of creepy, but comforting at the same time. J9tigger is my pregnancy guru, who is always there with a new fun idea to write about. And jadetigerlily serves as my 'fresh eyes' before posting, in case anything gets overlooked.
Thank you so much to everyone who voted for Elephants, everyone who has reviewed or commented, and everyone who has taken the time to read even a little bit of it. Your support means the world, and it encourages me to write more!
I had some personal things to deal with the last couple of weeks, but things should be getting back to normal. I may not be able to update as often as I was at the beginning, but I'll do my best. Your fluffy ideas inspire me, so don't hold back!