A/n: and we start to deal with the Hastings of it all...
Six
I rolled out of bed, my long brown hair a tangled mess, stark naked, trying not to disturb Maura who was still lost in sleep. Detangling from the sheets and her warm embrace, I stumbled through the morning routine, half-conscious. The shower beckoned, and as I stood beneath the warm spray, my mind wandered.
Damn, I thought, toweling off. Had more action last night than I've had in the past few years. My reflection in the bathroom mirror didn't offer any explanations, just a raised eyebrow at my own antics.
Well, I never thought I'd want sex that much. But damn, that itch got scratched like seven times last night. Maura wasn't kidding when she said sex with a woman was thoroughly satisfying. As I brewed coffee in the kitchen, preparing it in my travel mug, I muttered to myself, "It has to be a fluke, right? A trick of hormones, that's it."
Leaving a note on the coffee pot, I made my way out to the car, hoping to beat the inevitable long line at the gate. The morning sun painted the sky as I pondered the unusual turn my night had taken. Was it just a hormonal aberration, or was this the new normal? Only time will tell.
I grappled through my classes on serial killer profiling, attempting to maintain focus on the lecture, but the vivid flashes of the night before hijacked my thoughts. The images lingered, and arousal kept seeping in, making it a hell of a challenge to concentrate on the subject at hand.
By lunchtime, the temptation to drive home for a quick rendezvous was almost irresistible. Packing up my materials, I was all set to make a swift exit when there came a knock at my classroom door.
Mark Hastings stood there, a casual smile on his face, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in my mind. "Hey, Jane. How's the day treating you?"
I forced a smile, my thoughts still tangled in the images from the night before. "It's going, Mark. What brings you here?"
"Just passing by and thought I'd see how my favorite profiler is doing," he said, leaning casually against a desk.
"Well, you found her," I replied, attempting to sound light-hearted.
As we exchanged pleasantries, I couldn't shake the weight of what I needed to say. The kid. The mission. I had to choose my words carefully. Finally, I took a deep breath. "Mark, we need to talk."
He raised an eyebrow, a touch of concern crossing his features. "Talk? About what?"
I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. But before I could find them, he dropped the bomb. "I've got a mission coming up. Heading out soon."
His words hung in the air, and suddenly, the importance of my revelation seemed to pale in comparison. "A mission? When?"
"Soon," he replied, his gaze searching mine. "It's a big one. Classified. I couldn't say anything until now."
A mix of relief and uncertainty flooded through me. The timing couldn't have been more impeccable or agonizing. "Mark, I..." I began, but the words trailed off.
He noticed the hesitation. "What's on your mind, Jane?"
I bit my lip, wrestling with the decision. "It's just... work stuff. You know how it is."
He nodded, understanding. "Yeah, it's part of the job. But if something's bothering you, I'm here."
I managed a small smile, the weight of my unspoken words lingering. "Thanks, Mark. Just take care on that mission, okay?"
He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek. "Always do, Jane. I'll see you when I get back."
As he left, heading off to the mission that would reshape our lives, I stood there, grappling with a mix of emotions. The arousal from earlier in the day had dissipated, replaced by a complex web of uncertainty and a looming sense of solitude. And in that moment, I made a silent decision to keep quiet about the baby. It wasn't the right time, and maybe, just maybe, it was the right move.
As Mark walked away, heading into the shadows of an impending mission, my phone buzzed with Maura's call. A welcome distraction, or so I thought. We couldn't really talk about Hastings, not yet. So, I just listened to what she had to say.
"Maur, what's up?" I answered, my voice trying to shake off the lingering weight of the conversation.
"Jane, Debra just called. Someone's interested in the last brownstone," Maura said, her tone carrying a sense of urgency.
"The last one, huh?" I mused, my mind already picturing the quaint Embrey Mills neighborhood.
"Yeah, and she needs to know what we want to do," Maura continued.
I sighed, the complexities of the day weighing on me. "Maur, you know I liked that place. Go ahead, talk to Debra. Be my proxy. If it feels right, do it."
"Are you sure, Jane? I know this is a big decision," Maura replied, concern evident in her voice.
"I trust your judgment, Maur. You know what I like. I've got one more training session, and then I can head over," I assured her.
"Alright, Jane. I'll handle it. Just focus on your session. We've got this," Maura said, her confidence providing a small comfort.
We exchanged a few more words, and as I hung up, I couldn't help but appreciate the steadiness Maura brought into my chaotic day. One more session, and then maybe I could escape the complexities for a while.
Three hours later, I found myself at Embrey Mills, the quaint neighborhood where our potential new home awaited. Maura was already there, deep in discussion with Debra, surrounded by a sea of cabinets and tiles.
Surprisingly, I had opinions about the cabinetry and the master bathroom, much to Maura's amusement. She smirked, and I couldn't help but suspect that she orchestrated this, knowing I'd have something to say. Maura casually mentioned that she picked them based on cost, but my mind wasn't preoccupied with financial concerns. My position at the Academy had given me more than enough, and my bank had greenlit a purchase twice the cost of this house.
As we discussed the details with Debra, there was a subtle shift in the air. It was clear to anyone paying attention that Maura and I had been... engaging in certain activities. She didn't overtly touch me, but she leaned into me, a subtle closeness that spoke volumes.
Debra, sharp as ever, started picking up on the change in dynamics. But I didn't care. Why wouldn't I want a woman like Maura on my arm? The chemistry between us was undeniable, and if it showed, so be it.
The air felt charged with anticipation as I signed the last of the documents, sealing the purchase agreement for the house at Embrey Mills. Debra, ever the astute sales manager, inquired if Maura's name would be attached to the home. With a firm resolve, I made it clear that the purchase was solely mine. After arranging an electrical walk-through in three weeks, Maura and I strolled toward my car.
As we walked, Maura mentioned opting for an Uber. Her reasoning was logical, citing the convenience of getting home. However, I couldn't shake the desire to explore our new surroundings with her. "What about we check out one of the local bars around here?" I suggested.
We stumbled upon a spot resembling the Robber Baron, conveniently across from a hotel. The ambiance was welcoming, a diverse crowd filling the space, and the food was surprisingly satisfying. Throughout the evening, I sipped on sprites while Maura indulged in her wine, but the conversation flowed effortlessly, making everything feel oddly normal again.
However, it wasn't until we returned to the apartment that I mustered the courage to voice what I'd been contemplating all evening. "Wanna go again?" I finally asked, my heart racing.
Her smile was both reassuring and exciting. "I thought you'd never ask."
And just like that, our journey into uncharted territories seemed to gain momentum, the uncertainties shrouded by a newfound sense of possibility.