They've been dating for more than three months now, but Jane hasn't been able to tell a single soul. And oh, how she's wanted to. She's wanted to shout it from the rooftops, yell at the countless good looking suitors who came calling for her girlfriend, but she made a promise not to say a word.
Jane Rizzoli doesn't break promises. But right now, she's kind of wishing she did because Maura looks absolutely drop dead sexy in her little black dress. More than that, though, are the shameless stares, emanating from the various testosterone-filled cops around the room, which just make Jane want to stalk toward her girl and kiss her so that everyone would know she's off limits.
Is it Neanderthalian? Yes. Is it completely irrational and outrageous? Yes. Does she still want to do it? Hell yes.
She sets her jaw and makes a bee-line for the doctor. Leaning down, she whispers into her ear, "Maur, you'll have to forgive me, but I can no longer adhere to our agreement about secrecy. Consider this your warning, if you're still here in seven seconds, I will end up kissing you." Then she pulls away, with the ball in Maura's court.
Maura doesn't move a muscle.
Jane looks around the room, making severe eye contact with every single hormonal man, before placing her hand on the back of Maura's neck and locking their lips together.
The room goes silent, but then there's the first call of 'about damn time' and soon enough they're being surrounded with hollers, congratulations, and approval.
Jane pulls away and she grins down at Maura. The medical examiner can't help herself, she's blushing something fierce and she's got this great, goofy smile on her lips that Jane put there. Jane. Not some arrogant prick in a suit, or some hotshot with more money than brains. Her.
No other realisation has ever made her happier.