She's not jealous. The tiny ball of pressure in her gut is entirely normal when there's a sketchy delivery man hitting on her best friend. It's entirely acceptable to be concerned on her behalf and want to chase him away, run a full background check, and lock herself and Maura in her room until she knows for certain that nothing will happen between them.
It's also entirely plausible that Jane would rather it was her who got to go to dinner with the doctor tonight before curling up on her couch together to watch a movie and the sports highlights, for completely platonic reasons, of course.
She knows she's glaring unabashedly at the two flirting in front of her, but she just can't seem to stop. The mental image of herself striding forward confidently and telling the guy in no uncertain terms to get lost because Maura already has everything she needs is awfully tempting to bring forth to reality.
Her fists clench at her sides to keep herself still.
"Maura," Jane calls through gritted teeth. The doctor in question pauses in her flirtatious banter to face the detective.
"Yes, Jane?" Her voice is a few notes higher than usual, drifting in a carefree manner. Abruptly it turns serious as she takes in Jane's rigid posture and deadly demeanour. "Jane? What's wrong?" She politely disengages herself from the delivery guy and closes the door before turning her complete attention toward the brunette.
"Something's wrong with me, Maura," Jane admits, shoulders sagging in relief at the closed door.
"Do you need a doctor? Where are you injured? Why didn't-"
"No, Maur," Jane laughs shakily. "Nothing like that. My heart's just not listening to my mind very well right now and it's messing me up."
Maura's head tilts to the side as she studies her friend. "You know, hearts can't actually hear anything. That's what a person's ears-"
"Maura," Jane interrupts what she is sure would be a very informative, very adorable rant on literalism.
"Right," Maura agrees. "I'm sure you meant it in the figurative form."
"Maura," Jane says again, each repetition serving to calm her more.
"Yes?" The word is endearing and magnetic, drawing Jane closer to the doctor until they are mere millimetres apart.
They each hold their breath, both anticipating the conclusion neither could escape.
It is Jane's mouth which crashes against Maura's, taking the chance for them both, but it's Maura's hands which cup Jane's cheek and grab hold of Jane's lapel, bringing the two of them in tighter. Jane's hand finds its way to the back of Maura's neck and plays with the fine hairs there as she pulls lightly to increase the pressure.
Their blood is on fire, pure flames racing through their veins. Breathing is sporadic at best, air stolen during brief absences of plump lips.
When they pull away, they don't stray too far. Maura has a small, winning smile upon her face, whereas Jane's grin is a full-on, proud smirk.
"No more sketchy delivery men, Maur, okay? And no coffee baristas, like last week. Or construction workers as in the week before that," Jane asks.
Maura actually pouts. "But I still have three more professions on my list!" Maura proclaims, then blushes furiously.
"List?" Jane repeats, frozen in place. Maura nods.
"I was conducting an experiment on which male in which profession would best bring out envious feelings within a certain homicide detective."
Jane can only think of one thing she wants to know right now. "Why?"
Maura studies her for a moment, thinking, before she replies, "Jealous Jane Rizzoli is my favourite Jane Rizzoli."