"I'm in court all day today," Jane tells her at breakfast, eating bacon out of the pan with the tips of her fingers.
"Mm," Maura says, sliding a paring knife through a white peach with a smooth motion. "Would you like to have dinner later?"
Jane pulls a face. "Pizza with Pops and Frankie. Say a prayer for me, don't wait up."
Maura makes another cut, easy as any autopsy, and slides a slice into her mouth, sweet and cold. She saw a new wine bar from the car window the other day. "If you'd like."
/
"Have you experienced any complications around intimacy?" Melissa asks, and Maura considers the question.
"No," she says finally, "but I have not had sex since before the… incident."
"It's normal to to experience feelings of anxiety, flashbacks, other behaviour that would normally feel out of character."
"The last man I considered having intercourse with died," Maura muses absently, "I was arrested and incarcerated for his murder, briefly."
"I… see," Melissa says. "Intimacy is more than sex, Maura, it's emotional vulnerability."
"I see," Maura echoes.
/
Maura goes to a bar after her session and orders a single glass of wine. She plays her fingers around the stem of the glass and resolves to limit herself to just the one drink. A body slides up close to the bar and sighs, and Maura looks up. A woman in a soft looking blouse, tousled dark hair.
"Is it any good?" The woman asks, gesturing to the wine.
Maura takes a sip. "More than palatable," she says, and the woman smiles.
"I'm new in town," she says, gesturing for the bartender's attention. She extends Maura her hand. "New town, new job, new… me. Jamie."
Maura hesitates, chewing her lip. Emotional vulnerability. "Maura," she says, offering a smile. When they shake hands Jamie's is firm and easy. "Not exactly new." Maura slides the glass her way.
"Try it," she says, and Jamie does. Her lipstick leaves a little smear on the glass and she wipes at it with the edge of her sleeve.
"Let me buy you another?"
It's brazen and bold and Maura is taken aback for a moment. She feels like she's at the verge of something, on the edge of a knife. Jamie's biting her lip, not as smooth as she'd like to be, and it reminds Maura of someone, a little. Emotional vulnerability, she thinks. "I'd like that," she says, soft and inviting. When Jamie smiles it lights up her brown eyes.
/
Jane bangs into Maura's late, yawning, smelling like cheap beer. "Tommy showed and started throwing bottles," she grumbles. "Can't believe that boy is a father."
Maura puts down the cheese and cracker plate. "Are you alright?"
Jane flops on the couch and puts her shoes up on the table. "Huh? Oh yeah, it was happy bottle throwing, not the…" she wiggles her fingers, "Rizzoli kind."
Maura's lips quirk. "Rizzoli kind?" She crosses the room and puts the platter down on the table to sit next to Jane.
"Overly dramatic," Jane explains, snagging a snack, "destructive."
"Kind," Maura corrects, "loving."
Jane rolls her eyes. She spits out the cheese into her hand. "Don't you have any Kraft singles?"
Maura rolls her eyes back and stands, swatting at Jane's shoes. "Off," she orders, crossing into the kitchen to find the box of cheap cheese chips Jane thinks she's hidden well in the canned goods cupboard. "You know," she says as she tips a portion into a bowl, "Melissa thinks I need to practice emotional vulnerability."
She hears one thump, another, Jane letting her shoes drop against the floor. "If you think it'll help."
Maura thinks of Jamie smiling at her over the lip of a wine glass, their plans to get coffee tomorrow. "We'll see," she says, and lets Jane wipe cheese dust on her pants, flicking through the channels to find a cop show Jane likes to pretend to hate.
/
Jamie is late for coffee, her hair twisted up in an braid that's pretty and functional all at once. "Sorry," she says, flopping into the chair across Maura, "I wanted to change before I came."
"A difficult shift?" Maura asks. "I would have ordered for you but I don't know what you like."
"I like you," Jamie says, grinning, and Maura smiles despite herself. Jamie taps her fingers on the table. "Be right back," she promises.
Maura checks her phone while Jamie goes to the counter to order. burgers? Jane asks, and then a picture of a grease stained white bag too late!.
Be home in an hour Maura responds. She's sure that Jane has gotten her a side salad as well, probably with some horribly unhealthy mustard vinaigrette on the side.
"Am I interrupting?" Jamie slides back into her chair, fingers curled around a steaming paper cup.
Maura clicks her phone dark and lays it face down. "Not at all."
Jamie fidgets. "I uh, meant what I said earlier. New town, new job. I'd be happy just for a new friend." She takes a too hot gulp and grimaces, reaching for the sugar. "No pressure, is what I'm struggling to say."
Maura stretches a hand out and lays it on Jamie's nervous fingers. "No pressure," she agrees. When Jamie smiles Maura feels it in her chest, a hint of a spark.
/
"I've made a friend," Maura tells Melissa. "Not connected to… work, or Jane."
"Jane," Melissa picks out, knowing eyes. "How are you finding this friendship?"
Maura frowns down at her journal. "Sexuality is fluid," she says slowly, worrying at the leather binding with her nails. "And Jamie is… uncomplicated, for all we are virtually strangers."
"Sometimes new things show us what we should have known," Melissa says, more cryptic than she has ever been, and Maura opens her journal to discuss her progress.
/
Maura's phone buzzes on the stainless steel tray and she hums at Jane. "Check that for me?" When Jane looks affronted she raises one gloved hand, shows Jane the blood and gore staining her fingers.
"'Jay' wants to know if you're on for dinner tomorrow," Jane says. "Oooh, who is this 'Jay' we wonder?"
"I don't wonder," Maura points out, leaning in closer to the body pinned out in front of her. "I know who it is."
"You're going to break Kent's little heart," Jane says.
"Hardly." Maura steps back and snaps off her gloves, dropping them into a biohazard bin and crossing to wash her hands. "Your victim had a brain tumor, over the occipital lobe." She scrubs at her palms with harsh soap and the stiff bristled brush. "Too big to operate, no signs it was treated with radiation." She dries her hands and strips off the top layer of her scrubs.
"Why are you always getting naked down here," Jane complains, "this is why Kent has a crush on you."
Maura sighs. "I don't do this when Kent is here," she says, and holds out a hand for her phone.
Jane tilts it out of her reach. "Tell me more about Jay," she teases. Maura's stomach flips. She hesitates. Jane goes from teasing to cautious concern. "He's not another serial killer, is he?"
Maura snatches her phone away. "That was one time." She fiddles with her phone case. "It's new, and I find myself… protective."
Jane huffs. "You don't have to tell me, it's fine." Her face is stubborn, and it's clearly not fine.
Maura sighs. "Jane. You're the most important person in my life. Right now this relationship is casual, and-they don't know about all the-" she waves a hand. "When the time is right your impression of them will be very important to me."
Jane's eyes narrow faintly. "Them," she starts, but her phone rings and pulls her attention away.
/
Jamie's apartment is tiny and cluttered and she kicks a pile of clothes into the coat closet, blushing. "I should have cleaned up. Sorry."
Maura grew up in a pristine house and decorates her own in the taste her mother passed down to her. "I like it," she says, of the lumpy couch and mismatched photo frames, and she does. It reminds her of Jane, lived in and imperfect and complicated and so much homier than anything Maura could have wished for, sitting as a child on plastic covers watching kids jumping on the bed on television.
"I like you," Jamie says, grinning.
Maura smiles. "Is that your only line?" she asks idly, stepping out of her heels.
"I get flustered by pretty girls," Jamie admits, "especially ones as classy as you."
Maura is, and has been, easy with her own sexuality, accepting of what she finds attractive: dark hair, confidence, definition in the musculature. Finding it in women is a little new, but… "My therapist says I should try new experiences," she says.
Jamie quirks an eyebrow, sliding close. "Well if it's what the doctor orders…"
"I'm a doctor, actually," Maura says.
"Cool," Jamie says, and kisses her.
/
"I'm up to six hours a night," Maura says, "and the nightmares are jarring but less likely to keep me awake."
Melissa makes a note. "And your alcohol consumption?"
"No more than it was before," Maura says. She's limiting herself, and trying various fruits cut into filtered mineral water instead of a glass of wine before bed.
/
She wakes shaking, with a cut off shout, and can hear Jane's bare feet slap against the wooden floors before she falls into Maura's room. "Maur?" her voice is half a whisper half a shout, roughened by sleep.
"A dream," Maura says, running a hand through faintly sweaty hair and grasping for the glass of water she keeps on the nightstand. "I'm fine."
Jane flops face first on her mattress and groans. Maura drinks and nudges Jane with her foot, offering her the water. Jane grunts a negative, but rolls over to lie on her back. Maura helps her drag her mass of curls off her face, smiling affectionately. "Camped out on the couch again?"
"Frankie's sucks," Jane mumbles. "I need to go househunting."
"Mm," Maura says, trailing her nails along the edge of Jane's ear and along her scalp. Jane shivers and then sighs, relaxing, canting her head into Maura's touch. "Tomorrow thoughts," Maura says, flipping over to lie with her feet where her pillow is. She leans her cheek against Jane's shoulder and a snatch of dream hits her, crawling in the dark with blood on her tongue. She shivers violently.
Jane throws an arm over her hips. "Okay?" she mumbles.
Maura closes her eyes determinedly. "Yeah."
/
Maura texts Kent she's heading home and emails Melissa explaining what's happened and that she'd like a few days to rest. She plays with her phone for a moment, but she doesn't want to bother Jane, and she doesn't want to be coddled. The follow up appointment was brisk and professional and she likes her doctor, but it's frustrating to sit and wait, no matter what she tells Jane about letting what she can't control consume her.
Jamie rolls up in a four door sedan with peace sign bumpersticker. "You're lucky," she says, grinning, "My shift doesn't start for a few hours." She catches Maura's glance and grimaces. "A prank from my brother," she says, plucking at the edge of the sticker. "I'll find something to cover it up someday."
"Your hair's a mess," Maura says fondly, and Jamie fingercombs it roughly.
"Just woke up," she says. She steps close, careful slow, and touches around the cut on Maura's forehead. "Your head's a mess." More than you know, Maura thinks wryly.
"Drive me home?" she asks instead, and Jamie nods. She opens Maura's door for her with a wink and when she moves to walk around the car Maura catches her by the wrist and kisses her once, quick and soft.
Jamie's radio plays crackling classic rock and she hums along while she drives to Maura's house. "You can tell me what's going on," she says absently, "but you don't have to." Everything about Jamie is simple and Maura doesn't really understand why the easy glide of them makes her headache ratchet up.
"Brain damage," she says, flippant in a way that's unlike her, and Jamie snorts before realizing she's serious.
"Oh," she says, and they finish the drive in silence.
Jamie walks her to her door and scratches the back of her head. "Uh, I can come by after my shift?" she asks.
"That's not necessary," Maura says. "Dinner on Friday?"
Jamie smiles, slivery relief. "For sure." She kisses Maura again, against her front door, and when she pulls away to bounce down the steps Angela stands behind her, mouth open.
Maura freezes, one hand on her doorknob. "I brought soup," Angela says, holding up the tupperware. She turns to stare at Jamie driving away.
"That's very thoughtful," Maura says. Angela's eyes narrow, and then relax.
"You probably shouldn't be having sex with a concussion," she says, winking, and Maura flushes all the way down her chest.
/
"Why," Jane says, walking in Maura's backdoor like it's her own house, "does my mother keep calling me to say I've missed the train and then laugh nervously?" She tries to eat a piece of fish off the platter and Maura swats at her with the spatula. "It's a serious laugh," she says, "with a tinge of hysteria, I'm going to need you to be serious about it."
"Rizzolis are odd and complicated creatures," Maura says, turning off the stove. "Have you eaten?"
"No," Jane says, and opens the fridge for a beer. She seems pleased that the same amount are present than when she last checked, and Maura automatically makes her a plate, fish and spinach and brown rice. They sit on her couch and Jane takes a long draw of her beer. "Food," she says, slouching down, "beer. We're not that complicated."
"Are you staying tonight?" Maura asks. Jane shrugs. Maura frowns. "Then I'm going back to the station with you," she says, stealing Jane's beer for a fake sip, letting it just wet her lips.
"Hey!" Jane snatches the bottle back. "No alcohol for the brain damaged. And you need to sleep."
Maura shrugs. "So do you."
"Fine," Jane says after a moment. "But I drive you to work tomorrow and hand you off to Kent."
"Hand me off? I'm not a football."
Jane ignores her. "And we're getting donuts on the way."
/
Maura sits cross-legged on the floor of her office, eyes closed. "Meditating?" Jane asks.
Maura doesn't open her eyes. "I told Kent no disruptions."
She hears Jane's shoes drag on the floor, her weight settle into a chair. "Good thing he's afraid of me."
Silence drags for a moment, and then the unmistakable sound of something tumbling to the floor. Maura's eyes snap open. Jane looks at her, sheepish. "Oops?" She scoops a wooden figurine from the floor and shakes it. "It's fine."
Maura lies back to arch her spine and stretch. "That was a gift from my father."
"Is yoga helping the…" Jane waves a hand around her head.
"It's a memory exercise," Maura says absently, rolling smoothly into a full splits. Jane goggles at her a little and she smiles. "I'm very flexible," she says, rolling to her feet and shucking her yoga pants.
"Jesus Christ," Jane says, slapping a hand over her eyes, "just once I'd like to come to the morgue and not see you naked."
"Don't be a prude, Jane." Maura hops into pants, doing up the zipper one handed, and the little jump makes her sway.
"Maura?" Jane catches her around the waist.
"Dizziness is a perfectly normal symptom," Maura tells her, but doesn't fight when Jane eases her back to lean against the desk and does up the button for her.
"Uh," Kent says from the doorway, his mouth hanging open.
Jane doesn't pull away, the tips of two fingers still dipped in Maura's waistband. "What?"
"Test results," Kent stutters, gaping.
"Ooh," Jane steps away, crossing the room and snatching the folder from his hands. "Thanks." Kent moves to follow her and she shoves him back. "Maura's dizzy, don't leave her alone."
"Jane," Maura protests, but Jane's already gone.
/
Maura steps out of the bathroom after her shower, wrapped in a robe, wringing her hair out with a towel, and Jane is standing next to her bed, arms crossed. "What took you so long," she demands.
Maura blinks at her. "I wasn't aware there was a time limit."
"I thought you passed out and drowned in there," Jane grumbles. "There's a body in the river, want a ride?"
"I don't think they need me until the body's out of the river," Maura says, giggling at her own joke. Jane rolls her eyes but her lips quirk. "I'm about to get naked again," she says, "if it's going to upset you."
"Can you get naked without dead bodies nearby? Want me to lie down on the bed and think cold thoughts?"
"Only if the mood strikes you," Maura says, opening her closet.
/
"I can't believe we caught this case," Jane is grumbling, lurking to the side as Maura performs a preliminary examination. "It was obviously that idiot."
Maura looks to the side, where a man is crying as Korsak tries to interview him. "Perhaps they are trying to ease you back into normal casework."
"Perhaps I'm in the shithouse and this is my punishment," Jane says, which is probably closer to the truth. "You'd think they'd be happy I cleared an arson, a kidnapping, a shooting, assault, attempted murder, murder, multiple murders…"
Maura rolls the victim's head to the side. "I think they'd be happier if you'd captured Alice Sands alive," she muses.
"Everyone's a critic." Jane turns, shielding her eyes against the sun. "EMTs are here, we'll have to crack him at the hospital. Got a cause of death?"
"I'll need to run some tests," Maura says, "I'm not yet sure if the blunt force trauma occurred before she hit the water or after."
"If he pushed her it doesn't matter. Murder either way."
"It matters to me," Maura points out, standing.
"Maura," someone says before Jane can respond. They turn as one. Jamie comes up in an EMT uniform. "Hey."
"Jamie," Maura says, surprised. Jamie curls a hand around her wrist, smiling softly. Maura pulls away. "You're taking the body back?"
Jamie steps back and hides hurt, poorly. "Yeah. Drew the short stick."
Maura feels bad and steps forward, catching her hand. "We're still on for dinner tomorrow?"
Jamie's face softens. "Of course. Italian?"
Maura smiles. "I like Italian."
Jamie grins, sly. "I like you." Jane makes an audible choking noise. A paramedic sidles up, a woman with dark eyes and tan skin.
"Jamie? You ready?" It's Jamie's turn to step back, flushing.
"Yeah," she says, and Maura turns to walk back to the car.
"Jamie," Jane says, dogging her. "As in 'Jay'?"
"Yes," Maura says crisply, ducking under the crime scene tape.
"Wha-" Jane says, and makes several garbled noises in a row.
Maura stops walking and Jane doesn't, drawn short by jolting into Maura's shoulder. "Wha-" she says again. Her mouth is hanging open. Maura peers at her.
"Are you feeling alright, Jane?"
"You!" Jane says, pointing. Korsak calls her and she walks backwards towards him, still facing Maura. "We are not done with this conversation!"
"Did we start this conversation?" Maura asks. "I'll wait in the car," she amends when Jane looks like she might start choking again.
/
Jane knocks on the driver's side window and yanks her thumb backwards. Maura sighs and gets out. "Are you sure I shouldn't drive? You seem to be suffering an emotional imbalance."
"You are an emotional imbalance," Jane snaps, and slams the door shut when she gets in.
Maura slides into the passenger seat and does up her seatbelt. "That's not very mature of you."
Jane turns the engine over and then thumps her face on the steering wheel. "Arrghh."
Maura rubs her back. "You've had a very trying week," she says, sympathetic. "Do you want to go eat something deep fried cheap and greasy?"
"Yeah," Jane says, muffled. Then she sits up. "What the hell? You're gay now?"
Maura huffs. "That's very unenlightened of you, Jane."
Jane ignores her. "Is this what Ma's been trying to tell me? You told Ma before you told me?"
"I haven't told anyone," Maura says, removing her hand. "Sexuality," she begins, and Jane groans. "Sexuality," she repeats, louder, "is fluid, and-"
"Ugh," Jane says, "fine. You're dating chicks now. Please stop talking about your… fluids."
Maura smiles. "Lunch?"
"Yeah," Jane says, "he lawyered up anyway, but it's a lock. Witnesses are solid, we'll contact family and friends to get evidence of fighting."
/
Jane lingers in her house, slouched on her couch, drinking her way through two beers. "I do see the resemblance between you and your father," Maura muses, applying lipstick in the hall mirror.
Jane scoffs, standing. "Need me to zip you up?"
"Please," Maura says, turning as she slips into her heels. Jane's nails trail along her spine for a second, drawing the zipper up to her neck.
"Text me on the hour," Jane says, and hesitates.
"I've been out with her before," Maura says, rolling her eyes, "you've met her and you know where she works."
Jane kneels, sudden, and slips the slim straps through the buckles at Maura's shoes, fingers careful around her ankles. Maura's breath catches. "On the hour," Jane says, looking up at her, a loose hand curled around her heel. "Or I call SWAT."
"Okay," Maura says softly, her mouth dry.
/
"So that was Jane Rizzoli," Jamie says, sitting on the edge of the counter while Maura cooks in her tiny kitchen. "People talk about her."
Maura stirs carefully, extends the spoon. "Taste. What do they say?"
Jamie sips obediently. "More salt? Not much. Mostly good things."
"You eat too much salt," Maura says, "you and Jane." She pauses, frowning. "Jane is a good person," she says stiffly, "she is my best friend."
Something flickers on Jamie's face. "Right. Good things, I said, remember?"
Maura forces herself to take a breath. "Of course."
Jamie fiddles with the label on her beer. "You know my partner, Rafa?" Maura dimly remembers the woman from earlier at the river, nods. "I should know better," Jamie says, looking dejected and sighing, "chasing after straight girls, but…" she shrugs. "You should know, anyway."
Maura makes herself think it through. "I understand," she says. Jamie looks at her, apprehensive. "I do," she says, smiling. Something has eased in her chest, and she feels giddy. She kisses Jamie, soft until Jamie reciprocates, confusion in her face. "This doesn't have to be anything other than what it is."
Jamie smiles at her, slow and then quick and happy. "Good," she says, cheery again. "Should we eat? You should know that lesbians aren't supposed to enjoy cock."
Maura rolls her eyes. "It's coq and it's chicken. With wine. And I'm not a lesbian."
"Wine I can get behind," Jamie says, hopping off the counter. "I'll get your plate?"
"Please," Maura says, stepping away to find her purse. "I need to text Jane."
"Mmm," Jamie says, and it's tinged with something. Before Maura can put her finger on it, she's distracted by Jane, smiling fondly as Jane inquires if Jamie's treating her right and an offer to create a work emergency.
/
She slips in late, her hair tousled, yawning. Jane is asleep on her couch, her phone resting on her chest. Maura kicks her shoes away, too tired to neatly straighten them in her closet, and shakes Jane's shoulder gently. "I'm home," she whispers as Jane stirs. "You'll hurt your back if you stay there." Jane toddles down the hall, leaning on her shoulder, and collapses onto Maura's bed.
"How's your date," she slurs while Maura changes, hangs her dress.
"Good," Maura says, washing her face with a wetwipe. "You didn't have to wait up."
"I didn't. I'm asleep."
"Ah." Maura slides under the sheet and tugs the blanket at the foot of the bed over Jane's askewed limbs. "Goodnight Jane." Jane snores in response and Maura sighs, fond, closing her eyes.
/
Jamie breaks up with her on a Tuesday. "It's," she stammers over chicken and pasta, "I hope you're not-"
"I'll miss you," Maura says, thinking it through. "I would like to remain friends."
Jamie looks relieved. "I would like that also."
"Because you like me," Maura says, and knows it was a good joke when Jamie grins.
"I'm trying to make a go of it at my partner," she says, cheerful again. "You should too."
"Jane isn't interested in girls," Maura says, and then backtracks, "I'm not interested in Jane."
"Sure," Jamie says, "whatever you say."
Maura slides her foot up Jamie's calf, under the table. "Are you amenable to one last round of sexual intercourse before we 'call it quits'?"
After, Jamie helps Maura back into her dress and Maura fixes her hair in the bathroom mirror. "I'm not wrong," Jamie says, leaning against the wall. "She's into you. You're into her. Go for it."
Maura kisses her on the cheek. "Call me for coffee sometime."
/
"She broke up with you two days before your surgery?" Jane stands and reaches for her blazer. "We're going to have words."
"Jane," Maura says, laughing a little, "what words would have to exchange with each other?"
"Well hers will be mostly 'ow' and 'stop it, please'."
"My knight in shining armor," Maura says dryly. "How about you buy me dinner instead? I can't eat before my surgery, and I'm craving something decadent. Maybe escargot."
"Oh gross, Maura, that's snails. Even I know that's snails." But Jane takes her to a fancy French place anyway, muttering under her breath while she squints at the menu. "You're really okay with it?"
"Yes Jane. No need to defend my honor."
"Like you have any. Painting the town red with your new girlfriend. Harlot." Maura laughs, the last clench of sorrow and loss in her chest easing.
"We had spoken beforehand. It was never anything more than a casual meeting of acquaintances. A friendship at best."
Jane twists her face up. "That's the least sexy description of anything I've ever heard. Eat your snails."
"They're very good." Maura offers Jane her fork. "It's essentially butter and salt. You'll like it."
"I'll do a lot of things for you, Maura Isles, but if you don't get that fork away from me I'll shoot you."
/
Jane isn't much of a cuddler but the night before the surgery Maura wakes from the last vestiges of an unsettling dream, her alarm clock blinking three in the morning in red lines, and Jane's arm is across her hips, holding her tightly. She can feel Jane's breath on the back of her neck. Her breathing isn't quite right-Maura knows what her REM cycle sounds like.
"Jane?"
"Go to sleep," Jane says quietly. "You have surgery tomorrow."
"Are you upset I didn't tell you about Jamie right away?"
"What? No. I'm over that."
"What's keeping you up, then?"
Jane huffs out an impatient exhale. "I worry about you, okay? Sue me." She moves to pull away and Maura grabs her arm,. She presses a soft kiss to the inside of Jane's wrist and tucks her arm back against her waist.
"I'm very thankful for you."
Jane's breath hitches. "Don't do that. You said this is a minor procedure."
"Of course. There is nothing to worry about."
"You'll be fine," Jane says, like she's trying to convince herself. She scoots her body closer, solid and warm and safe.
Maura rolls over, their faces abruptly close. Jane's eyes go a little cross-eyed, looking at her. "You're important to me," Maura says, and presses a soft, closed mouth kiss to Jane's lips. Her belly jumps; her chest sparks. Jane gapes at her, shocked. "We'll talk after the surgery," Maura says firmly, and closes her eyes, her head tucked under Jane's chin.
Jane sputters, then grumbles, then gathers Maura closer. She feels lips press against her forehead. Maura smiles. She sleeps better than she has in years.
AN: I'm a little burned out on this fandom. It's a long story, but I've moved on. This is what I had written so far, and since I've realized I'm not coming back to it, I wanted to post what there is in case anyone was still hoping for more. Thanks for reading!