"Jane," Maura breathed out, winding her fingers in Jane's tangled hair, surely as wild as she'd ever seen it. "You really don't have to."
It was easy to hear how unconvincing she sounded, not that it mattered. Not even the most emphatic declaration could have overcome the way her hips rolled up against Jane's searching mouth, the desperate way she pressed herself against the softness of Jane's flattened tongue, the strangled gasp she released when Jane wrapped her lips reverently around Maura's swollen clit.
It was really getting to be a bit absurd how often Maura was on the edge of climax so soon after waking up. Not ten minutes ago, she'd opened her eyes to the welcome sight of Jane depositing tender kisses along the trail of minor damage she'd left the night before, lips pressing gently against all the red marks that were precursors to the minor bruises that soon would form. Maura bruised easily, which Jane knew, but it didn't stop her from fretting over Maura's left shoulder, both hips, all over her thighs, until finally settling between Maura's legs to lay a sincere apology at the site where she'd done her most emphatic work.
Not that there was really anything to apologize for. It was true that Maura ached already and she knew it would only get worse yet, but it was a welcome and restorative pain. She'd gotten what she needed the night before, and then some.
The previous night's sex had been revelatory, which it always seemed to be. As Maura had hoped she would, Jane took charge in a way she really hadn't before. Their love-making typically came with a good deal of push and pull, but for once Maura had only wanted the push, and Jane had performed admirably.
It was no secret that Jane was turned on by service. The evidence was all over Maura's hand every time she touched Jane after Jane had made her come. At first blush, she'd understood that Jane would be hesitant, but she'd also known that once they'd gotten started, once Jane saw the effect her dominance had on Maura, Jane would find her home in it, and she certainly had.
Even better, Jane had also taken Maura's desire to quiet her racing mind way beyond their intimacy. From the moment they'd gone upstairs to the moment she fell asleep, Maura didn't have to think about anything. After they'd recuperated in bed, Jane had gathered Maura in her arms, helped her out of bed, slipped her into a favourite robe. Maura had been uncertain on her feet, so Jane insisted she sit back down on the bed while Jane dressed herself in a tank top and boxers, and then Jane had guided her carefully to the ensuite bathroom.
The whole evening was the slightest bit hazy in Maura's recollection—not in a dissociative way, but the emphasis on feeling over thinking had turned her memories a little dreamlike. Nonetheless, Maura very clearly remembered laughing while Jane bashfully averted her gaze when Maura peed. She recalled the way that Jane had carefully lifted her so that she was seated on the bathroom vanity, how she had once again positioned herself between Maura's spread legs, only this time in order to gently and diligently remove Maura's make-up with a cleansing wipe.
She'd barely let Maura do anything beyond brush her own teeth, and even for that she'd demanded that Maura remain seated on the vanity, had insisted on preparing both their toothbrushes for them before returning to her spot between Maura's thighs.
It was somehow their most intimate exchange of the evening—the way they looked into each other's eyes, lips coated with toothpaste suds, Jane grinning shyly around the handle of her toothbrush, her free hand running along the length of Maura's outer thigh. When it came time to spit, Maura had hooked her hand around the back of Jane's neck to anchor herself as they both leaned over the sink, and when Jane returned them both to their upright position she'd surprised Maura with a firm and foamy kiss. Their tongues had slid together, the kiss messy from toothpaste and sloppy from how Jane couldn't stop grinning throughout it.
From the moment their relationship began Maura had adopted a long view, but that kiss was the first time she'd started thinking in terms of forever. She couldn't remember much of the rest of the night, only that she'd let her toothbrush clatter in the sink, locked her legs around Jane's narrow waist, and eventually found herself back in bed. Grounded by Jane's firm body wrapped around hers, Maura was able to enjoy a mercifully dreamless sleep until she was roused by the start of Jane's careful appraisal of all her softest places.
Jane's careful, ongoing appraisal.
With a sharp gasp, Maura arched her back, pulled out of her thoughts by the pleasure tightening in her belly, the gentle pressure of Jane's tongue bringing her along slowly, so slowly, but not in an attempt to tease, but rather in an effort to ensure that there wasn't even one moment of discomfort, one instance where it was too much or too fast or too hard. Maura had experienced quite an absence of genuine and unreserved care in her life and Jane seemed committed to making up that deficit all on her own.
She was doing an excellent job, too. Maura's breathing gradually became shallower as her stomach coiled tighter, her thighs tensed, the heat gathered at the base of her spine, ready to explode up and out. She moaned softly as Jane once again wrapped her lips around her clit, sucking gently before applying the length of her tongue in broad swipes. Maura was sore. She knew that. But that knowledge was becoming increasingly academic with every escalation between her thighs.
Normally, Maura was one for being very present. She really made a point of it. But she couldn't help but let her mind drift once again to the night before, but this time to revisit its more carnal aspects. She thought about the delicious strain on her jaw as she took Jane's strap deep in her mouth, the relentless grip of Jane's hands, the sting and the stretch as Jane gave her the full length of the toy.
It had hurt at times and she'd welcomed it—asked for it. More than once in her life, Maura had confused hurt with love, but she knew she wasn't wrong this time. Jane had given herself over to what Maura wanted, had found it within herself to provide it, and had done it with so much care and caution. Maura was so grateful.
Moaning eagerly, Maura tightened her grip on Jane's hair, both because she knew by now that it drove her wild and to encourage her onward.
"Harder," she gasped out, emphasizing her demand by pushing herself up again against Jane's messy lips.
Jane wordlessly vocalized her surprise, the low rumble again making Maura rock up into Jane's mouth to chase it, then increased her pace and pressure (Jane was nothing if not accommodating). Maura was nearly panting now. She was so ready—willing, wet, open, every ache she'd woken with barely even a memory, the only one left a much more recent development. She needed Jane desperately and Jane knew it. She slipped a hand beneath her chin, slid two fingers inside Maura, and started the chain reaction.
The orgasm ripped through Maura, igniting every nerve ending, sending her hips flying up from the bed. Jane, already so well-versed in Maura's physiological responses, had her hands on either side of Maura's pelvis and she rose smoothly up with her, keeping her tongue against Maura to lap gently against the force of her climax, to moan softly as her mouth flooded with the proof of it.
Dopamine, oxytocin, love.
The human body was such a wonderfully resilient thing.
Gently towelling her hair dry from the shower, Maura exited her ensuite bathroom to find Jane seated on the edge of the bed in her bra and underwear hunched over a phone call. Her cell was pressed tightly to her ear and she was speaking lowly to someone who Maura could tell by tone alone wasn't family, Frost, or Korsak. While Jane's voice was always authoritative, it was especially so whenever she was speaking to other officers.
Maura looked over at her own bedside table. To get a call this early in the morning almost always meant a body, but the screen on Maura's phone was dark. She walked over to it and tapped one finger against the screen, checking that it had in fact charged overnight. It lit up with no missed call notifications on the screen. She turned back to find Jane with her whole body tense and her expression dark.
"Make sure they lock it down," Jane said. "Don't let anyone touch anything until I get there, not even CSRU. Let 'em know I'm thirty minutes out." She stood up as she spoke, walking over to one of the drawers that had quickly become hers, pulling out a clean t-shirt. "No, that's fine. I'll call Detective Frost myself."
Jane hung up and rubbed her forehead hard with the palm of her hand. Maura's anxiety spiked.
"The medical deaths? Another body?" she asked.
"Maybe the medical deaths," Jane said slowly. "But, no body. Missing person."
"Another doctor?"
"Yeah." Jane shifted uncomfortably where she was standing by the dresser, staring down at her phone screen. She sucked in a deep breath and finally looked up and over at Maura, her expression somber.
"Hope Martin's daughter called the police to say her mother never returned home last night," Jane began. "She hasn't been able to reach her and she's worried because she saw the press conference."
The feeling that overcame Maura was a strange one. Her body went cold, hands numb. Her heart started beating erratically and she quickly lowered herself down to sit on the edge of the bed before she could begin to feel faint.
It should have been shocking to hear, and while a cold chill cascaded down Maura's spine, it was a feeling of a sick confirmation more than surprise. It had only been a minute or two since she walked out of the bathroom, just a few moments where she was studying Jane's body language, but Maura knew her too well not to have guessed that whatever was going to come out of her mouth was going to be personal.
Maura drew in a shaky breath.
"That doesn't mean—"
"There's surveillance footage." Jane's voice was strained when she said it. Immediately, Maura realized the burgeoning internal conflict for Jane: this was threatening to be a devastating turn of events for Maura and potentially a huge break in the investigation for Homicide.
"She…" Maura trailed off, not quite sure where she'd been planning to go from there. "From the banquet, you mean?"
The banquet where she'd spoken to Hope Martin just once. The banquet where she'd emphatically decided not to try to speak with her again.
"Yes," Jane said, jaw tight. She stood up and Maura watched as she briefly rocked in place, clearly unsure about whether to comfort Maura or continue to get ready and Maura almost smiled. It was actually quite sweet, in a bittersweet way, being placed anywhere on the same level as Jane's concern for a crime scene being compromised. Jane took a quick peek at her watch before looking apologetically back at Maura. "Cameras caught a man leading her out of a service entrance. She was stumbling, looked dazed."
Maura swallowed thickly. "Drunk, maybe."
"Yeah," Jane conceded, taking a few steps towards the closet. "But also maybe drugged." She slipped quickly in and out of the walk-in, one of her work suits on a hanger in her hand when she emerged. She frowned heavily.
"I'm so sorry, Maura, but I gotta go. I can't let anyone mess up the scene, this could be our only chance."
"I'm coming with you." Maura stood up.
Jane hesitated for just a moment as she pulled on her trousers, then dragged them the rest of the way up her legs. She looked at Maura with deep-set concern. "Maura, there's no body. There's—people are going to wonder why you're there."
"It's my investigation too, isn't it?" Maura said, a little surprised at how authoritative she managed to sound.
"Yeah," Jane said slowly as she tucked her t-shirt into her slacks. "I mean, yes, obviously. But…you're the chief medical examiner. There's no, um, medical…to examine."
Maura pulled a sharp breath in through her nose. "What are you really worried about, Jane?"
There was no question it would be rather unusual for a medical examiner to be at the scene of a suspected kidnapping, but not for Maura to be. Maura was quite often involved in investigations to an extent that was far beyond the bounds of her job description, and particularly given their publicly-known relationship, it was unlikely that anyone would be especially surprised to find her accompanying Jane anywhere at 6:47 in the morning.
For the briefest moment, it looked as though Jane was going to deny having an ulterior motive for why she was discouraging Maura from attending the crime scene with her, but she exhaled forcefully, shoulders slumping at the same time.
"I'm worried about you," Jane admitted, eyeing her warily. "You just met her for the first time and I think it's fair to say you're a little fragile about it. You haven't even talked to me about it." Jane threaded her work belt through the loops on her slacks. "I'm concerned someone might realize it's personal for you. You've already had your professionalism questioned over Doyle."
Immediately, Maura opened her mouth to respond defensively, but she had the good sense to press her lips together instead and think on it for another minute. Her gut reaction was to be offended at the implication that she wouldn't be able to approach this investigation with the detachment necessary, but quickly on the heels of that initial impulse was the unfortunate realization that Jane was probably right. Maura had established a bit of a pattern when it involved family members, first with the rash decision to go undercover in the investigation of her mother's hit-and-run, and then with her entire response to the Doyle fiasco.
She bit her lip, tried to honestly assess how she might react if she accompanied Jane, what it might feel like to stand in the security room of the Fairmont-Copley, surrounded by cops and security guards and anxious hotel managers. She considered what emotions she would have to suppress as she watched with forced impassivity as her biological mother—who is quite possibly aware that Maura is her thought-to-be-dead daughter, but maybe isn't, but probably is—got abducted.
It was true that Maura hadn't really allowed herself to process their interaction last night yet, had barely even considered Hope Martin as anything more than a theoretical probability. The idea of dealing with her very real existence while also contending with the possibility that Maura may never get another chance to speak with her did not seem like an ideal recipe for a very professional day at work.
"Well I can't stay here," Maura said bitterly, a grudging concession that she wouldn't return to the hotel with Jane. Jane's eyebrows jumped in surprise, as if she couldn't quite believe she said what she said and it didn't result in an argument.
"I can drop you off at the precinct first," Jane offered quickly, like she needed to lock down the agreement before Maura could change her mind. She slipped on her blazer and made her way over to the bedside drawer that contained the small handgun safe that held her service weapon, shooting a nervous glance Maura's way.
Maura made a wordless sound of agreement as she opened a drawer on her dresser and pulled out a crisp pair of black slacks. Being dropped off at the precinct was acceptable, she decided. There was plenty to distract her in the crime lab, both with this investigation and others. She knew that Jane would come down to the morgue as soon as she returned, deliver whatever news she had, and Maura would be safe in the privacy and sanctuary of her office whenever that happened.