From the prompt: "I read once that holding your breath can stop a panic attack so…when I kissed you…you held your breath."
The new crime scene was even more harrowing than the last. Another family home, another charred ruin, another set of shattered lives. Jane stood in the middle of the devastation, her brow furrowed in concentration as she scanned the remnants of the house. The smell of burnt wood and scorched furniture filled her nostrils, a nauseating reminder of how violently someone had torn apart yet another family's life.
"Same pattern," Frost muttered from behind her, snapping her out of her thoughts. "This one's a little different, though. The flames didn't spread as quickly as the others. Maybe the fire was started later in the night?"
Jane didn't respond, her gaze sweeping across the room as her mind raced through the details. Something about this scene felt wrong—like a misstep in the arsonist's pattern—but the pressure to move forward was suffocating. They needed answers, and they needed them fast.
"You alright, Jane?" Maura's voice came from behind her, but it was laced with something more than concern—something that caused Jane to stiffen in spite of herself.
"I'm fine," Jane said, her voice tight. She waved off the question, though she could feel the familiar tightness in her chest beginning to creep in. The stress from the case, the emotional weight of the victims, the constant sense of urgency—it was all building up, knotting her insides.
Maura, however, wasn't fooled. She'd seen Jane push herself to the edge more times than she could count. Jane's jaw was clenched, her breath shallow, her body rigid with barely controlled tension.
"You don't look fine." Maura took a step closer, her sharp eyes scanning Jane for any sign of discomfort.
Jane turned away slightly, her teeth gritted in frustration. "Maura, I said I'm fine."
But Maura wasn't backing off. She stepped forward, her hand gently resting on Jane's arm. "I've seen you like this before, Jane. You need to take a break. You can't keep pushing yourself."
"I'm not some damn kid, Maura," Jane snapped, brushing her hand away, though there was no real force behind it. She hated feeling like this—vulnerable, out of control—and Maura's concern, however well-intentioned, only made her feel worse.
"Just… breathe," Maura said quietly.
For a brief moment, Jane faltered, her breath hitching as she stared at Maura. She could feel the walls starting to crumble around her. The pressure in her chest built, and for a split second, she thought she might be sick. It was all too much—too much to handle, too much to keep bottled up.
Then, as if on cue, it happened. A wave of dizziness hit her, and the world seemed to tilt. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, each pulse echoing louder than the last. Her breath caught in her throat, refusing to come out, as though her body had forgotten how to function.
"Jane?" Maura's voice was low but insistent, her hands gripping Jane's shoulders as if to anchor her. Jane didn't know when she'd swayed, but now she found herself leaning heavily against Maura, the world spinning around her like she was caught in a whirlpool.
"I… I can't breathe," Jane gasped, her chest tight with panic. She forced herself to inhale, but it felt like the air was being sucked out of the room. Her hands trembled, and she clutched at her chest in a futile attempt to calm the rising tide of fear.
Maura's face softened with empathy, and she moved quickly, her fingers brushing the side of Jane's neck in an almost instinctive gesture. "It's okay," she murmured, though Jane could see the worry in her eyes. "You're having a panic attack. Just breathe, Jane."
But Jane couldn't. It felt like she was suffocating, like she was trapped inside her own body. "I can't—" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Maura paused, thinking quickly, then her gaze flickered to something—perhaps a memory or an article she'd read. She stepped closer, her voice now steady and calm. "I read once that holding your breath can stop a panic attack, so…" Her eyes met Jane's, and for a heartbeat, everything in the world seemed to narrow to that one moment. "When I kissed you… you held your breath."
Jane stared at Maura, confused, her heart still hammering in her chest. She wasn't sure what had just happened or what Maura had meant by that. Her mind was still clouded by the remnants of the panic attack. But before she could process it, Maura's lips were on hers.
It was quick, a moment of instinct, a connection more desperate than romantic. The shock of the kiss stunned Jane, freezing her in place. But somewhere in the whirlwind of panic and confusion, she instinctively did what Maura had suggested. She held her breath.
The panic still clawed at her, but with every second of silence between them, the room felt less suffocating. Jane focused on the air she was holding in her lungs, and slowly, gradually, the sharp edge of fear started to dull. The tightness in her chest eased, and her breath began to return to normal.
Maura pulled away just as quickly as she'd kissed her, her face full of concern, but there was something else in her eyes now—a vulnerability, an unspoken apology. "Did it help?" she asked quietly, her voice almost fragile.
Jane blinked, her chest still rising and falling unevenly. She looked at Maura, still dazed from the kiss and the lingering effects of the panic attack. "What the hell… was that?" she asked, her voice rough.
Maura flushed, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. "I—I'm sorry. I just… I needed you to hold your breath. It's something I read once for panic attacks. I didn't mean—"
Jane's head was spinning in a different way now, the panic attack all but forgotten in the wake of Maura's unexpected action. She still didn't fully understand what had just happened. But she felt a strange, intense calm spreading through her, even as her heart raced in a way that had nothing to do with the panic.
"I… I don't know what to say," Jane murmured, still shaken, but no longer feeling like she was about to lose control.
"You don't have to say anything," Maura replied softly, her hands settling at her sides as though she were unsure where to place them. "I just wanted to help."
Jane's gaze softened, a sense of gratitude, confusion, and something else—all swirling together inside her. For a moment, they simply stood there, both of them unsure of what to say or how to move forward. But for now, the tension had passed, and Jane could breathe again.
"Thanks," she whispered.
Maura nodded, her eyes meeting Jane's with an almost shy vulnerability. "You're welcome," she said, her voice quiet but steady.
They stood in the wreckage of the house, the remnants of the crime scene forgotten for a few moments. Neither of them knew what had just shifted between them, but for now, they didn't need to. The storm had passed, and Jane had Maura to thank for that.
Jane leaned back against the charred remnants of the kitchen counter, still trying to process what had just happened. Her breath was finally steady, and the wave of panic that had overtaken her had receded like a storm moving out to sea. But the emotional aftermath? That was still there, swirling in her mind like a storm cloud waiting to break.
She couldn't stop replaying the kiss—Maura's lips on hers, the warmth of it, the urgency. It had been quick, yes, but it had felt… real. Too real. And in that strange moment, it had worked. Her panic had subsided almost immediately after Maura kissed her, and she had no idea why that made her feel both deeply grateful and deeply unsettled.
Turning away, she swallowed hard. The last thing she wanted to do was show Maura how much the kiss had affected her. Jane Rizzoli didn't get rattled by kisses—not even the ones she didn't ask for.
"Well," Jane finally broke the silence, her voice louder than she intended, "looks like you've got a new technique to add to your medical repertoire." She shot Maura a lopsided grin, hoping to mask the vulnerability she was feeling inside. "Unconventional, but it seems to work."
Maura, who had been standing quietly with her arms folded in front of her, froze at Jane's words. She blinked rapidly a few times, as if Jane had slapped her. "I—I'm sorry, Jane. I didn't mean to—"
"Maura, relax," Jane interrupted, throwing up her hands in mock surrender. "It's fine. You've got your own brand of… hands-on medicine, that's all."
The flustered look on Maura's face deepened, her cheeks flushing a soft shade of pink that Jane had never seen on her before. "It was purely clinical," Maura said, her voice shaky as she adjusted her posture, her arms dropping to her sides. "I read about it in a study once—holding your breath can help manage the symptoms of a panic attack, and… well, I acted on instinct."
"Instinct, huh?" Jane raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest, her smile becoming a little more forced. "You sure you didn't just throw in some… mouth-to-mouth for good measure?"
Maura's eyes widened, and her face turned a deeper shade of red. "I—no! It wasn't like that at all, Jane. I wasn't… I wasn't trying to—" She stopped, shaking her head, clearly at a loss for words. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to help."
Jane softened, recognizing Maura's genuine confusion and embarrassment. The last thing she wanted was to make Maura feel bad about what had just happened, especially when she'd actually helped. She exhaled sharply, trying to ease the tension.
"Look, it worked," Jane said, her voice softer now. "I'm fine. I'm not… mad or anything."
"Good," Maura replied, nodding quickly, her eyes still not meeting Jane's. "I… I'm glad it helped."
They stood in an awkward silence, both of them seemingly caught in the aftermath of what had transpired. Jane didn't know how to act. The tension in the air was thick, palpable, and no matter how much she tried to convince herself that it had just been a clinical reaction, there was something undeniably intimate about what had happened. The way Maura had kissed her, the way Jane had felt in the moment—it wasn't just about panic attacks. It felt personal. Too personal.
Jane cleared her throat, trying to break the silence with something more professional, more familiar. "So… what's next with this case? We still have a serial arsonist to catch, right?" She turned away, her voice taking on the crisp, no-nonsense edge that had become her defense mechanism.
Maura nodded quickly, visibly relieved to return to the business at hand. "Yes, of course. We should focus on the evidence here and see if we can find any clues that might lead us to the suspect."
"Good," Jane said, glancing over her shoulder at Maura. "Then let's get to work."
But even as Jane tried to refocus on the investigation, she couldn't shake the way Maura's touch had felt earlier, or the look of uncertainty in her eyes when she'd kissed her. There was a shift in the air between them—something neither of them could deny, though neither of them was willing to address it outright.
Jane quickly busied herself with the remnants of the scene, carefully inspecting the charred furniture and walls, but her thoughts kept wandering back to Maura. To the kiss. To the strange, unsettling warmth that lingered on her lips.
She forced herself to focus on the case, but every time she glanced over at Maura, she caught the subtle shift in the other woman's posture. Maura was trying to act like nothing had happened, but Jane could see the way her gaze lingered just a little longer than usual, the way her fingers brushed against her own lips as if she couldn't quite believe what she'd done.
Jane could hardly blame her.
The tension between them grew as the investigation continued. Neither of them spoke of the kiss again, but it was there, hanging in the air like an unspoken truth neither of them was willing to confront.
As they worked, Jane found herself caught between two worlds—one where she was a hardened detective, doing what she did best, and another where the lines of friendship and something else were beginning to blur. It was disorienting, and for the first time in a long time, Jane found herself unsure of how to navigate it.
But as the hours dragged on, it became clear that the tension was not one-sided. Every time Maura glanced at Jane, there was something in her eyes—something more than just concern, more than just friendship. It was as if she, too, was struggling to come to terms with what had happened.
Finally, after hours of sifting through evidence, the team gathered their findings in the small break room. Jane tried to keep things light, cracking a joke to ease the tension. Maura, still looking a bit distracted, smiled weakly in response.
Neither of them mentioned the kiss again. But the air between them had shifted, irreversibly. The lines between friends and something more had been blurred, and no amount of humor or professionalism could erase it.
For the rest of the night, neither woman could ignore the unspoken words that hung between them. Something had changed, and now, they both had to figure out what to do with it.
The night air was thick with tension, the kind that pressed in on every side. Jane's heart was still racing as she and Maura stood outside the abandoned warehouse, the faint glow of city lights casting long shadows over the cracked pavement. They had been on the trail of the arsonist for days, piecing together evidence and chasing down leads. Tonight, they were close—too close—and it felt like the walls were closing in.
"You sure this is the place?" Jane asked, her voice low, scanning the warehouse for any sign of movement.
Maura was quiet for a moment, her fingers brushing against the edge of the leather gloves she wore, her sharp eyes darting back and forth. "This is where the fire started," she said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "Definitely."
"Yeah?" Jane murmured, glancing at her partner. "Let's just hope we're not too late."
They were about to make their move when a rustle in the shadows caught Jane's attention. She didn't even have time to react. A figure emerged, a flash of movement—and before she could process it, the sharp crack of a gunshot sliced through the night.
"Down!" Jane shouted, grabbing Maura's arm and pulling her into the cover of an alleyway.
Maura stumbled, but Jane's grip was firm, pulling her close to shield her from the danger. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she crouched beside Maura. She could feel the heat of Maura's body next to hers, could hear her shallow, rapid breathing. They were both hyper-aware of how close they were in that moment—too close.
Jane tried to steady herself, but the air seemed thick, suffocating, as though the world was closing in on her. A ringing pressure built up in her ears, and her breath began to catch in her chest. Her body tensed.
The arsonist was still out there, somewhere in the dark. The danger was real, and the weight of it was too much to bear. Her heart started to race even faster, her vision narrowing. The panic was coming again—unwelcome, suffocating.
Maura must have seen it happening before Jane even had the chance to recognize it herself. She was close now, her voice barely above a whisper as she moved toward Jane, placing her hands gently on her shoulders.
"Jane…" Maura said softly, but there was an urgency in her voice that was impossible to ignore. "Breathe with me. Just breathe."
But Jane couldn't. The panic had already taken hold, and all she could hear was the frantic thudding of her heart, drowning out everything else. She couldn't get enough air into her lungs, couldn't stop the overwhelming sense of dread from taking over.
Maura's fingers brushed Jane's face, and before she could process it, Maura leaned in, her lips pressing against Jane's in a gentle but insistent kiss.
It was different this time.
There was no hesitation, no clinical logic behind it—just the undeniable spark of connection between them, an electric tension that ran through every part of Jane's body. She froze, her breath hitching in her throat. For a moment, everything else seemed to fade away—the warehouse, the danger, even the panic. All that mattered was the warmth of Maura's lips on hers, the way her hand cupped Jane's face with such care, such intent.
Jane's hands trembled at her sides, and for a split second, she was able to focus entirely on Maura, on the kiss, on the way it made her feel more alive than anything else could. Slowly, her body responded, and she felt the panic begin to loosen its grip. The air didn't feel so tight anymore. The pressure in her chest lifted, and she could breathe again.
When Maura pulled back, they both gasped for air, their chests heaving, the world spinning just a little from the intensity of the moment.
"I… I didn't mean to—" Maura began, but Jane, still caught in the aftershock of the kiss, shook her head.
"It's okay," Jane breathed out, her heart still pounding, but in a different way now. The panic had receded, but something else lingered in its place—something almost impossible to describe. "You… you helped."
Maura's eyes searched Jane's face, looking for something—perhaps for confirmation, perhaps for an answer to what had just happened. She pulled away slightly, her expression soft but unsure. "I just wanted to help you calm down. I wasn't thinking. I—" She hesitated, then spoke more quietly. "I don't want to make things more complicated."
Jane looked at her, and the raw honesty in Maura's eyes sent a strange pang through her chest. But she knew that Maura didn't understand—couldn't understand—what was happening between them.
Maura seemed to be gathering herself, her hands nervously brushing her jacket, when Jane spoke, her voice quiet but firm.
"So what now?" Jane asked, her voice thick with emotion.
Maura let out a breath, a small but relieved smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I don't know."
The lights of the morgue flickered overhead as Jane pushed through the heavy door, her steps echoing in the sterile, quiet hall. She had just wrapped up the final details of the arrest, and after weeks of chasing down leads, everything had finally fallen into place. The arsonist was behind bars, his reign of terror over. But as Jane stood there, staring into the cold steel walls of the morgue, she couldn't shake the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.
She needed to see Maura.
The door to the morgue's main chamber was slightly ajar, and Jane pushed it open without knocking. Maura was bent over a body on the slab, her gloved hands carefully inspecting the victim's wounds, her concentration absolute.
"Maura," Jane called softly, though her voice still held the weight of the battle she'd just fought. "We got him. He's in custody."
Maura didn't look up at first, too absorbed in her work. Jane's heart beat faster as she watched her, taking in the delicate way Maura's hands moved, the soft hum of her attention as she pieced together yet another puzzle. There was always something mesmerizing about Maura, something that made Jane's pulse quicken without warning.
"I heard," Maura said absently, still not turning around. "I'm glad, Jane. It's about time."
Jane swallowed hard, stepping further into the room, her body suddenly tense with everything she hadn't said yet. The case was over, but there was something much bigger hanging in the air between them—something that had been building, growing, ever since that first kiss.
She didn't want to hold her breath anymore.
"Maura," Jane said again, more urgently this time. She moved closer, her boots clicking sharply against the tile floor. "I need to talk to you."
Finally, Maura glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly as she took in the look on Jane's face. "Is something wrong?"
Jane hesitated, her throat tight. She didn't know where to start, didn't know how to put into words the torrent of feelings she'd been holding in for so long. But she couldn't wait anymore. She was done with holding her breath.
"I don't know how to say this," Jane said, her voice quiet but fierce. "But I… I've been holding my breath, Maura. Ever since that first kiss—every time I'm near you, every time we're together, it feels like I can't breathe right. And it's not the panic attacks. It's not that. It's something else, something that I've been trying to ignore."
Maura stood up from the slab, her gloves snapping off with a soft sound, her eyes searching Jane's face. Her expression was unreadable for a moment, but Jane could feel the shift in the air—could feel Maura's attention, her concern, her unspoken curiosity.
"I don't understand," Maura said softly, though there was an edge of something else in her voice, something Jane couldn't quite name.
Jane closed the space between them, standing right in front of Maura now, her chest heaving with the weight of what she was about to say. Her fingers twitched at her sides, as if wanting to reach out, but she held back.
"I'm holding my breath because I'm scared, Maura," Jane confessed, her voice thick. "I'm scared of what it means to feel this way about you. I've been trying to ignore it, trying to pretend like I don't care, but the truth is—I can't stop thinking about you. I can't stop wanting you. And I'm done holding my breath about it."
Maura was silent, her gaze steady, but Jane could see the way her body tensed, the way her chest rose and fell with the same rapidity as Jane's. It was as if Maura had been holding her breath too.
"I don't want to be afraid anymore," Jane continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to hide behind the badge or the cases or the distance. I want you, Maura. I want to breathe freely with you."
The words hung in the air between them, raw and vulnerable, but they felt more real than anything Jane had ever said. Her heart raced, waiting for Maura's response, terrified of what might come next.
For a long moment, Maura didn't say anything. She simply looked at Jane, her lips parted slightly, her eyes searching, assessing, understanding in a way that only she could.
And then, Maura moved.
In a sudden, instinctive motion, Maura closed the distance between them, her hand reaching up to touch Jane's face, cupping her cheek with the same tenderness she had always shown. There was no hesitation in her touch, no doubt in the way she held Jane's gaze.
Without a word, Maura pulled Jane in, kissing her with a depth and urgency that took Jane's breath away. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It wasn't a hesitant one. It was full of everything they had been holding back for so long—every unspoken word, every feeling they had both buried deep inside.
Jane's hands found Maura's waist, pulling her closer, her heart thundering as the kiss deepened, as the world around them seemed to disappear. There was no case. No danger. No fear. There was only the two of them, the only truth that mattered in that moment.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Jane pressed her forehead against Maura's, her eyes closed as she tried to steady her racing pulse.
"I've wanted that for so long," Maura said softly, her voice husky with emotion.
Jane smiled, her breath still unsteady. "Me too."
Maura's eyes sparkled, her hands resting gently on Jane's shoulders. "I was afraid of what it might mean, of how it would change things between us. But I don't want to hold my breath anymore either."
Jane nodded, her heart light for the first time in what felt like forever. "Then let's not. Let's just… breathe."
Maura smiled, a smile that was full of relief, of hope, and of something deeper that neither of them had ever dared to say until now.
And when Jane kissed her again, it was without fear. It was without hesitation. It was everything they had both wanted, everything they had kept hidden for so long, finally coming to light.
Together, they were free.