Chapter 5: Ducklings
Jane's POV
(Trigger warning for talk about Hoyt – nothing too explicit, though)
Maura's protests do not come as a surprise to you. At first, she even outright refuses to consider your offer for even a minute. She just huffs when you assure her that you really mean it, asking you to drop it in an uncharacteristically chilly voice.
When you don't withdraw the offer, she seems positively bewildered. "But why would you even be willing to do something like that?", she asks you, panting, on one of your morning runs. There's a charity run upcoming, and you both decided to give it a go, sweating for a good cause together.
You slow down a little so she can keep up with you more easily. A long time ago, Maura was the one to talk you into regular morning exercise, but you've started to really enjoy running and are actually quite fast and proficient by now.
"Why wouldn't I?", you reply, trying to appear less self-conscious as you feel deep inside. "You're my best friend. I wanna do everything in my power to help you. My uterus works just fine, I guess."
She ponders your answer in her mind for a few minutes of silent jogging. "Pregnancies can get pretty tough, though", she finally says, Google-mouth mode threatening to take over.
"I'm sure I could manage", you retort, "I mean, my Ma popped out three kids, and look at her now, living life to the fullest and being all perky and chipper!"
Maura chuckles next to you. "Okay, Jane, but seriously, you shouldn't get pregnant for me. Do you even know the most common symptoms in pregnant women?"
"Umm, nausea and disgusting cravings?", you guess.
"Yes, morning sickness although the term is not correct as it can occur at any time of day", Maura rattles off, "nausea, fatigue, more frequent need to urinate, back pains, breathlessness, leg cramps, and in some cases, vaginal discharge and especially tender breasts can-"
"Maura!", you yell but try to calm down for the sake of both of you, instantly. "Sorry. But, I mean – I know all that." You slow your pace even further when you realize she's again struggling to keep up with you. "In case you haven't noticed before, I'm a woman as well, and although I haven't experienced pregnancy yet, I think I am somewhat well informed abut the whole process. You know how my mother's been nagging me for years into giving her grandchildren", you remind her, a teasing undertone in your voice.
"Yes, but – there's a reason you never did get pregnant", she states which takes you aback. You turn around somewhat to face her. "Oh, indeed? I'd love to hear more about that", you say, not angry, just confused because you can't remember ever openly discussing this topic with her. Sometimes, it just doesn't occur to you to confide in anyone, even if it's your very best friend.
She bends down to re-tie her new running shoes. She's still getting used to them. However, she buys new running shoes every couple of months so her complaints about blisters and other ailments usually fail to impress you. Why can't she choose a decent pair and stick to them for a few years, as you do?
You start some stretching exercises and wait for her reply.
"Well – I thought you didn't want children. You always seemed to not care a lot about babies", she points out.
"Okay, fair point", you reply, "but I'm just not the gushing type of gal, right? I mean, I'm Jane Rizzoli, it's just not my style. Doesn't mean I don't like kids, though."
"I didn't say that", she clarifies and stands up, copying your current exercise eagerly, ever the perfect student. "I just thought you'd decided against them for a reason."
You smirk. "Well, I didn't. It's just that I never managed to find a suitable life partner and I kinda thought, well, no kids for me, then." You give her a faint smile to indicate that you are not criticizing her choices. "When you told me about having a baby on your own, I found it incredibly brave and inspiring. I just – well, I don't think I would'a been able to pull off something this unconventional."
"Did you want kids?", she asks, softly, like she's scared your words could physically hurt you.
You lower your outstretched arms, seriously pondering her question. "Maybe. I was never hellbent on it. I just figured that I'd go with the flow, and here I am, close to 40, with no kids, so that's that." You shrug, unsure yourself of what to think. "I mean, I never saw myself as the maternal type, I'm nothin' like my mom. You, though", you try to change course and make this about her again, "you'd be a wonderful mother. That's why I'm offering. I mean, also because you're one of my favorite people", you nervously add, "but there's more to it. I think out of everyone I know, you'd be the most wonderful mom and you simply should have the opportunity to raise a child."
She huffs, touched yet also indignant. "I couldn't possibly put you through the strain of pregnancy, though, Jane! It's not like you changing a tire for me or fixing my bathroom sink. This could become a life-or-death-situation!", she insists fervently.
You raise an incredulous eyebrow at her. "We don't live in the Middle Ages anymore, Maur", you remind her, not particularly impressed although you do feel slightly anxious at her last comment.
"Yes, but maternal mortality rates in the U.S are higher than in other first-world countries", she shoots back, "some of the major reasons for pregnancy-related deaths being mental health problems, heart conditions or hemorrhage – excessive bleeding", she explains at your questioning gaze.
"Okay, fine", you start to run again, although at a very leisurely pace because you do have to have this conversation with her, "I get it. Pregnancy is not risk-free. Nothing in life is, Maur. I mean, I'm a Homicide Detective so I face danger every day on the job", you gently remind her.
"Yes I am aware, Jane, but that's different!", she protests. "You chose your career path voluntarily."
A snicker escapes you. "Well, it's not like you're forcing me into anything. I'd choose to carry for you. My decision", you give a half-shrug and generously dodge a young woman pushing a massive stroller with twins. You don't miss the longing, rueful expression passing Maura's face at the sight when you turn back to check whether she's okay.
"Maybe you're just trying to be a good friend", she says, a little out of breath.
"Of course I'm trying to be a good friend", you reply, "but it's not me self-sacrificing, Maura! I'm an adult. I've thought about this thoroughly", you claim and head towards the pond where you like to stop in order to watch the ducks with their fluffy little ducklings trailing them across the water's glistening surface.
"If anything happened to you-"
"It won't", you cut her off more forcefully than you intended to.
She only starts speaking again when you reach the pond. You lean against a log while she stands, facing you, not the aquatic birds. She looks beautiful even in practical running clothes and her hair back in a ponytail. When the sun falls on it like it now does, her hair has this golden hue, revealing her for the actual angel she is.
"Jane, please – we need to talk this through", she pleads and at your confused expression, she clarifies: "I feel bad even giving this crazy idea a moment's actual thought, but... I can't help it. I'm not saying I want you to do it", she immediately hastens to add when you can't fully stifle the smile that's threatening to curl upwards your lips, "I'm just saying – let's talk."
"Okay." You cross your arms in order not to get cold. Maura's running clothes are high-quality, with a warming function, but you just wear a plain tank top and a pair of pants that you've owned for forever. You recently even discovered a whole in the fabric. "Talk", you tell her, encouragingly. "I mean, I think I already have quite a good idea of what's going on in that brilliant brain of yours, but – don't hold back."
She sighs and bites her lip. Her lips are sensuous, inviting, and you totally get why so many guys would want to kiss her. You're not blind, you know she's a walking bombshell.
"So", she starts, "this would put a huge imbalance on our relationship. I mean, how could I ever thank you for doing something like that? It would be impossible", she stresses, and the genuine concern is etched onto her face very plainly.
You sigh. "You wouldn't owe me, Maura. I don't need your – endless thank yous or fancy dinner invitations and I wouldn't dream of considering this some kind of warped business transaction because you've already done more for me than you could ever imagine."
You don't enjoy talking about the next part, but you have to say it, you have to get it out. "You were there for me when I was at my lowest. After Hoyt, I – I was in a dark place mentally. If it hadn't been for you, I don't know... you kinda gave me purpose", you confess, blushing uncomfortably. You try to get over the embarrassment by stretching out your hands, palms upward, so Maura can see the scars on them, scars from where a serial killer and rapist called Charles Hoyt – also known as "The Surgeon" – stabbed your hands with scalpels to pin you down.
You've once read a newspaper article about you that said you were wearing your scars with pride; in reality, this couldn't be any further from the truth. While you know that being abducted and almost tortured by a murderous madman is nothing to be ashamed of, you've never managed to completely let go of the humiliation surrounding your encounters with Hoyt. Humiliation because he actually managed to hurt you; because he left his marks on your body. You know it could have been much, much worse but the scars are forever reminding you of those moments when you were at your most vulnerable, when you could have become just another victim.
"You're still the only person I never get self-conscious with about my scars", you admit, timidly ducking your head.
"Oh, Jane", she says after a moment, grasping your hands in hers like it is the most intimate possible gesture. When you think about it, it probably is, for you. "I never realized-", she starts and you interrupt, kinda knowing exactly what she's going to say. "You never realized what you mean to me? How much you helped me back then? Jeez, Maura, I should have told you a long time ago. Expressing my feelings is just – scary", you make another confession.
"Why's that?", she asks but you can only raise your shoulders. "I truly have no idea. I've always been that way. I like to keep stuff to myself – mostly, that is. But I'm your friend and I'm honestly sorry I didn't try harder to put my trust in you."
"Oh, I know you trust me", she replies with a somewhat shy smile. "I might be the dumbest genius on the planet, but I'm not utterly hopeless", she says, jokingly, and it takes you a few minutes to realize you're still holding hands. It feels nice. You don't want to let go but you do, albeit reluctantly.
You both start to speak at once, but you gesture to her to indicate that you'll let her talk first.
"I don't want anything to jeopardize our friendship, Jane. You mean way too much to me for that. Not even a child would be worth paying that price." She shakes her head adamantly.
"I wouldn't let that happen", you promise.
"Why didn't you simply suggest a surrogate mother?", she inquires and you shrug once more.
"Dunno. I guess I kind of knew you wouldn't want that... some random person carrying your baby, that's not – you wouldn't do that", you simply state with conviction because you are so sure about it.
She eyes you with barely concealed curiosity. "You know me better than I know myself, sometimes."
Another blush threatens to form on your cheeks and you turn your head away slightly, pretending to be enthralled by the ducks being fed by an elderly woman with crutches on the opposite side of the water.
Maura's gaze follows yours. "Oh, no, Jane, she shouldn't do that!", she exclaims, worried. "Stale bread isn't good for them."
You're not about to take away what could be an old lady's only joy so you only sigh. "Can we let it go for once, Maura?"
She'd normally put up a fight, insist on enforcing the rules. She must be too absentminded today because she just slips her arm under yours and agrees, pulling you away from the pond because if she's not stepping in, she won't watch.
R&I-R&I-R&I-R&I-R&I
This time, you go back to her place because she wants to try out a new recipe in her kitchen and yours is equipped much less impressively. Slicing vegetables with the precision of the doctor she is, Maura suddenly asks: "So, hypothetically speaking... how would it all play out?" She doesn't have to specify what she's referring to.
Setting aside the salad bowl you've retrieved from one of her numerous cupboards, you lean against the counter. Her back is turned to you, expertly slicing a carrot.
"Well, I imagine we'd make an appointment at your clinic, get me checked and tested, and, uh – do the artificial insemination", you respond and hope that you've done your homework and don't talk a load of utter garbage that could give her the impression you're not truly ready to take this step. "What's it called", you mutter, "IUI, right?"
"I did IUI – intra-uterine insemination - the first times", Maura gently explains. "I tried IVF the last time. It's more effective."
"I guess my genes will allow me to carry successfully anyway", you joke, referring to your mother who had three kids – you, Frankie, and Tommy.
She carefully tosses some, but not all of the vegetables into a pot on the stove. She's very meticulous about different cooking times and all that.
"Well", she says and you sense that she's trying not to sound condescending because you sometimes hate being corrected, "we'd use my eggs and the donor's sperm, so it would have to be IVF. The insemination would happen outside of your body. The fertilized egg would then be placed in your womb to carry."
"Okay", you say easily.
"Okay?", she echoes and turns around to look at you. Her face is a mask of worry. "It wouldn't bother you to carry a child that is not yours genetically? I mean – that's a bit of a large order."
"Tall order", you automatically reply. "And no, I mean, that's what I actually figured, I'm just not familiar with all the medical terms and procedures yet. But of course it would be your kid. That's the whole point." You are indeed convinced that it's not that big a deal. It's probably also healthy not to carry a child from your eggs and then give it to Maura to raise. That would be awkward.
"What if you get attached?", Maura asks, the food seemingly forgotten. "Pregnancy has a hormonal impact too, Jane. Maybe you won't be able to keep a distance. Would be able, I mean", she hastily covers up her verbal slip-up.
"Well, we're family", you reply and feel that it's true. "It's not like I'd never see the kid or could never spend time with it. I think that would help." The uncertainty in her gaze is obvious. You sigh and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Look, of course I don't know what my hormones would be up to during pregnancy, but I'm not keen on raising a child on my own, okay? Maybe I would get carried away, but I am fairly sure it would only be temporary. I wouldn't actually try to keep your baby from you." Well, at least you hope so. You've heard all kinds of things about pregnant women but this baby wouldn't be yours. You'd only be the gestational carrier.
"What about your job?", Maura instantly proceeds. She's basically interrogating you but you can't be mad at her for only having your best interests at heart.
"What about it?" You shrug. "I guess they'd put me on desk duty or something. And yeah", you beat her to it, "we all know I'm not the biggest fan of doing boring paperwork all day but I would not put the baby's health at risk. Nine months are not that long a time."
Her next question seems to be the one she dreads the most. She's fidgeting, a telltale sign of her anxiety skyrocketing.
"What if you started to hate me for letting you do it?"
"Maura." Your whole face softens. This is the one thing you are 100-per-cent, absolutely sure of. "I wouldn't ever be able to hate you. It's impossible." When she steps into your arms, you pull her to you tightly, and plant a sweet kiss on the crown of her hair without thinking twice.
