When Jane stayed over at Maura's the first time, in the guest bedroom - a needless formality they did away with soon afterwards - Maura tucked her in. Despite running from her family (a member of which was parked outside, watching Maura's house), Jane needed some form of comfort. So Maura tucked her in, despite the fact they were both adults, despite Jane being a grown woman who'd faced down a serial killer. Jane sat up - she was constantly in motion, and Maura fussed around her, getting the sheets just right. Jane looked her in the face, and Maura stilled.
Jane leaned forward a little, pressing her thin, closed lips against Maura's cheek.
"Thanks for this," Jane mumbled, always so brash and harsh and unwilling to show any form of weakness.
"You're very welcome," Maura told her warmly, even though Jane had called her a robot. She must have been very scared to come to Maura for help, and seeing her offer up a little of her fear made Maura's heart sting a little. "I can stay, if you'd like."
Jane's eyes were soft as she considered Maura, considered the offer.
"I'll be fine, thank you."
"If you need anything, I'm just down the hall. Even if it's just company. Wake me up."
Jane's face crumpled, like Maura's kindness had reduced her almost to tears. She knuckled her nose, blinking hard, and simply nodded. Maura bit her lip and lay down again, on top of the covers so Jane would assume she was leaving soon. She rubbed Jane's forearm again until she heard Jane's breathing slow, then she rolled on her side to watch her colleague sleep.
Jane was the only one who helped her turn the bodies. The only one who didn't mind getting a bit of blood on her. The only one to help her to her feet in heels on a grassy field. They were colleagues. She'd heard Korsak call Maura Jane's work wife. Jane would drop down to the morgue with a snack or a sandwich for Maura on a long case, on a long night, and she would stay so Maura had company with her meal, sitting on Maura's desk with her feet on Maura's chair, next to her thigh. Maura liked her. Maura trusted her.
And it seemed like it was mutual. She tucked her arm under her head and tucked a loose blanket over herself. When Jane woke a few hours later, sweaty and heaving, Maura fetched a bin for her and held her hair back.
Not like a colleague would.
Like a friend would.
When Paddy returned Maura to the basement morgue of the precinct, Jane was frantic. Maura had heard what Jane had said on the phone; knew that Jane would have done anything to get her back. Jane would have have been owned by the Doyles if Paddy had heard her say that. Maura and Jane hadn't hugged, but they had kissed and slept in the same bed - the lesbian bar case, Maura had a customer get a little too handsy, and Jane had swooped in to rescue her, pressing a kiss to Maura's temple. Well. They hadn't kissed. Jane had kissed Maura, on the face, twice now. Maura was starting to wonder if it meant something. The way Jane had gotten lost in Maura's breasts had to mean something.
Maura called Jane, and heard her boots echoing on the concrete basement floor through the phone and in person as Jane flung herself into Maura's office, sweeping Maura into her arms so fiercely that Maura wondered if she'd be more bruised from Jane's desperation than from her recent kidnapping. Jane pressed kisses to the side of Maura's head, holding her so tight that Maura felt safe and secure for the first time in her life.
Jane drew back, a little embarrassed at her display of emotions.
"Are you okay?" Jane asked, her hands drifting over Maura's arms and face and hips, finding the mild abrasion on Maura's wrists from the restraints and hissing, going to the first aid kit on the wall and daubing antiseptic on the marks.
"I'm okay," Maura reassured her, letting Jane fuss over her, feeling warmth flood her chest at the obvious relief emanating from Jane, from the concern and care Jane was showing her. "I'm okay," she repeated, when Jane had finished bandaging her and was looking into her eyes like she'd thought she'd never see Maura again. And she was okay, because Jane had made everything okay. She let Jane wrap her long arms around her again, letting her head rest on Jane's chest, relieved to think of anything else than her biological family for a few moments.
Maura checked in on Jane frequently after she shot herself, and Jane grumbled and shuffled around and complained and Maura had never been so completely inside someone else's life. She had a key to Jane's place, although she always knocked. Jane didn't tidy when Maura was coming over, Jane never put up walls between them. Maura wasn't a guest to Jane; she was company. And if it got late, Maura slept on the other half on Jane's bed.
Maura had friends. Well. Acquaintances. She'd never had this kind of all-access pass to someone else's life. Not even anyone she'd dated. Jane was open and honest with her - sometimes too honest, her sharp tongue wounding Maura, at which Jane became immediately contrite, immediately apologetic. Jane was predictable, which was one of the things Maura liked most about her.
"I really don't wanna go," Jane whined, once Maura had her dressed and ready to go to the awards show.
"You're going," Maura insisted. "I've invested too much time for you to chicken out now."
Attacking Jane's sense of bravery was usually enough to get her to comply, but Jane had a stubborn set to her mouth today, and Maura sighed.
"I'm your date. If you're not going, I'm not going, and I look too good to waste it all on you."
"Trust me, honey, it's not wasted," Jane's raspy voice drew out. Maura turned in confusion to see Jane's blush. "I mean. Let's not waste it."
Maura nodded uncertainly, not sure what she'd heard. Jane leaned in and kissed her cheek.
"Thanks for putting up with me," Jane said softly. "I know I've been a pain, these last few months."
But when Maura thought back, all she remembered was laughing with Jane, who would stop and flinch and hold her stomach. Eating with Jane, doing her paperwork while Jane slept. Watching Jane sleep, often against Maura's shoulder, stroking Jane's hair to soothe her nightmares, sometimes kissing her head when it was next to her face. It hadn't been painful at all.
"You are, you know," Jane said lazily, finishing off a beer. It felt so different with her here than Giovanni; they had similarities, as Jane had pointed out, but Jane wouldn't flinch if Maura barfed on her. And Jane would never lick Maura's face without first checking to see if it was something she wanted. Maura topped off her wine and brought a fresh beer over. Jane had her boots on the coffee table again, her legs wide, her back slumped into the couch. She sat up when Maura handed her the beer, her knees apart with her forearms on them. She had such masculine mannerisms and they looked so good on her. That was probably why Maura kept getting shooting pangs of arousal from looking at her best friend.
"I am? I am what, Jane?"
"My lifelong best friend forever. Not, you know. Not the way we were saying it to Giovanni. But if in, say, forty years you called me to help you kill and bury your husband, I'd be on the next flight."
Maura was touched.
"I wouldn't need your help for that," Maura said, not mentioning that she was perfectly capable of murdering her own husbands and disposing of the bodies. The idea of a husband became less attractive with every man she dated, anyway. "But I understand and appreciate the sentiment."
"I better get going," Jane said.
"You've had two beers. You should wait an hour."
"Okay," Jane smiled over. She looked uncertain for a moment. "You ever want me out of your hair, just say the word."
"You're my l-biff," Maura told her, settling on the couch. Jane leaned back next to her and Maura leaned towards her, resting her head on Jane's shoulder, closing her eyes when she felt Jane press a kiss into her hair. Jane's arm slid over Maura's shoulders and this was a much, much nicer way to spent the evening with a tall, blue collar Italian with exquisite long bones and a killer smile.
After Jane killed Hoyt, they threw her a surprise birthday party. An odd choice to Maura, but she'd never been able to tell what was normal anyway. She'd gotten changed, but Jane was still in her sweat-soaked shirt, blood on the collar. Afterwards, Maura realised they were lucky Jane hadn't open fired into her condo after the days she'd had.
Maura could feel Jane's smile slipping. They'd hugged again; their third hug, Jane too excited to stand still. But the adrenaline was wearing off for Maura too now. She suggested to a few people that it was getting late, and they filtered out.
"You can stay with me, sweetheart," Angela told Jane, picking up on something from Jane's demeanour.
"No, I just want to be home tonight."
So did Maura, but she stayed until everyone left, cleaning up and running the dishwasher.
"Do you mind if I stay? I've had a - a rough day." Maura was sure Jane wouldn't mind if Maura stayed for her own sake, but if Maura made it sound like she was staying to keep an eye on Jane her walls would go up. Jane bit her lip, anguish on her face. "I don't want to go home alone tonight."
"I shouldn't have let you come with me."
Maura lay her hand on Jane's arm.
"You weren't going to let him hurt me."
"You're the only reason I'm still alive," Jane said as tears started to fall down her cheeks. "I couldn't stand the thought of him..." Jane's voice trailed off, and her fingers brushed the scabbing wound on Maura's neck so gently that Maura couldn't be sure that Jane had touched her at all. The next moment, Jane's hand was cupping Maura's cheek and Jane's lips were pressed against hers.
Maura had felt these lips pressed to her cheek and temple and head, but never to her mouth. They were softer than Maura had imagined, and sweet from the cake they'd been eating. Maura held still, scared to move in case Jane got spooked. She'd seen what Hoyt had done to couples. She'd seen the way he'd watched them, as though he knew there was more between them than work or friendship. She pressed back gently, so Jane would know her kiss was welcomed, and she felt Jane smile against her mouth before she pulled away and showed that same smile to Maura.
"Are you okay?" Jane asked as though she hadn't just kissed her, and all Maura could do was nod, a little dumbfounded. She'd expected them to be overcome with passion, if they kissed, but right now they were both exhausted and drained and worn out and traumatised. Jane nodded too, a sad smile on her face, and she didn't kiss Maura again. She went to the bathroom and set out a towel and something for Maura to sleep in, and she waited for her own shower. When Jane came to bed, she didn't keep herself over the other side of the mattress. She reached out for Maura and pulled her close, fiercely, possessively.
"If you have a nightmare, wake me up," Jane told her, and Maura nodded against her chest, comforted by the way Jane's hands stroked her back and hair. Even after a day like that, in Jane's arms there were no nightmares to be had.
Maura had been ready to forgive Jane, but Jane hadn't apologised, just tried to cover her own ass. Maura used words like ass now, which just made her angrier at Jane.
But Jane, tall, wonderful, brave Jane who had just had a murderer press a gun into a very fresh gunshot wound, told Maura she has something to show her, and Maura trusted her enough to go along, fidgeting in the car, her ire just below boiling point. Jane led her through the cemetery and knelt at the grave.
The grave with Maura's name on it.
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're not down there," Jane said gruffly, as close to an apology as Maura would get. Paddy had confirmed he'd have shot Jane, and Maura loved Jane more than Paddy - she must, otherwise she wouldn't have got in the car, would she? She remembered Jane confirming they were lifelong best friends forever, remembered how it felt when Jane killed for her. How it felt when Jane held her, when Jane kissed her. She shook her head and sank to her knees. A moment later Jane joined her, an arm over her shoulders that she couldn't find the wherewithal to shrug off, followed by a kiss pressed into her hair. Maura didn't like even being touched when she was very upset, but Jane superceded the instinct to flinch away, and Maura grabbed the lapel of Jane's ugly-ass evidence jacket and sobbed in her arms.
"They know, Jane," Maura said hollowly. The Martins had left the front door open, and Jane came in cautiously, closing it behind her. "They know who I am, and they... they hate me." Her voice caught on the second last word, and Jane closed the distance between them in a single bound, gathering Maura against her, into her chest where Jane's heartbeat and softness could comfort her.
"They're idiots," Jane said. "There's not a single thing about you to hate."
"They don't want me," Maura sobbed, her hands clutching Jane. "I finally found my family and they don't want me."
"Paddy loves you. Constance loves you. My family loves you. I love you."
Maura had told Jane one night, over toasted cheese sandwiches, that she loved her. Jane hadn't said it back, and her timing made Maura weep all the harder.
"I love you," Jane repeated herself, her hands smoothing over Maura's back. "Maybe they just need time. It's a shock. They might come around. If they could see the goofy, awkward, intelligent woman I do when I look at you, they wouldn't want to spend another second without you in their lives."
Maura raised her head, examining Jane. She nodded once, showing Jane she'd heard her. She was expecting it this time, when Jane's mouth met hers. She didn't pull away, and neither did Jane. Not immediately. She didn't deepen the kiss or turn it into something else. It was just an expression of love that was too great to be expressed any other way. When Jane did pull away, Maura let out a shaky exhale, almost a laugh.
"It's their loss, Maura. Everyone else who knows you wants you in their life. You've made my life so, so much better." Maura swiped at her wet cheeks until Jane's hand intercepted hers, Jane wiping away Maura's tears. Maura rested her head against Jane's chest and let herself be comforted.
"You too," Maura said quietly, as though her heart wasn't breaking.
After Dominic had been shot and Jane's wrists and ankles examined carefully by Maura, who carefully cleaned them and kissed the bones of Jane's wrists to keep her mouth away from the open wounds, Jane and Maura holed up at Maura's place. Jane was buoyantly cheerful; a mask. She made a joke about her head going on a honeymoon to Hawaii.
"I'd take you to Hawaii," Maura told her. Jane's hand rested on Maura's thigh for a moment and squeezed.
"I know you would, honey," Jane said.
"Is this how you felt when Hoyt had me?"
"He never had you," Jane snapped out harshly. She looked over, contrite at her harsh tone. "I mean, I don't know how you feel so I can't tell."
"I wanted to kill him the second I saw him touch you."
"Then yeah, that's how it felt."
"How do you live, being this... angry?"
"Do I look angry to you?"
"Not right now."
"I'll tell you the secret. To keeping the anger where it belongs until you find the guy who did it." Jane moved closer, her legs over Maura's lap as she lay down along the couch. "You find someone who makes you happy instead." Jane bit her lip and looked at Maura as though there was a secret code to her answer. Maura looked down at Jane's mouth, swallowing and wetting her lips before leaning down and pressing a kiss against Jane's mouth. She didn't linger, just hovered a moment, trying to express all her esteem for Jane and all the gratitude she had that she hadn't been hurt.
"I guess you do," Maura conceded, letting her hand rest in Jane's.
"How could I not know?" Maura was staring out her bedroom window into the courtyard below. She was wrapped in a thick bathrobe; Jane had drawn a bath for her and sat with her as she soaked out all the Dennis from her system. Jane didn't look up; she was looking at the unmade bed and probably remembering that Maura had said she hadn't slept with him because her bed wasn't made. And Jane was up here, and Maura was going going to sleep with her even though the bed was unmade. Jane was turning on the electric blanket and getting water from the kitchenette on the third floor to leave by Maura's bed, adjusting the blankets and pillows to make a cosy nest before discarding her boots and pants and blouse and settling in on Maura's side of the bed, opening her arms. Maura fell into them willingly, wondering if she was foolish to trust Jane this much. She'd gone home with Dennis too. Their bare legs brushed as Jane made Maura comfortable against her chest.
"You knew, or you would have slept with him," Jane said, her voice stern like she was staying a fact. She kissed Maura's temple, and Maura closed her eyes, soaking in the Janeness of it all. The soft scent of lavender, the strong arms that held her. The lips that always soothed her.
"Then why haven't I slept with you yet?" Maura asked, almost under her breath.
Jane froze.
"Because you're not attracted to me." Jane's voice was slow and cautious. Maura couldn't bring herself to look Jane in the eye.
"What if I was?" Maura asked in a very low, quiet voice. "Would you hate me?"
"I could never hate you. You're my l-biff, honey, you're not getting rid of me."
"Is that why you kiss me?"
"Honestly?" Jane chuckled and ran a hand through her hair. "I can't help myself. As soon as you're upset, all I want to do is kiss it better. Or kiss you until you feel better."
"Oh." Maura felt disappointed. She'd hoped it had been because Jane was attracted to her.
"I don't know what that makes me. Makes us. But if it stops you from dating guys like Dennis, then by all means, sleep with me instead."
When Maura braved a glance at Jane's face, her eyes were glassy, as though she wasn't being entirely truthful. Her jaw was set as though she was selling a lie.
"You don't want me," Maura realised, her voice cracking, the tears starting again. She'd thought almost getting murdered by a serial killer was going to be the worst part of her day, but it wasn't.
Jane spluttered in indignation. "Don't want you? I've done nothing but want you since the first time you lay beside me. Maura, I don't feel this way about anyone." Jane's voice cracked too, and through her tears Maura saw a matching set on Jane's cheeks. "I didn't think I was... not that there's anything wrong with being the kind of woman that likes women, it's just that I wasn't, and the church thought, when I was a kid, that it was wrong so maybe I thought it would be wrong if I was but I don't think other people who are are wrong, and there is nothing wrong with you and there is nothing wrong with me, and there is nothing -" Jane cut herself off and kissed Maura again, but this time with the passion she spoke with, with the passion that burned for justice that made her so good at her job, with the passion she apparently felt for Maura. Maura kissed her back with the same desperation, the kind of urgency she'd never felt before. She didn't care if it made her the sort of woman who liked women, because she loved Jane, and that was the only relevant information she had about attraction.
"Nothing wrong with that," Maura said when she was finally able to pull away. "Except I haven't made my bed."
Jane chuckled and pressed her forehead to Maura's cheek. "I can wait," Jane said.
"I can't," Maura said honestly, pushing Jane down on the mattress. She kissed her, again and again, the way she'd wanted to for years, and Jane kissed her back like she'd been waiting for longer.
It was too much, too soon after an awful day. But they had a lot of awful days, and once Jane realised Maura was sobbing again she held her close, held her still.
"I can wait," Jane said, and this time her hands didn't stop at Maura's waist when they ran over her to reassure her. They smoothed out all the self-recriminations and insecurities Maura had, filling her with the sense of safety and home she'd learned to associate with Jane.
"I can learn to wait. For you," Maura said seriously, and Jane nodded, kissing her forehead. "I mean it. You're the first person in my life to really see me and I -"
"You know what the worst part of this is?" Jane interrupted her. Maura looked at her curiously.
"The serial killer I was dating, or this new component of our relationship?"
"Oh he's dead, and I didn't even have to fill out a gunshot report. No, us."
Maura could think of serval downsides to a relationship with Jane - the long hours they both worked, the fact that they worked together, that they were both women and some of their families might have a problem with that. She shrugged and snuggled deeper into Jane.
"It's that the first person we told is Giovanni," Jane said, shaking her head. "Ma's never going to forgive me. She's been on my case about asking you out for years."
"She has?" Maura asked shyly.
"Yep." Jane sighed and stroked Maura's forearm with her fingertips, sliding down to hold her hand.
"You're not a serial killer, are you?" Maura asked, suddenly suspicious. Jane laughed, thinking over her body count in the line of duty, wondering if they counted.
"Not currently. But if you wanted me to be, I'd be on board. Anything to keep you safe."
"I'm not asking you to kill for me, Jane."
"But I would. I have."
Maura nestled deeper against Jane's chest, remembering how Jane had covered Maura with her own body when a rogue cop aimed a gun at them. The way Jane extinguished any threats to her. The way Jane had taken care of her for years, the way Maura took care of Jane when Jane let her.
She'd spent a lifetime being uncertain of her place in the world, and knew with sudden certainty that it was here in Boston, curled up in Jane.
Notes:
This is still not what I have been trying to write I am miffed.