DISCLAIMER: Rizzoli and Isles are owned by Tess Gerritsen and Janet Tamaro and TNT. I'm altering their realities for fun, not profit, as I own nothing and have the credit report to prove it. I Don't Want Anything to Change is copyright Maia Sharp, Liz Rose, and Stephanie Chapman, and is also used without permission or profit. I love Bonnie Raitt, and she and Lyle Lovett did this together on Crossroads and it's been stuck in my filter.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Karaoke
By sailor80
Part 4
Two hours later, Maura was still awake. Jane's head was on her shoulder, Jane's leg over Maura's. One arm was draped over Maura, and Jane's fingers occasionally twitched against her hip. Jane's other hand held some of Maura's hair.
In the dim light, Jane was all angles and planes, except for her hair. It felt wonderful to hold her again. Jane was deeply asleep, her breathing slow and regular, her eyelids twitching in REM sleep. There were too many nights that Maura feared this would never happen again, that she would have to leave Boston because there was no way she could see Jane without wanting her, or hear her without automatically looking her way, or be close without touching her.
They had so much to work through. Maura wasn't even sure where they should begin. Feelings were so much harder to understand than bodies. Everything on and in a corpse was definitively quantifiable. Even the unseen could be located and identified via lab tests that answered questions from 'how drunk was the idiot who killed himself and two friends by driving into a tree at a high rate of speed' to 'why is the victim blue?'
Unfortunately, there were no lab tests that could answer the questions they struggled with. All Maura knew for certain was that at her angriest with Jane, she wished her no ill; in the time since that night, she was confused, bereft, and uncertain. Jane mumbled something, and Maura murmured that it was all right.
She would begin searching for a therapist tomorrow. Maura was amazed that Jane agreed to go, and her agreement answered a fundamental question for Maura. Jane wanted this relationship, wanted her, and was willing to put in the work to make it happen.
Maura wanted things to change, too. She was tired of being angry with Jane. Maura couldn't help it; it bubbled up at seemingly random times. Like today, after hours of it being like it used to, when Jane asked her to dinner, or the spat over the wine bottle. Even when they were alone together, the tension was thick with things they both wanted to say but didn't.
If she closed her eyes, things could be perfect again for a while, Maura decided, and that was what she did.
Maura woke alone, but smelled coffee. She put on her robe and went to the kitchen. A mug sat by the coffee maker, a note under it. Jane went out to pick up something for breakfast, since all she had was spoiled milk and stale Cheerios, although the cream was still ok.
Maura was dressed when Jane returned with bagels and cream cheese. She left them in the kitchen with Maura and went to shower and dress for the day, and returned shortly. When she got back, Maura had coffee waiting and a bagel in the toaster, which she started when Jane came into the kitchen.
"Thanks," Jane said, and picked up her coffee.
"You're welcome. Thanks for getting breakfast."
She nodded back and leaned against the counter by the toaster.
"We have yoga tonight."
"I know."
"Would you like to have dinner before?"
"Sure."
"There's a new Indian place on the way."
"Sounds good." Jane's bagel popped up, and she put it on the plate Maura left there for her and moved to the table with her coffee. "Thanks for staying."
"You're welcome." She felt like an adolescent again, more gawky and uncertain than now. They didn't used to be like this. "Do you want to ride with me?"
"Yeah. I just need to get my stuff together." Jane started to get up from the table.
Maura stopped her. "There's no rush."
"Don't we have to go by your place?"
"Yes, but we have plenty of time."
"All right." Jane sat down again and took another bite of her bagel. They were still tense this morning, though less than last night. When she woke early, getting breakfast was an excuse to leave Maura rather than watching her sleep or kissing her awake. She was tired of always saying or doing the wrong thing and having to battle her instinctive reaction to say fuck it and jet.
She wanted them to get back to being comfortable with each other, instead of angry and guilty, or guilty and hurt, or hurt all around. She was tired of not sleeping and tired of giving in, and every time she started to get angry with Maura, she saw her terrified face blocking out the sky.
Everyone around them felt it, too, and verbally prodded Jane to apologize to Maura, as if what was going on between them was completely her fault. She glanced at Maura, checking messages on her phone, and away before Maura noticed.
It was a regular workday, except that Jane and Frost were out, so Maura ate alone at her desk. A little after 4 p.m., Jane appeared in the autopsy suite. She didn't say anything, just went into Maura's office and sat at the small table Maura surrendered to Jane's cold case files and opened the newest one.
"Is everything all right?" Maura asked.
"Uh huh," Jane answered distractedly as she went through the file again from the beginning.
Maura couldn't get a clear look at her face and accepted Jane at her word, despite her doubts. She returned to her own paperwork, reviewing report after report and approving or returning them.
Promptly at 5 p.m., Maura shut down her computer. Jane closed the file and returned it to its place, then stood and stretched.
Over dinner, Maura told Jane about the therapist she selected. Their first appointment was in a week; there was a questionnaire she wanted both of them to complete and return before.
After yoga, Maura took Jane home and left her with the questionnaire. Jane got a beer and leaned on the kitchen counter while she looked at it. She didn't want to think about the questions, much less answer them, but she knew that as soon as Maura was comfortable at home, she would be working on it.
She got another beer and a pen and began. Name, address, telephones, e-mail, gender, race, age, education, occupation. Medical history. Social history. What she expected to get out of therapy, and that question, the last, stopped her. Jane needed to think about how to express what she wanted.
Miles away, Maura was in the same situation. She didn't know what to expect from the experience, and wrote down what she hoped for: "Improved communication with my partner."
After finishing her second beer, Jane wrote, "I want us to be able to talk freely again." She decided against having a third beer, and went to bed. She tried to get comfortable and couldn't until she buried her face in the pillow Maura used the night before.
In the morning, she took coffee and the completed papers to the morgue. Maura came in a few minutes after she arrived, and smiled brightly at Jane. "Good morning. I see great minds think alike. I left your coffee on your desk."
"Well, we'll both be awake."
"Did you complete the questionnaire?"
In response, Jane held it out for her to take. Maura took a plain manila folder from her bag and gave it to Jane. They were quiet for several minutes as they read the other's answers. Maura finished first, but didn't look at Jane until Jane handed the pages back.
"We want the same thing," Maura said nervously.
"That's good, right?"
Maura nodded.
"Good." Jane stood up. "I gotta get to work."
"Can we have lunch?"
"As long as it doesn't involve anything from the dead fridge," Jane answered over her shoulder.
They didn't have lunch because there was a shooting in an office building, and missed dinner for the same reason. It was nearly 10 p.m. before Jane left the office. She was glad to see that Maura's car was gone and debated going to her house, but decided against it. She was hungry and tired, and wanted to wind down in front of the television for a while.
When she opened the refrigerator, it was obvious her mother had been there. Annoying as it was, it meant there was a big bowl of pasta with meat sauce. She filled a bowl, put it in the microwave, and put the big bowl back in the refrigerator.
She took her spaghetti and a soda to the couch, and turned on ESPN. She was about to put the first forkful in her mouth when Maura's ring tone came from her hip. "What's up?"
"Where are you?"
"On my couch, eatin' dinner."
"It's nearly eleven."
"I know. I'm hungry. We were busy with that mess downtown."
"But you're all right?"
"Yeah. No bumps, bruises, scratches or scrapes. Hey, you can't trade him, moron!" she yelled at the set. "Sorry," she added to Maura.
"I'll let you go."
"You don't have to."
"You must be tired."
"Yeah. I'm just tryin' to get settled down a little."
"If you can't sleep, you can call me. Or just come over."
"Ok. Thanks."
"I'll see you in the morning."
"I'll get coffee," Jane volunteered.
"Thank you. Good night."
"'Night, Maura." She ended the call and leaned deeper into her couch. Dinner and TV couldn't keep her from thinking about Maura, or from falling asleep.
The sound of a key turning in one of her locks woke Jane. She stood up, drew her weapon and pointed it at the door. She went to check through the peephole, and saw Maura.
Jane returned her weapon to her holster, undid the last lock, and opened the door. "Hi."
Maura startled. "Uh, hi."
"C'mon in." Jane stepped back and opened the door completely.
Maura entered, and Jane closed the door. Maura looked at her. "Have you been to bed?"
"Technically, no. I was crashed on the couch."
"That always gives you a stiff neck."
"Is everything ok?"
"I couldn't sleep," Maura admitted.
Jane covered a yawn with one hand and turned off the lights with the other, then pointed toward her bed.
While Maura got settled, Jane removed her badge and gun, and emptied her pockets. She sat on the bed and pulled off her boots, then laid down. Seconds later, Maura slid next to her. "I missed you today."
"Me too." Jane slid her arm under Maura and pulled her closer.
A few minutes later, they were both asleep, and stayed that way until Jane's alarm went off.
The bane of every government employee's existence, paperwork, bogged down the homicide unit on Friday. There were mounds of it to generate after yesterday's incident, as well as the usual forms for other cases. By lunchtime, Jane was sick of it, and she was glad to see Maura.
"Lunch?" Maura asked.
Korsak and Frost, as well as Jane, jumped up.
"Pizza," Korak suggested.
"Sandwiches," Frost countered.
"You two fight it out," Jane told them, and pushed Maura through the double doors before they could respond.
They walked three blocks to a café that Maura particularly liked and found a table. As far as Jane knew, none of her co-workers knew it existed. Maura had salad; Jane had soup and a sandwich, and the silence between them was comfortable for a change.
After lunch, they returned to their offices. Another two hours of paperwork was all Jane could stand without a break and she knew just the thing. After a brief walk, she returned to the bullpen and dropped Italian ice on Korsak's and Frost's desks, and headed downstairs with the rest.
"Cherry or lemon?" she asked Maura.
"Cherry," Maura decided, and Jane entered her office and handed her the cup. She sat at the worktable, and Maura turned in her chair to face her. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Any particular reason for this?"
"I'm sick of paperwork."
"It has been quiet around here today."
"Everybody's tryin' to clear up that mess from yesterday."
"Fortunately, only one autopsy was required."
"Yeah, the shooter's. Didja find anything?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary, but the lab results aren't back yet."
"Great," Jane sighed. "Another garden variety whack job." She took a big spoonful of the lemon ice. "My grandma's is better."
"I'd love to meet her."
"You will. It's almost time for her annual visit." Jane snickered. "I love it. Nonna keeps Ma so tied up she doesn't have time to mess with me or Frankie for two weeks after she leaves."
"Whose mother is she?"
"Ma's. Pop's is dead, but my Pop-Pop is still alive. He moved to Florida a couple years ago, so we see him in the fall."
"Is your maternal grandfather alive?"
"No. Are your grandparents alive?"
"Not as far as I know. My adoptive parents' parents are deceased, and I haven't had a way to find my biological grandparents until recently. Frankly, I'm torn."
"Understandable. But if you want to find them, we will."
"Thank you."
They finished the treats in silence. Jane threw her trash into the can and looked at the clock. "I've had enough for one day. I'll be at the Robber."
"I'll come with you."
While Maura gathered her things, Jane called Frost. "We'll be at the Robber when you guys knock off," she told him, and hung up.
Because they were earlier than usual, their table was waiting. Jane got the first round, and when she was seated next to Maura, raised her bottle. "Thank god it's Friday," she said.
Maura tapped her glass, and they both drank.