Maura stood in her walk-in closet, eyes closed, fingertips pressed hard against her temples.
Picking outfits was fun.
Picking outfits was normally fun, anyway.
All week she'd been going back and forth on what to wear to the MEND fundraiser. With Jane so occupied with the case the last few days, Maura had spent the majority of her spare time whittling down her wardrobe to a select few options. She thought she'd finally made up her mind last night but without warning, about an hour before they were due to leave, the choice seemed wrong. She sighed.
Maura had missed Jane during these dog days of the investigation, but a hidden benefit to Jane's total focus on the case was that the typically astute detective hadn't noticed Maura's anxiety as the day of the gala approached, and thank goodness. Maura was hardly able to admit to herself what had her so flustered about the evening and she certainly wasn't prepared to explain it to Jane yet.
At least she had Jane's outfit picked out—that had been the easy part. Jane already had the trousers with her but Maura reached over to where the jacket still hung, lightly fingering the fine wool of the now-expertly tailored grey blazer they'd picked out together last week. It wasn't the most exciting of the suits that they'd picked out, but much as she wanted to see Jane in her tuxedo jacket, the dress code for the event was cocktail attire not black tie, making the grey suit the perfect choice.
Maura angled her head over her shoulder as she heard the sound of Jane exiting the en suite bathroom. She took a few steps backwards and poked her head out of the closet door and saw Jane dressed in her robe, holding up the new boxer briefs that Maura had laid out on her bed next to the slacks with a raised brow and a slight smile. For the first time in days, Jane looked refreshed and alert. On instructions from Korsak, Maura had disabled Jane's alarms to force her to sleep until she woke up naturally and Jane slept until nearly 9am. Miraculously, she wasn't even that upset when told about her sergeant's scheme to restore her depleted energy levels. They both worked an abbreviated day at the precinct and had been back at Maura's by 5pm for an early dinner before the event.
Maura ducked back inside the walk-in and took a deep breath.
If she were being honest with herself, which for once didn't hold much appeal, Maura would admit that her indecision about what to wear was likely a convenient distraction fabricated by her subconscious in order to obfuscate her actual dilemma, and it had worked; over the last few days she'd barely thought about anything besides fashion choices.
"Jane? Could you come in here?"
A moment later Jane's head popped around the doorframe, followed shortly by the rest of her. She was already in her trousers but still topless and Maura took a moment to appreciate the sight of her. Maura had always enjoyed how Jane's style leaned a little more androgynous even if she'd done it in polyester and mostly by accident. Now, however, she was wearing quality pieces and very intentionally leaning into her masculinity and it worked on Maura like little else had ever done.
The tailoring on Jane's slacks was impeccable; they'd opted for a shorter hem with the intention of Jane wearing the suit with oxfords instead of heels. The new belt that matched her new shoes perfectly had been fed through the loops of her pants but still hung open and unbuckled, her pants zipped but still unbuttoned, and Maura felt a small thrill shoot through her. No matter how expensive and refined the pieces she picked out for Jane were, the detective possessed an innate turbulence that never settled. There was something perpetually rough-hewn and perilous about Jane's presentation and Maura hoped that never changed.
Tempted as she was to slip her fingers behind the waistband of Jane's slacks and tug her forward, Maura instead gestured between two dresses hanging side by side.
"What do you think?" Maura asked, looking from Jane to the dresses and tilting her head thoughtfully. Jane came through the door fully in order to appraise both dresses carefully and up close. An unexpected benefit of regularly showing Jane what was beneath Maura's clothes was a greater appreciation for the clothes themselves—this same question months ago would have been met with an eye roll but now Jane was taking the responsibility seriously.
Maura watched as Jane's eyes flicked over to where her suit jacket was hanging and then back to the dresses. Her heart warmed at the gesture. Obviously, Maura wouldn't have narrowed down to these two dresses if they didn't both go well with Jane's outfit but she appreciated the extra effort anyway. Jane reached out and pulled one dress off the rail, spinning the hanger between her fingers to see the reverse of it. Her eyebrows jumped as she noted it was backless.
"This one," Jane said, voice low and confident. Maura clicked her tongue in admonishment but her stomach dipped anyway.
"I should have seen that coming," Maura responded affectionately, taking the dress from Jane and looking it over with a fresh perspective. "But I think you're right." The dress was a deep blue, calf-length and fitted, and despite the vast expanse of back it exposed, it had a very modest neckline. It was both a refined and confident choice, and if her dress could broadcast confidence, perhaps she could too. She leaned up to press a kiss against Jane's jaw and Jane grinned at the attention.
"Of course I am." Jane reached for her carefully pressed dress shirt and draped it over one arm. Maura reached out to stroke a hand down Jane's bare back.
"Thank you for still coming with me tonight, Jane. I know it's hard to pull yourself away from the case."
"Well…" Jane began, a little hesitant. "I don't mean for this to sound like I wouldn't do this for you, because I would, but being in a room full of Boston doctors isn't exactly unrelated to the investigation. I think I'd be trying to get into this event even if I wasn't your plus one. Especially now."
Maura nodded. "It's going to be on the six o'clock news?"
"Yeah." Jane set her jaw, looking annoyed. "Someone leaked to Kitty Vansen. My guess is Crowe, pissed off that we took his case. The chief offered her an exclusive next week if they allowed BPD to organize a press conference instead of Kitty making it look like we're withholding information about a possible serial killer."
"It could be helpful, Jane," Maura said, though she was equally annoyed at the idea of Kitty getting anything she wanted out of the situation. "Especially getting the picture of our John Doe out there. Someone might be able to identify him."
"I know," Jane sighed. "I just… If this killer wants attention, and they usually do, I hate giving it to them."
"Sometimes it draws them out," Maura pointed out, standing on tiptoes to try and reach a shoebox. "They make mistakes when they try to show off for the media. It becomes a game."
"Yeah." Jane's voice was a little distant as she stared at nothing. She shook herself back to the present and reached up, bringing the box down for Maura.
"So hey. What should we call each other?" Jane said as she handed the shoes to Maura, peering curiously into the box when Maura lifted the lid to check if it indeed contained the heels she'd wanted. Maura looked up to Jane at the question, arching a brow.
"Are you asking about pet names or labels?" Maura exited the walk-in, placing the beige Gianvito Rossi box atop her dresser and rifling through her drawers until she found a strapless adhesive bra now necessitated by Jane's dress choice. Jane made a mildly dejected noise as Maura placed it alongside the shoebox, surely a result of discovering she had not, in fact, tricked Maura into leaving the house braless.
"Labels," Jane responded, pulling her shirt off the hanger. "I don't really do pet names."
Maura made a skeptical noise. "You called me both 'sweetie' and 'honey' long before we ever started dating, but if you say so."
"Quite the memory." Jane grinned and slipped on her shirt, deciding for herself to forgo a bra or undershirt. "Did you enjoy those moments?" "I was crying for one of them," Maura said pointedly. Jane looked abashed. "So labels?"
"Yeah, I mean, tonight is probably the first night we may have to refer to each other as…whatever we are?" Jane rubbed the back of her neck, a little awkward. "I love you, I swear this isn't some weird commitment thing, I just genuinely don't know what to say. I think I feel a little old for 'girlfriend'—or maybe too serious for it. I dunno. It just doesn't fit."
Maura watched Jane stumble through her explanation with great fondness. Stilted as it was, it looked good on Jane when she talked about her feelings, and Maura's heart fluttered at the notion that they were too serious to be girlfriends.
"I find 'partner' works."
"But that's what I call Frost." Jane wrinkled her nose. "What if I'm introducing you both? People will think we're a triad."
Maura pressed her lips together to keep from grinning.
"We could do worse than Barry," Maura said. Jane shot her a look.
"Ew, Maura."
"Fine." Maura shrugged as she undid the belt of her robe, then stepped delicately into the pair of panties she'd just selected from one of her drawers. "Lover?" "Absolutely not." Jane scowled, but her eyes dropped to Maura's underwear choice with great interest. Maura rolled her eyes, but pulled the lingerie up her thighs much slower than she had to, running her nails lightly along the lace once she had everything situated. Jane's eyes followed the path of Maura's fingertips before continuing. "'Nice to meet you, this is my lover'? Nope. No way."
"You know, Jane," Maura started dryly, walking over as Jane began to button her shirt. "I have to say, your public persona is quite at odds with your bedroom persona."
"Yeah, I surprised you, didn't I?" Jane leveled Maura with a devastating smirk. Maura felt her cheeks redden, because yes, Jane certainly had, but Maura managed to keep her expression cool as she placed her palm over where Jane's hands were buttoning her shirt. Jane's fingers went still beneath Maura's touch and she obediently dropped her hands away and to her sides.
"Significant other?" Maura asked as she took over the job, buttoning only the bottom few buttons of the shirt, keeping a long strip of Jane's bare sternum exposed. She looked up at Jane, expression almost challenging, as she started to tuck the hem of the shirt into Jane's trousers.
"Too long." Jane swallowed (a bit thickly, Maura noted with satisfaction) as Maura traced a line all the way up Jane's chest, then adjusted the collar of her shirt. Maura gave her a chiding look.
"Then I think we've circled back to girlfriend or partner, Jane." She lightly patted Jane's cheek. "You'll have to pick one. There really aren't any other options."
Jane shrugged as she buttoned her pants and buckled her belt. "Not yet, anyway."
The words were spoken so casually, so offhandedly, that it took a full beat for Maura to register what future possible labels Jane might have been implying. As realization dawned, it stole her breath like walking into a sharp wind. Jane's expression was unreadable as she stared down at Maura, her hands dropping to Maura's hips and encouraging Maura to turn around. Jane gave Maura a light tap on the rear, as if to send her on her way. There was a smile in her voice when she spoke.
"Go get dressed, partner."
The Grand Ballroom at the Fairmont Copley Plaza was one of Maura's favourite venues in Boston. It was her belief that it was Boston's finest example of Renaissance Revival architecture and Maura loved the history of the hotel as well, much of which she was able to share with her unusually patient date on their way to the event. Seated in the back of a town car, Maura explained how the hotel stood on the grounds of the original Museum of Fine arts and was the first in the city to have air conditioning and how the two gilded lion statues out front had originally been located in front of a different building. Jane, sitting so handsome in her new suit, watched her with soft eyes and zero interruptions.
It was true love, surely, the way Jane indulged her. The ever-observant detective could clearly tell that Maura needed the distraction, even if she didn't yet know what was weighing on Maura. She'd told Jane the gala had made her nervous and it wasn't unusual for Maura to be a bundle of nerves before social obligations, but she could tell by the heft of Jane's gaze that Jane still suspected there was a little more to the situation.
Maura was torn on whether she wanted to explain herself. Part of her felt duplicitous for keeping anything from Jane and another part desperately craved her perspective and assurances, but she also knew that as soon as she spoke the words out loud she would have to decide how she wanted to proceed. She wasn't quite ready for that.
When they arrived at the gala, it was abundantly clear that, although the evening news had only just ended, news of the murders was spreading fast. Rather than the usual networking and socializing that occurred at these events, guests were huddled off into groups, illuminated by the light of their smartphone screens, voices urgent and animated as they shared in the gory details. The only silver lining to all this gossip was that many in the room surely knew the missing and murdered doctors and hopefully, one of them would know their first victim, too.
In a way, Maura felt a little at fault for their investigation hijacking an important medical fundraiser. It wasn't her doing of course—certainly not the murders themselves, and not the leak to the press or the timing of it, but her connection to the Boston Police Department, the way that many of the guests were bunched together almost conspiratorially, had her feeling heavy with responsibility.
If anyone actually blamed her they certainly weren't showing it. In fact, so distracted were the people in the ballroom that Jane and Maura's entrance initially went unnoticed and they had a few precious moments of anonymity where they could take in the room. Inevitably, however, someone looked up and over and recognized them both. Once identified by one person their identities and jobs spread quickly through the space and the chatter only increased.
Maura, of course, was already well known to many in the ballroom and had been for some time; even before her appointment as the CME she had been a regular in many of Boston's finest event spaces, whether with her parents, on Garrett's arm, or often alone. Jane was no stranger either. Beyond the fact that, more often than not, she had been Maura's date to these functions over the last few years, Jane's many highly publicized cases meant that she was, all on her own, a person of some notoriety in Boston.
The hordes descended immediately, albeit politely, and Maura wondered how they ever could have been so foolish to think that Jane could ever have flown under the radar and gathered intel. As the first group approached, Jane dropped her hand down to Maura's and gave it a reassuring squeeze before releasing. Maura gave Jane a small smile and got ready to face the mob.
Several hours later, Leaning against a pillar at the side of the room, Maura checked her watch and noted that more than enough time had elapsed to officially count as having made an appearance. She rolled her shoulders and flexed her toes inside the pointed tips of her towering heels.
The upside of the attention the two of them had gotten all evening was that Maura had found herself sufficiently distracted for most of the event. Doctor after doctor had approached, making weak attempts at small talk before peppering her with questions about the suspected serial killer. It happened over and over, interrupted only by the fifteen minutes during which Doctor Hope Martin had taken the stage and delivered an impassioned speech about the liberating force that cost-free and judgment-free medical care could be for vulnerable women and children.
Or so Maura was told anyway—after the fact, by many of the other guests who once again found her and used the rousing speech as their conversational icebreaker. Maura herself had barely heard a word of the speech, focused instead on her heartbeat pounding in her ears and the way her fingers were laced so firmly together with Jane's on her lap. She'd come to this event specifically to see her and found that she could barely look at her. She could tell Jane was desperate to ask her what was wrong but when the speech ended, they'd quickly found themselves separated by all the prying guests willing to settle for just one of them if it meant not having to wait to ask their questions.
Eventually, after what felt like a minor eternity, Maura found the moment of peace she was currently enjoying off to the side of the room. She pressed her palm to her forehead and sighed, needing some time to gather herself before she went on the hunt to find Jane.
"Doctor Isles?"
Maura turned around, ready to go with her well-worn speech about being unable to comment on an ongoing investigation, but was stopped cold. The woman in front of her was elegant and poised. She stood almost exactly Maura's height with almost exactly Maura's hair colour. Up close, Maura could see that the woman's hazel eyes were a little more brown than her own. They'd both worn a very similar shade of lipstick, in perfect compliment to their very similar complexions. She was the evening's guest of honour and Maura was terrified.
"I'm sorry for interrupting your moment alone, but I've been waiting to meet you." She smiled brilliantly and held out her hand to Maura. "Doctor Hope Martin. I'm supposed to be making the rounds but I can never pass up an opportunity to meet a fellow pathologist, especially one doing such interesting work."
Maura was immediately reeling. The woman she'd come to surreptitiously spy on had just introduced herself to Maura and this had not been part of the plan. Maura pulled in a shaky breath.
"Me?" Maura gaped. "I… you're the one doing interesting work, Doctor Martin. We're here because of your work."
"Please, Doctor Isles, I insist you call me Hope."
Maura's heart was beating erratically. She felt lightheaded and her vision was narrowing. Vasovagal syncope or panic attack? Maura blinked slowly, trying to surreptitiously regulate her breathing.
"Maura," she said. She should have used more words, but she was becoming quite certain she might faint. Maura noted with some relief that it seemed she was at least doing an adequate job of hiding her distress, as Hope Martin only looked at her fondly.
"Maura," Hope said, voice soft.
Maura knew she needed to find a way out of this interaction before she passed out but the words wouldn't come—her mind had gone entirely blank. Suddenly, she felt a familiar warmth against her side. Jane's hand gave her hip a reassuring squeeze and in an instant it felt like Maura's boat had finally hit shore after a long, rocky voyage. She looked up and over at Jane and pulled in her first complete breath in several minutes.
"Jane." Maura exhaled the name more than she spoke it. She placed her hand over the one on her hip and squeezed back. While Maura's anxiety may not have been apparent to Hope, it certainly was to Jane, and Maura looked away from Jane's questioning eyes to smile a bit weakly at Hope. "Doctor Martin—Hope," Maura corrected herself. "This is my partner, Jane Rizzoli. She's a detective with the Boston Police Department and we work together as well."
"Nice to meet you," Jane said. Hope blinked twice as she took Jane in and Maura would have sworn she looked surprised.
"Oh," Hope said. "Yes, likewise, Detective."
Just then, a tuxedo-clad caterer appeared beside them, one last flute of champagne on his tray. Maura watched as Hope eyed it with great interest, but she politely gestured to Maura and Jane first, gauging their interest. Maura shook her head while Jane lifted her other hand to show she had a glass of her own, so Hope helped herself to the drink.
"Thank you," Hope said gratefully, then took a sip. "I'm too nervous a public speaker to ever have a drink before my speeches, so this one is much needed."
"Your speech was great," Jane offered easily. "Not to sound like a scrooge, but Maura takes me to a lot of these and I've rarely felt so compelled to donate."
"That's kind of you to say," Hope said and cleared her throat a bit nervously. "Speaking of which, the board of directors will never let me hear the end of it if I don't rub shoulders with all the deep pockets in the room." She smiled apologetically. "But it was very nice to meet you both," she added. Her eyes fell on Maura and for a moment it looked as though there was something else she wanted to say, but nothing followed.
"It was nice to meet you as well," Maura said steadily, now operating entirely on polite society autopilot. She distantly heard Jane say similarly before Hope turned and walked away. No words were spoken until the other woman was well out of earshot, then Jane broke the silence.
"Wow," Jane murmured quietly. "Maybe it's just me, but she looks just like you."
"You mean I look like her," Maura said, still in a light daze. She could feel Jane turning to look at her, could easily imagine the puzzled look on her face morphing into one of dawning realization, but Maura's eyes were still fixed on the long departed figure of Doctor Hope Martin. She took a deep breath.
"She's my mother, Jane."
Hello! Just a reminder that while I'm committed to finishing this story here, all my future work will be exclusively on AO3. There's already a bunch of one shots over there that I haven't posted here. You can find me there under the same username.