A/N: I don't own anything. This is a small one (possible two) shot that I wanted to get out of my head so that I can finish 211 Elliott. Somewhat of a song fic. Hope you like it.
"Ma, come on… I said leave it. Why can't you just, for once in your life, listen to me?"
"Because I am your mother and I am worried… look at you…"
Angela throws her hands in the air dramatically before falling to the sofa next to her daughter.
"Well don't…." Jane interrupts herself with a simultaneous sideways glance, pulling her foot from underneath Angela, "…don't. I'm fine. I'd be even more… finer… if you would just go home for the night. Ok?"
"'More finer'… listen to you… what would Maura tell you about talking like that?" Jane closes her eyes. A slow grimace marring the features of her face. "Oh honey… I'm sorry. Now isn't the time. I know. I was just trying to lighten the mood a bit. You say whatever you want. Bad grammar and all. Just say… something." Jane shakes her head, eyes still closed. Her chin quivers and Angela wraps her arms around her oldest. "Come on, sweetheart, I'm sorry to correct you. I know you hate it." Jane shakes her head softly. "Don't be mad at me, sweetheart. I didn't mean to make you cry."
"It's not that, Ma."
"It's not what?"
Jane pulls back and slides her feet off of the couch, resting her elbows on her knees. "It's not you… fixing my grammar… or whatever."
Angela scoots closer, reenergized by the pregnant words. "Well what is it, baby?"
Nothing.
"Is it work? Was there a bad case? Is it Charles? Is it Hoyt?" Angela's voice drops an octave. "Jane is it Hoyt? Is he out? Did he threaten you? Did he threaten Maura?"
And there it was again. Her daugthter's face. The same pained reaction as before. Angela pauses for a beat.
"…It's Maura. Are you two fighting dear? Is that what has you so upset?" Jane tenses. "Oh you two will make up, dear. Just go talk to her. Tell her you are sorry. She is your best friend." Jane stands.
"Best friends…" she mocks, "we aren't 7, Ma. We don't have BFF bracelets and have favorite boy bands. She is engaged. He is her 'best friend' now." She exaggerates air quotes to mark her disgust then crosses her arms over her chest. "We're not best friends."
"Oh, come on. You two are best friends. And getting married changes things a little but I still have a best friend! You may not spend as much time together, especially if they have a baby…" Jane reflexively hunches her shoulders and clutches her abdomen. The air leaves her lungs. "You don't just stop loving someone because things change, honey." That word swells her throat. It stings her eyes. She grits her teeth.
"Ma… leave it."
"Sweetie, you two will work it out. You are best…"
"STOP! STOP." Angela recoils as though she were injured. Her eyes bore into her daughter. But Jane's never look up. "We will NOT be best friends, Ma, because we never were. We were never… she was never… my best friend." Jane sits. Angela mirrors her. Jane drops her head to her hands.
"I don't understand what you are saying, Jane."
She takes a deep breath. "Julie was my best friend. Nicky was my best friend. Denise was my best friend. We were close for a few years and grew apart. I loved them all in my own way. We were best friends. Maura is… she isn't like that. She's… more."
The silence does more to nudge her forward than any prompt Angela could give. Jane smiles.
"Do you remember in 3rd grade when I drew a picture of what I wanted my family to be when I grew up?" She doesn't know if Angela responds. It doesn't matter. "He had blue eyes. Brown hair. He was tall. Much taller than me. He had these massive arms that I thought would be tough and protective. And lift me like Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing." She suppresses a small laugh. "He was a fireman. I drew us two little boys. No girls. Because I liked playing ball and getting dirty. And I didn't want a daughter who wanted to wear high heels and dance. All that in third grade. And I still keep that image with me. That image that I drew when I was 8 years old. I keep it with me in my head. The perfect life. The perfect family." She raises her head and meets her mother's eyes. Tears threaten the edges and her mother's form blurs.
"I've always liked blue eyes. Hers are hazel. I like brown hair. Hers is blonde. 5 foot 3 isn't tall. She isn't the person I ever pictured. In all of those paint by number dreams that I had of my future, she isn't the person I ever pictured. So imagine my surprise when the image of my perfect life, the man in my perfect life, one day his eyes weren't so blue anymore. And his hair was a little lighter. And he was a little shorter. And one day, one day he wasn't like I remembered him at all. He was so much more than I deserved. He was witty and smart. Funny even, when you get to know him. He was a doctor. He was into theatre and art and history. When I thought of him I saw the person I was meant for. The person I was supposed to love. And eventually I stopped seeing him. It was only her. It was always her. She is nothing like what I always wanted. She's more." Jane's voice trails off, she is unsure of herself. Self-conscious.
"I've spent the better part of five years trying to critique her, compare her, de-value her. I've come up with every reason why I should not love her like I do. But it doesn't change it. It doesn't lessen it. It doesn't even sway it. I think it makes it stronger. More resilient. More real and terrifying. I got lost in her."
"You never told her?" Jane startles. Their eyes meet. Jane shakes her head. "Why?"
"I… I guess I thought I would scare her away."
"So you're…" Angela pauses. Jane holds her breath. "in love? With Maura?"
She nods slowly.
"Jane Clementine Rizzoli!" Angela is off of the sofa and beginning to pace. Her arms flail wildly. Her voice is loud. "Ya have kids, ya know, and you love those little morons more than anything and all you ever want is for them to be happy and successful and safe. And ya have a daughter and you dress her in dresses and you give her brothers to protect her. And ya know what she does? She jumps in front of bullets for a living!" She stops and turns to Jane, eyes wide. "Bullets!" The pacing continues. "And she never has time to be in love or give ya grandbabies but she is happy so its still ok! Then, praise the Lord, she falls in love…with an ENGAGED woman!" She turns to Jane again, wide eyed. She raises her arms out and drops them to her sides dramatically. "I swear to Jesus, Jane, you will be the death of me. You know the woman for 5 years and you wait to fall in love until she gets engaged! I'm sure that's a coincidence, huh? You never did like sharing your toys, Jane. This is just like the Play doh fiasco of '81. Never in my lilfe…."
"Ma…"
"Never have I wanted to crack someone a good one on the back o' the head more, except for your father, he was as difficult to understand as you…"
"Ma…"
"Oh your father… "she narrows her eyes, "I blame him for this. Went out of his way to give me heart attacks and you… following right in his…"
"MA!."
Angela turns and crosses her arms over her chest.
"First off… wow. Second, YOU'RE NOT HELPING!" Jane collapses into the chair and draws her knees to her chest. Angela takes an audible breath. She kneels in front of her daughter.
"Sweetheart, what can I do?" Jane shrugs, tears threatening again to fall. "You have two options. One, you forget about it. You send her off with him to be happy and you find a way to go on. Or two, you tell her."
"I can't do that. It'll ruin everything."
"It's already ruined, Jane. Staying close to her after she marries him will destroy you. We both know that."
"She will resent me. She is finally happy."
Angela took Jane's hands between her own. "Baby, I can't promise you that everything will be ok with you and Maura. I can't. I don't know what she will say or do and I don't know how this will turn out. But regardless, you have to be honest. Maura adores you, Jane. The way she looks at you and protects you. The way she respects you. She knows you wouldn't hurt her on purpose. She knows you better than anyone. She would never resent you."
"I'm gonna lose her, Ma." Jane's voice cracks. Angela pulls her into her arms.
"Or you might find everything you've ever wanted."