Finding my way home

by sombaf

I close the door and lean against it for a moment before shaking my head and climbing the stairs to my bathroom to enjoy that well-deserved and long-awaited bath. As I sip my glass of red wine, my thoughts wander back to Jane. Again, there are these feelings that I simply can't name and this almost irresistible urge to do something. But what? For what? Against what? Why?

7. Chapter 6

Chapter VI

(Maura)

It's 4:08 AM, and it takes me a few seconds to understand where I am. My back hurts a little, and I'm sure Jane's neck isn't particularly happy with our current sleeping position on the couch either.

"Jane?" I whisper, gently stroking her cheeks to avoid startling her.

"Jane, wake up."

She finally opens her eyes, looking just as confused as I felt a few minutes ago.

"Jane! It's 4 in the morning...don't you need to go home?"

I'm slightly panicked, imagining how angry HE might be if she returns so late. She usually makes sure to be home before him, and I could kick myself for being careless and falling asleep with her on the couch. If he hurts her because of my lapse, I'll never forgive myself.

She sits up, pulling her legs in and wrapping her arms around them, her head bowed.

"I...do you want me to leave?"

Uncertainty. Disappointment.

She barely finishes the sentence before I realize the misunderstanding.

"NO."

For a brief moment, she looks so vulnerable that I can't help but gently pull her into my arms and kiss her forehead before I articulate my thoughts more clearly.

"No, I don't want you to leave, quite the opposite. But your husband, Jane. Won't he..."

I can't finish the thought. Instead, I tilt my head forward slightly in a typical "you-know-what-I-mean" gesture and raise my eyebrows.

"Casey is on a fishing trip with his army friends until Sunday evening."

I nod in relief and stand up, pulling her hand as I do.

"Then let's go to bed," I comment. She follows me without a word of protest.

I give her some orange shorts and a white tank top, throwing her blood stained clothes directly into the washing machine before we lie down next to each other in bed, awkwardly intertwining our fingers.

(Jane)

I enter the house. It's dark. But it smells like pancakes, coffee, and Maura. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. A warm, fuzzy feeling floods my body. It feels like home.

Before I can even shrug off the too-heavy backpack from my aching shoulders, I hear a voice.

"Hello, darling."

It's HIS voice.

His hands glide over my body, and I shudder. He is possessive and rough. His hot breath seems to surround me from all sides. I can't see anything and don't know exactly where he is. It feels like I'm blind. Panic rises as I hear his sinister grin, and I want to run away.

"Where do you think you're going, Jane?" He emphasizes my name as if it were poison and pulls me back. Menacingly, relentlessly.

"Leave me alone!"

I scream, flailing wildly, my hands clenched into fists, hoping to hit him somewhere. I just can't see where he is. He seems to be everywhere. In front of me, behind me, beside me, even above and below me.

I slam hard against the door, desperately trying to find the handle. He grabs my feet and brutally pulls me to the ground before I feel a dull pain in my stomach.

"No! Please! Let me go!" I tremble in pain, barely able to move. Again, I feel a blow to my upper body, making me nauseous.

"No! Please!" I cry. I scream. He holds me tightly. Mercilessly. Unrelentingly. I can't move. I want to escape.

(Maura)

I'm just leaving the bathroom and notice Jane tossing and turning in bed. Her face is twisted into a grimace, her hands clenched into fists. The thin summer blanket is wrapped tightly around her due to her uncoordinated movements, restricting her further. She fights and struggles. Beads of sweat form on her forehead, tears roll down her cheeks, and she repeatedly murmurs two words: "No." and "Please."

Nightmares, I think.

I move closer to the bed and try to calm her with words before sitting beside her and attempting to soothe her with gentle touches.

"Wake up, sweetheart."

I kiss her forehead, gently stroking her hair, and finally, finally, she seems to wake up.

She opens her eyes, and it hits me what I've seen in them for months but couldn't name: horror.

She sits up abruptly, pulling her legs tightly to her chest and burying her head in the small gap between her knees. Silent sobs shake her body.

Wordlessly, I sit next to her and pull her from her curled position into my arms. In situations like this, there is simply nothing to say. It's not okay, and it's not all right. It's terrifying and nerve-wracking, unfair and exhausting, draining and depleting. There are no words to describe what such dreams do to an already battered soul. So, we sit in my bed minutes, maybe even hours. She's quietly sobbing in my arms, while I stroke her back and occasionally kiss her temple gently.

After what feels like an eternity, her breathing calms, and I let myself fall back into the soft pillows, gently pulling Jane down with me. Just as I'm about to reach for the bedside lamp, her hand stops me.

"Can we leave it on?"

Her voice is so soft and fragile that I can only nod before a much better idea forms in my mind. As a child, I was often afraid of the dark, but the light from a lamp was too harsh, making it hard to sleep.

I get up and go to the cylindrical glass in a corner of my bedroom, which holds a large, white candle. I light it and turn off the lamp before crawling back into bed.

The gently flickering candle casts the room in a warm yellow-orange light. I look at Jane questioningly, and she nods with a smile.

Her almost inaudible "Thank you" is accompanied by a gentle kiss.

I close my eyes, feeling the warmth, the comforting sensation that surrounds me. As I lay on my back, I pull Jane into my arms.

"Are you comfortable?" I ask softly, gently drawing large circles on her back with my fingertips.

I can't make out her reply, but the contented sigh that accompanies her mumbling is enough an answer for me.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Maura, what on earth are you doing?" Jane's shocked, questioning face peeks out from under the blanket.

I turn around, laughing, and continue searching for my yoga gear.

"It's 7 AM, on a SATURDAY. You should be in bed, sleeping, Maura!" She pulls the blanket over her head and grumbles something unintelligible.

"Firstly, Jane, we—both of us—normally get up earlier on Saturdays to meet for our 7 AM jog in the park, and secondly, I always go to yoga at 9 AM on Saturdays." I sit on the edge of the bed, tilt my head slightly to the side, and lift the blanket to look into her eyes. Before standing up again, I lean forward to give her a quick kiss on the mouth.

"Go back to sleep, I'll be back by 10:30 at the latest." I lean down one last time to give her another kiss before leaving the room.

"Would you like to join me?" I add, turning one last time.

She rolls her eyes, and I laugh as I head to the kitchen to start my breakfast routine.

As the coffee brews, I lean against the kitchen counter, lost in thought, sipping my glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. I look out the window at my large front yard and glance up. The sky is dark and cloudy, and it has already started raining. I open the window and take a deep breath, closing my eyes. I love the smell of summer rain, that earthy-sweet scent, the smell of wet grass and cooling asphalt. It seems as if the leaves of the trees and bushes only release their unique fragrance through the gentle touch of raindrops.

Hands wrap around my hips and slide over my waist to my stomach, where fingers interlock. I feel the warmth of her body pressed against mine and let myself sink into the embrace, my head resting slightly back on her shoulder.

"A penny for your thoughts." And a soft kiss where my neck meets my shoulder.

"I have a few friends coming over for dinner tonight. I had planned to eat in the front yard, but the weather..." I trail off, the rest seems so obvious.

I turn in her embrace and loosely wrap my hands around her perfect neck.

"I thought you wanted to sleep longer." I wink at her.

"We're going to yoga class." She smiles back.

(Jane)

Okay, I admit it: I HATE yoga. The last time I did it, I could barely move for three days afterwards, and I was a few years younger than I am now.

I was pleasantly surprised that the yoga session wasn't as bad as I had anticipated. Actually, it was quite relaxing...something Maura must never find out. I laugh inwardly, feeling like an idiot—one look from Maura and she'll know I enjoyed it.

Slowly, I grow impatient and maybe, just maybe, a bit jealous. I've been waiting for over five minutes while Maura still talks to the young, stunningly beautiful yoga instructor who—by the way—had been shamelessly staring at Maura's breasts the entire session.

Wait, is she licking her lips while talking to Maura? Oh my God... I almost roll my eyes out of my head, feeling the jealousy rise within me.

But look who's talking. I'm married, to a man, having an affair—is it an affair already?—with a woman, and I dare to be jealous. What have I gotten myself into?

I sigh and run my hands through my hair in frustration. Yes, it's really something to tear your hair out over.

"What was that for?"

Naturally, I completely missed Maura standing next to me during my internal monologue, and now I have to come up with a lie in seconds without blushing. Speaking of lying… I'm practically a pro at it by now.

I just shrug and follow Maura down the narrow hallway. Her butt is amazing, and her legs are the perfect length. Her hair is tied in a loose ponytail, with a few drops of sweat gliding down her neck. She even makes sweating look sexy… and I stare. Hopefully, I'm not drooling like that wannabe posh yoga instructor.

(Maura)

Admittedly, sometimes I'm a bit clueless about other people's intentions and generally seem to interact better with the dead. Although interact is probably the wrong word regarding the dead. But her tense smile combined with that look, that expression, I deciphered in a few milliseconds: jealousy. And yes, I know very well that Ashley has undressed me with her eyes more than once, her gaze moving between my lips and my breasts. After all, I'm single, and nudging Jane out of her comfort zone doesn't hurt anyone.

Jane was obviously jealous, which confirms my belief that this is more than just a meaningless flirtation for her. But the almost domestic routine that has developed between us in the last 24 hours won't last long, and to be honest, we've gotten ourselves into quite a bit of trouble. Jane is married to a violent and likely unpredictable man. Whether she will ever leave him, and if she even wants to, is still unknown. In the worst case, she'll rip my heart out and takes it with her if she leaves me—for Casey. Will she leave me for him? Or will she leave him for me?

I push the dark thoughts aside and return to the article on the latest developments in prenatal diagnostics while Jane sleeps with her head in my lap. The dark circles under her eyes have become even more pronounced over the past few weeks, and I'm relieved she finally found some rest after last night's incident and is now sleeping peacefully, breathing evenly with relaxed features.

I glance at the clock. 3:30 PM. I should start thinking about dinner. After the nerve-wracking past few weeks, and with Josephine's team being joined by a familiar face, I seized the opportunity to introduce the future colleagues to each other. Maybe I should ask Jane if she'd like to stay.

"Sweetie, I should start preparing dinner. The others will be here at 6 PM, and I haven't prepared anything yet."

I whisper to avoid startling Jane, and she awakens—slowly and gently for once.

"Would you like to stay? They're all police officers, maybe you could have some good conversations?"

I hope so much that she agrees. I immensely enjoy my time with her, and despite the absolute irrationality of the idea, I want to introduce her to my friends.

"Well…if I'm not an inconvenience?"

That uncertainty again, making me hate HIM even more.

I shake my head and brush a wild curl from her face before kissing her.

"You're never an inconvenience, sweatheart."

"Then let me help you in the kitchen. I'm a pretty good sous-chef."

She smiles and winks mischievously. I could cry with happiness at the sight of a completely relaxed and, for a brief moment, carefree Jane.

xxx

I just closed the door behind JayJay and replay the evening in my mind as I head to the kitchen. Overall, everything went well. The detectives and agents discussed cases, boasted about their best arrests, and laughed a lot. The evening almost went off without a hitch, and I mentally pat myself on the back.

I only noticed Jane's discomfort twice. The first time was when JayJay, who will join Jo's team from the FBI in Quantico in September, entered the house, hugged me lovingly, then shamelessly kissed me extensively on the corner of my mouth and placed her hand perhaps a bit too low on my back. The second time was more troubling when Danny knocked over the cutlery while gesticulating, and it clattered loudly on the floor. Jane excused herself to the bathroom but returned to the table a few minutes later and nodded, smiling at my silent "Everything okay?".

"So, you and JayJay… you seem to know each other well?"

I turn to the sink to hide my grin, letting my hair fall into my face.

"We've been friends for a long time."

I let the sentence hang in the air for a moment before continuing.

"She just moved here from Quantico and starts with the team in September. I thought it would be nice for her to meet her new colleagues in a more relaxed setting than at work."

I feel her hot breath on my neck and her hand exactly where JayJay's hand had been hours earlier.

"Friends? Well, Dr. Isles, that seemed like more than just friends?" She emphasizes the word "friends" more than the others.

I turn around, laughing, raising my eyebrows: "Are you jealous, Jane?"

She just glares at me, grinning.

"We were together for almost two years before she went to Quantico for the FBI. We met at a forensics seminar I gave at BCU. That was ten years ago. Are you satisfied now?"

She nods, and we return to our usual topics, chatting while we clean and tidy up the kitchen.

"You look tired, Maura."

Her voice is concerned. I shrug, hoping she won't probe further. I stayed up nearly all night, soothing Jane from the beginnings of her nightmares. Whenever her forehead furrowed or she clenched her fists, I touched her gently and whispered in her ear that she was safe with me, that no one would hurt her here, and that she could sleep peacefully.

"You hardly slept, did you?"

I can't tell her the truth because I know she'd feel like a burden.

She steps closer and pulls me into her arms. I rest my head on her shoulder, inhaling that typical Jane scent.

"Go on, upstairs. Take a hot bath while I finish up the kitchen."

With that, she gently pushes me toward the stairs, and I obey, too tired to argue.

(Jane)

I enter the bedroom and see the flickering light shining through the narrow gap of the ajar bathroom door. Quietly, I push the door open and lean against the door frame, admiring her perfect body to Vivaldi's Summer.

She lies in the large, well-filled bathtub set into the floor, surrounded by the warm, flickering light of small candles she lit. The air bubbles from the jets play around her body, and the few lights from the bottom of the tub create an illusion of her floating in the water. Her head is tilted back, her eyes closed, her features smooth and peaceful. Her breasts are barely covered by the water, moving in sync with her deep, even breaths. One leg is bent, her arms lay loosely at her sides.

I feel a bit like a voyeur standing here, holding two glasses of wine, staring at a completely naked woman in a bathtub.

I step closer, and she opens her eyes, greeting me with that enchanting smile that reveals her sweet dimples. I stand for a moment at the edge of the tub, letting my gaze travel over her body. How can someone be so beautiful?

"Would you like to join me?"

The question is asked without any ulterior motive, and I admire her selfless and considerate nature.

"No, it's okay."

Oh, how I'd love to join her. But I can't. I hate this damn mind-fuck that prevents me from acting normally anymore.

I sit on the floor next to the tub, leaning against the opposite wall so I can watch Maura. We're both lost in our own thoughts, and I wish we'd talk just to avoid facing the ghosts that have haunted me for weeks-months-years.

I've completely lost control. My life is a mess. I'm sitting in this bathroom with this beautiful, intelligent, charming, warm-hearted, and very naked woman who has done nothing but good for me. How I wish I could let go here, with her, just the two of us. How I wish I could get into that bathtub and caress her body. How I wish I could give her everything of me, just as she's given me everything of her.

But I can't. I don't deserve her. It won't be long before she realizes how useless I am, before she loses patience and pushes me away. I am nothing. A nobody. Maura is far too good for someone like me. I bring only harm to people. Nothing good comes from my existence. Casey is right when he blames me for his misery.

I can't let go. I don't deserve to be happy. I don't deserve HER. What am I doing here? How could I let this happen? How could I let myself loose controll like this?

I shake my head vigorously.

I have to leave. I don't deserve to be here, with her. She deserves so much more than me. I need to go.

(Maura)

I knew it would be pointless to ask her to join me in the tub, yet I was still a bit disappointed by her response.

We sit in silence, lost in thought, so close yet so far apart.

After a few minutes, I dare a glance in Jane's direction. She's leaning casually against the wall, her head tilted back against the tiles. The flickering candlelight and the gentle movement of the illuminated water reflect on her perfectly sculpted face, highlighting her distinctly feminine features in an almost surreal way.

She shakes her head, and I see the few tears accompanying the end of Vivaldi's Winter.

Just as I'm about to pull her out of her thoughts, she opens her eyes, and despite the dim light, I see the coldness in them.

"I have to go, Maura. Thank you for everything."

Without giving me a chance to respond, she leaves the room. I want to follow her, talk to her. But as soon as I get out of the tub, I hear the heavy front door of my house close.

She's gone.