Maura arrived at work the next morning to a small commotion. She could hear the raised voices of both Jane and Angela coming from the Division One Café, and in spite of herself, she found herself drawn closer. Was it possible that the women were at odds? Was it about Jane? Maura's heart clutched a little at the thought that Angela Rizzoli might have let the whole Italian Catholic thing get the better of her in reaction to her daughter's love life.
Maura peered around the corner to see Jane using every last inch of her considerable height to stretch herself over the counter, flailing and failing to reach something.
"Oh my GOD, Ma, please!" Jane's voice always cracked a little when she got frantic. "Where did you even get this?!" The detective suddenly lunged forward, coming off her feet entirely, and retreated a moment later with something in her hands. Maura craned her neck to see, and when Jane turned her body just slightly, the item came into view.
A Pride flag. A rush of relief.
"They're not exactly hard to find, Janie, I think you know that this is a very gay state," Angela said pointedly, and Jane groaned. "Now give it back! That's café property." Angela reached for the flag, but Jane pulled it away from her mother, repeatedly moving it to keep it away from Angela. It looked to Maura like Jane was waving it, and Jane must have made the same observation, because she shifted her position to be able to keep it still at arms length. Maura looked around the seating area, relieved for Jane that there weren't too many people there to see this, and as far as she could tell, none were cops.
"Ma, please." Jane's voice was more than a little desperate. "This is really… so sweet, but you don't have to do this."
"Well, I don't want anyone here to think that I don't love and support my daughter!" Angela gave up on trying to grab the flag, and instead defiantly placed her hands on her hips.
"No one would think that. I promise you that no one—"
Angela interrupted her. "The puh-flag pamphlet said you can't take it for granted that your kids know. You need to show clear and obvious support to—"
Jane interrupted her right back. "I promise I know," she said through gritted teeth. She looked strained, as if unsure on whether to continue. "Also, it's not 'puh' flag, Ma. It's pronounced P-FLAG."
"PEE Flag? How is that better?" Angela stared at her daughter in shock.
Jane threw her arms up, her flag-free hand clenching like she wanted to grab the other woman and shake her.
"It's…not?" she admitted, exasperated. "But it's how it's said. Ma, please, just put this way. At least for now. I appreciate it, I really do. You can put it out in June."
Angela gave her daughter a grumpy look, but opened her hand for the flag to be returned, in silent agreement that she would respect her wishes. Jane handed the flag back. "I really do love and support you, Janie," Angela added quietly. Jane sighed in that way that Maura knew well, that way she did when she was at her wit's end, but knew she'd been a little hard on her mother.
"I know, Ma. I love you. I'll see you after work, yeah? I'll take you out for dinner."
Angela nodded, her eyes a little wet. Jane turned around quickly, much quicker than Maura was expecting, and stopped in place when she realized that the doctor had seen most, if not all, of the interaction. Maura drew both her lips into her mouth to wet them, preparing to speak, but found herself without anything worthwhile to say. There was a lot a friend could say, but they weren't that anymore. She gave Jane a little shrug, hoping that it would be taken as a silent 'no big deal', and moved back into the corridor to continue to her office. To her slight surprise and unexpected disappointment, she didn't hear Jane following her.
It was suddenly 12:45 and Maura was all caught up on work. She'd even written two performance evaluations that weren't yet due for several weeks. She sighed, running both hands through her hair before shaking out her tense shoulders. She had fifteen minutes before Jane would arrive. Not enough time for even a quick lunch, but she didn't find herself very hungry anyway. Perhaps some meditation. It would be good to be as calm as possible before seeing Jane. Maura got up from behind her desk and lowered all the blinds and dimmed the lights before returning. The skirt she was wearing wouldn't accommodate the lotus position, but she settled into her office chair with an upright posture and placed her hands in her lap. She took a long, deep breath and focused on emptying her mind of thoughts and connecting with the physical sensation of breathing.
Does she have a lunch date?
Maura frowned, trying to push Jane out of her mind's eye. She exhaled slowly, tried to centre herself again.
Is it a serious relationship?
Her eyes fluttered open, and she slumped back in her seat with a sigh. This wasn't going to work. Meditation was out, rumination was in. She'd barely slept the night before, because every time she quieted her mind enough to start drifting away, some dumb thought about Jane popped into her head. It was silly of her to think an attempt at meditation would end any differently.
She glanced at her wrist watch, saw that four whole minutes had elapsed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. Why was this bothering her so much? What did it matter if it was a serious relationship? First of all, they weren't friends anymore. Second of all, even when they were, she'd always wanted that for Jane. It had been so frustrating to watch her blow it up every time a man declared his interest in something stable and secure, and the way she had emphatically declined opportunities for something that was more casual, too. Maura wasn't sure how Jane would define her sexuality currently, but if she had in fact determined she was a lesbian, it certainly would go a long way to explaining her fight or flight response to relationships with men.
But Maura was bothered. She looked at her watch again. Seven minutes. She blew out a frustrated breath.
How did Jane never figure this out before now? As a rule, Maura tried not to deal in stereotypes, but there were just so many at play here. Jane was a woman drawn to a predominantly male dominated profession. She was averse to 'girly things' and fought against every dress she's ever had to wear. She loved sports and beer. She went undercover as a lesbian, told Maura she'd be the man in a hypothetical lesbian relationship, even had that bartender kiss her on the neck to collect DNA.
Suddenly, Maura's stomach sank a bit. Was it possible that Jane had known this about herself all along, and just hadn't told Maura?
Much like Maura hadn't told Jane?
Maura squeezed her eyes shut. She was experiencing the beginning of a headache, as well as the dawning realization that she was very possibly sitting around getting mad at Jane for not disclosing something to her that she had never revealed to Jane. Though, to be fair, she'd come right up to the edge of it a few times.
Maura had been with women, though not recently. In medical school, she and another woman in her cohort had availed each other of the therapeutic benefits of sex, particularly as regarding stress management. There had also been another woman, a teammate on the equestrian team, and that one had been just for fun. Other than those two women and a couple smaller flirtations, it had been mostly men in her life, who Maura found much less complicated.
When she had arrived at BPD to meet the officers after her appointment as the Chief Medical Examiner, she had initially believed that Jane was gay. An assumption, yes, but again, there were so many boxes that were checked. It was a very understandable and educated guess.
She had also found Jane immediately and viscerally attractive. She pushed those thoughts aside for reasons of professionalism, and soon learned that Jane was straight, which snuffed out the attraction entirely. Jane assumed Maura was as well, and Maura never corrected her. At first, it was in cautious self-preservation; a rough and tumble Italian American Boston cop wasn't number one on anyone's list of likely LGBTQ allies. Eventually, they became friends, and then best friends, and Maura knew that Jane wasn't a bigot. But at that point so much time had passed, and Maura had long since buried the memory of that initial attraction. She genuinely, honestly forgot about it at times. It just wasn't important, certainly not in comparison to their deeply meaningful and fulfilling platonic relationship. So why tell her?
She had nonetheless come close a few times. Very selective ways of phrasing things had prevented any hive outbreaks. She didn't think there was any harm in holding the information back, but now, as she found herself so upset at the possibility that Jane had done the same, she realized that maybe Jane would also be angry.
Maura glanced at her watch, and then did a double-take. It was 1:13. The doctor had fallen deep into her thoughts. And where was Jane? She checked her phone for texts or missed calls, peered through the blinds to see if she was standing in the morgue. But there was no word or sight of her.
It was 1:37 by the time Jane burst into the coroner's office, and Maura had worked herself up into a minor fury.
"Really, Jane?" Her words dripped venomously. "I know that over the years you got used to having me at your beck and call, but this is ridiculous. I'm actually quite important and busy."
Jane inhaled a sharp breath, and Maura could see she'd been running. She bent at the waist, palms on her thighs, the fabric just above her knees bunched up in her fists.
"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I couldn't—"
"Get away from your date?" Maura interrupted to finish Jane's sentence, and regretted it instantly. Jane stood up straight, stared hard.
"My what? What date?"
"I know you know I know." Maura shot back, and felt immediately ridiculous at the phrasing. Who was she even becoming in all of this? She cleared her throat. "I'm certain Barry told you that I overheard their conversation." She wasn't actually certain, and she hoped she was out on the right limb, otherwise she had already broken the promise she made to Angela and the detectives about exercising discretion.
Jane observed her for a moment before speaking. Maura wasn't sure how, but she could tell Jane knew Maura had guessed. Finally, she answered, "Yes, he told me."
Thank god.
"But I wasn't on a date, Maura."
Goddamnit.
Maura pulled in her upper lip, scraping it hard through her teeth. She was certain that any moment now she would think of something to say that wouldn't make her seem like the world's smallest person. Jane continued instead.
"I promised Tommy I would drive him to a job interview. He thought maybe being taken by his cop sister would help with the whole convicted felon thing. His interview went well, ran long. Then typical Boston traffic on my way back." Jane folded her arms across her chest, tilting her head at Maura.
"Well that's nice. For Tommy. And of you." Maura offered dumbly. She was on her way to feeling like an absolute jerk, but then had a realization. Her back straightened, and she met Jane's gaze. "But you couldn't call? Text?"
Jane opened her mouth to speak as her eyes darted away from Maura's. She sighed, took a moment, and finally did speak. "That part was just me being an asshole."
"Grow up, Jane," Maura muttered. Jane's eyes went wide.
"Me? ME grow up? I've been trying to be the bigger person here for weeks, and you've been grinding your pretty little heels into the ground, refusing to budge an inch. I didn't call or text because I found myself dreading this. I was honestly grateful to be held up."
Jane's words landed like body blow. Maura winced, turning to leave, despite it being her own office. She had to get out of there. And she had to keep—or more accurately restore—her cool.
"Jane, I really don't have time for this," She said as coolly as she could and reached for the door. Jane's hand snapped out to grab her arm and stop her. Maura's wrist burned white hot where Jane's firm grip held her, and her breath hitched as her stomach leapt into her throat. She ripped herself away and stared at Jane, rubbing her wrist with her other hand, uncertain if the thunderbolt had struck them both. She searched the taller woman's face for any indication. Jane was angry, and also something else. Suddenly Maura was speaking, and she couldn't stop the words.
"It should have been me."
Whoops, that's not… That doesn't sound quite right. Let's try that again.
"I mean, I should have been the one that helped you realize you were attracted to women."
Oh my god, is that worse? That is absolutely worse. One more time.
"As your best friend," Maura began, pronouncing the words emphatically. Jane had blanched, but the colour was slowly returning to her cheeks as Maura clarified, "I should have been your confidant, the support network that helped you work through these feelings. I can't believe after all those years... and then just a few months apart, and suddenly you're having these big realizations about your life."
Jane stood there silently. Maura struggled for a single word the feelings that gripped her insides. She was upset, angry, a little jealous, and deeply sad. Angst?
That's the one.
The detective sucked in a big breath and let it out very slowly and methodically. She pulled in another, and Maura could tell she was counting. Were they not having a very awful fight, Maura might have pointed out that the benefits of yoga and meditation and mindfulness had obviously rubbed off on Jane, even if just a little. She said nothing, and waited for Jane to finally speak.
"Maura," Jane began calmly, seriously. "First of all, isn't it true that it's often easier to talk to an outsider when dealing with a major life event? That's like the whole point of therapy, isn't it? Isn't it easier to say things to someone who you really won't be experiencing the consequences with? And I swear to god, if you say something about me ending my sentence with a proper whatever, I will hand in my resignation today."
Maura was quiet for a moment before responding,"…Preposition. And actually, that's quite an antiquated rule. It's good to avoid doing it when there's a better alternative sentence structure, but sometimes the effort to resist ending on a preposition leads to much more awkward grammar than if—" But she cut herself off when she saw the look of exasperation on Jane's face. She cleared her throat, and instead addressed the other part of Jane's statement. "I actually think the primary point of therapy is that you're discussing your mental health with a mental health professional, but yes, you're right," she sighed. "There are studies."
"Right," Jane said. "And so I had some feelings, and I went and talked to someone who wasn't really part of my life."
"Technically, I wasn't part of your life at the time, either." Maura didn't want to sound resentful, but she knew that she did.
"You know what I mean," Jane snapped off, exasperated. "And that was absolutely your choice, by the way. Okay? I'm not the one that's put us where we are. And then second of all, Maura, I cannot believe you're making my dating life about you!"
Maura felt lightheaded. What was she doing? Who was this person — this petty, emotional, spiteful woman standing in front of Jane? Had she really thrown Jane's romantic life back in her face? Was she really making herself the main character in Jane's personal life? She let go of her wrist and rubbed her forehead with the palm of her hand, eyes closed. She spoke without opening them.
"You're right." She continued, eyes still closed, "You're completely… I have no right. No standing." Maura opened her eyes, but avoided Jane's gaze. "I apologize, both for all of this, whatever it is, and for creating what is clearly a hostile work environment. You shouldn't be dreading a conversation with a colleague," she sighed, finally looking up at Jane. There was a flicker of regret on the other woman's face when Maura repeated the word she had used. Maura continued, trying to steer the conversation back to professional ground, "I have a duty and an obligation to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and a detective shouldn't have reservations about seeking my expertise."
"Maura, it's not—" Jane sighed. "We've been doing a good job. We both have. You don't have to be sorry to the Commonwealth. Let's just get to it, yeah? Can we talk this case through?"
There was almost nothing Maura wanted less right then than to talk shop, but she nodded anyway. "Of course."
Jane looked relieved. She was gathering herself up to say something else when suddenly, the clouds parted, the angels sang, and the light and grace from heaven shone down directly upon Maura, because Jane's cellphone buzzed. She grasped it in her hand and both women instinctively looked to the doctor's cellphone sitting on her desk. It stayed silent. Jane answered hers.
"Rizzoli."
Jane looked at Maura while she listened to the voice on the other end, but Maura couldn't hold her gaze. She swiped her fingertips across her lips, looked around the room, tried to not let on how desperate she was that Jane would get pulled away by work.
"Okay, that's great. Hold him until I get there."
Maura wondered if she suddenly believed in a higher power. She might have to. Maybe someone broke the investigation open and they would never even have to have this meeting. She looked back to Jane, feeling much more composed now that she knew this was almost over.
"Sounds like you have to run," she feigned disappointment. "Good news, though?"
Jane shrugged. "Not likely. But Frankie blew a hole in one of the gardener's alibis, so they picked him back up for further questioning. My gut says he's not the guy."
"Ah." Maura didn't say much else. A zippy remark about hunches and speculation might have normally filled the space between them, but Maura had done so much of that lately that there's no way she could criticize someone else for it.
"This still has to happen," Jane pointed to herself and then to Maura, and did it a few more times for emphasis. "I'm serious. Can I…" and she suddenly looked very nervous, "…come over tonight?"
Maura couldn't keep the shock off her face. They hadn't met outside of work since before the shooting. One time Jane had arrived to visit her mother just as Maura was leaving for a benefit auction, and she'd just sat in her car until Maura got into her own and left.
"You can't," Maura stammered. "You're taking your mother out for dinner." She realized that she was effectively admitting that she had eavesdropped on Jane's conversation earlier, but she'd already embarrassed herself much worse than that, so it hardly ranked.
"Well, yeah. And I'm dropping her off. I'll be ten feet away. I'll just come over after. Please, Maura," and the way she said her name caused Maura's heart to seize up in a new and unwelcome way. "It'll be super professional. Sit at the table, hammer it out, have the great epiphany we're waiting for, and I'm out that door, riding off into the sunset to solve this crime."
Maura took a deep breath.
"The sun will have set at least forty-five minutes prior to your arrival."
Jane's eyebrows spiked up. "Did you just make a joke? Is that a yes?"
Yes," Maura nodded, "to both."
Jane was giving her a long look, and a strange one. Like she was looking at someone she hadn't seen in a long time. Suddenly she was taking a step towards Maura, eliminating the space between the two women. Maura's field of vision shrank to a pinpoint as she could suddenly think of only one reason why Jane might close the distance between them. Her traitorous body lit up like a roman candle when Jane's familiar scent suddenly filled her senses.
The detective reached out, past Maura, and placed her hand on the door knob.
Fuck.
Maura reeled, stepped aside to give way. If Jane noticed, she didn't let on.
"I'll see you tonight. I'll text before I come over," Jane offered.
Maura waved the notion away, still a little overwhelmed to speak. She pulled in a quick breath before answering, "It's fine. Unnecessary. Just come over."
"Okay," Jane nodded. She looked for a moment like she had one more thing to say. Her phone vibrated again, this time a text, and she set her jaw and left.
Maura stood rooted in place for a long time after Jane departed.
