Fleeing

Maura straightened her posture almost imperceptibly, her shoulders squaring, her chin
raising ever so slightly.

She was adorning herself with her social status, her rigid upbringing, sliding into it like a
suit of armor, a Chanel shrug.

It wouldn't, couldn't protect her from this. But it was better than nothing.

Maura was unprepared for this war, ill-equipped for this battle. She was hopeless in this
fight, but she marched into the theatre of war with her head held high.

The room was decorated in muted taupes and soft whites, an attempt, Maura assumed,
to make it seem less institutional. The seven-member panel sat facing her when she
entered, two feet above the rest of the room and filling her entire field of vision.

Her attorney, Steven, sat at the table in the center of the room, and she joined him
there. A stenographer sat in the corner, fingers poised idly at the machine.

Maura wore a navy sheath dress and navy pumps. Her hair was pulled back in a tight
bun and her grey pearl earrings drew the eye to the matching necklace around her
throat. She looked professional but undeniably feminine.

It had been 96 six days since Maura had seen Jane, spoke to her, worked with her.

Maura had been on a mandatory leave of absence pending the decision of whether or
not to revoke her medical license. The seven people in front of her held her entire life,
her entire future, in their hands.

Three women and four men, all in their sixties. All doctors, things like neurosurgery and
obstetrics and oncology. Never stepped foot outside the hospital, or worked in a
desperate, ill-equipped environment.

How on earth could they understand the position she'd been put in? How the hell could
they understand the choice she'd been forced to make?

If she herself didn't quite understand, if Jane didn't, if the people at the precinct didn't
understand- how the hell would these seven get it?

"Ms. Isles," the woman left of center addressed her. Not Dr. Isles. Not right now, and
maybe never again.

"Yes," Maura responded, proud of the even neutrality in her voice.

"How are you today?" the woman asked, and Maura thought it a tactless question. How
was she supposed to be, given the circumstances?

"I'm well," she replied. "And yourself?"

"I'm fine, thank you," the woman nodded. "Shall we begin?"

Maura didn't respond but a salt-and-pepper haired man glanced up at her and saved her
from attempting to.

"You've been on suspension for 90 days," he said. "Is that correct?"

"It is," Maura confirmed.

"And what have you been doing with that time?" he asked.

"I've been working at the Tufts Hospital for Children," Maura replied. "Running their
charitable wing. I've also been taking a number of continuing education classes in
medicine, including ethics."

Maura felt the words coming out, knew it was her voice, but she couldn't reconcile it
with the empty detachment she felt at the moment.

"Dr. Isles," Maura recognized Steven speaking. "Is completely committed to the ethical,
moral, and safe practice of medicine. She has taken the time during her suspension to
refresh her skills and knowledge and has also done a great deal for the hospital and the
community."

Steven and Maura had met when she was in medical school. They were friends, and
while they had never been particularly close, Maura had come to trust and care for him.
He was ten years older than Maura, dignified, intelligent, considerate and a damn good
lawyer.

"And do you believe that if your license was reinstated," a different man spoke, "you
would make the same choices now?"

They weren't choices, Maura wanted to say. She didn't choose- she acted.

And yes, she would do the same thing again. Every time.

No amount of continuing education or threat to her livelihood, to her life, would make
her act differently. Not even now, with the weight of the consequences nearly crushing
her.

Not Jane's silence, not her parent's shame, not her total isolation.

She had been practicing this for weeks, this lie. She'd stand in front of the mirror for
hours, knowing this question would be asked.

Would she make the same choice?

"No sir," she spoke clearly, her tone even. Her back was straight. She didn't flinch,
fidget, or shift. "I would not make those same decisions again."

Steven relaxed almost imperceptibly beside her. In their first few meetings, she'd been
adamant about telling the truth. He'd tried, almost desperately, to convince her that this
was one of the rare times when lying was absolutely necessary.

It was only after Jane refused to talk to her that Maura acquiesced.

Maura had never been able to lie successfully before meeting Jane. Now the lie rolled
smoothly off her tongue. There was a painful irony about it, about the way she learned
to lie to protect herself from Jane.

She had been terrified of telling Jane she was in love with her. At first, she simply
demurred, avoided. Practiced small falsehoods, stretching the truth.

Now she could lie effortlessly, at least when it came to Jane.

She could lie effortlessly to Jane.

And Jane, who still thought that Maura couldn't lie, believed her.

The panel seemed satisfied. They asked half a dozen additional questions, scribbled
things on their files, and finally the first woman addressed her again.

"While we do not condone your actions," she had a note of distinct disapproval in her
voice, but it cleared. "We understand that you were under great duress. Given your
work these past few months and your commitment to excellence, we feel confident in
renewing your license. Congratulations, Dr. Isles."

Maura felt nothing.

She was vaguely aware of Steven speaking, and when he stood she did as well.

"Thank you," she managed to find her voice. Steven ushered her out of the room with a
gentle hand on her elbow, and she was thankful for the guidance and support.

Outside, in the harsh afternoon sunlight, Maura squinted against the glare, absently
wondering where she had forgotten her sunglasses.

"Maura," Steven's voice broke her trance. "Are you going to be ok?"

Maura stared off down the busy Boston street with unseeing eyes.

"I don't think I really have a choice," she replied.

"Are you going back to work today?" Steven sounded worried.

"No," Maura shook her head. "Not today." There was a note of finality in her voice.

"But," Steven's brow furrowed. "You are going back, right?"

Maura met his eyes. The surprise on his face was clear.

In the interest of full disclosure, Maura had told him everything. Told him about that
cold, damp day. About the weeks preceding. About her work, her life. About Jane.

Jane.

Jane who wanted to protect Maura. Jane who believed Maura when the M.E. told her, I
love you Jane, but I'm not in love with you.

Jane who hadn't spoken to her in months.

Maura glanced down at her watch.

Make that 97 days.

97 days without seeing the woman Maura had thought would always be in her life. Days
with out seeing the friend she thought she would see every day for the rest of her life.
Days without seeing the woman she thought she couldn't live without.

And she was right.

She was alive, but she wasn't living.

She wasn't sure she knew how anymore.

She felt like she hadn't taken a full breath in weeks, months.

"Maura," Steven prompted. "You're going back, right?"

Maura looked around again at the bustling city around herself. Not so long ago, it felt
like home. The house she owned, the precinct, the cafe she loved, the Dirty Robber...
Those things used to feel warm and safe and comforting. They made her think of Boston
as home, made her plan to stay forever.

But in retrospect, it wasn't the places that made her feel that way.

It was Jane.

"No, Steven," she met his eyes, a harsh determination in her gaze, a plan forming in
her mind. "I will not be returning to my former position, if they'd even have me at this
point."

"You know they would," he offered, but Maura could sense his resignation.

"My parents have a flat in Paris," Maura told him. "I was always happy there as a young
girl. Maybe I can be again someday."

"Maura," Steven began, but he knew trying to dissuade her was useless.

"Thank you for all your hard work," Maura put a soft hand on his arm. "For everything.
Your support has been instrumental."

"You're welcome," he covered Maura's hand with his own. "Please call me when you get
settled. It's been years since I've been in Paris."

Maura attempted a small smile and nodded.

"Goodbye Steven," she said.

"See you later," his lips tilted up. Impulsively he kissed Maura on the cheek, lingering
for a moment. "Take care kid."

Maura hailed a cab, sliding inside and rattling off her address. In the foyer of her house,
she took a long, sorrowful look around, realizing again just how much it felt foreign and
empty now.

None of the comfort she'd grown accustomed to seemed present.

The light on the answering machine was blinking and she furrowed her brow. No one
called her on her home phone.

"Maura?" Angela's voice greeted her. "Sweetie we need to talk. I tried your cell and you
didn't answer. Please talk to me. I know your review was today. I'm worried about you."

Maura collapsed onto the couch, her chest tight.

Angela had been calling every day since Maura was suspended- 90 phone calls
unanswered, most of them unreturned. Maura didn't deserve to intrude on Jane's life, to
be a part of her family, after lying about loving her.

Angela had moved out of the guest-house without commenting, and Maura didn't know
how to tell her to stay. Maura had been a horrible friend to Jane, and Angela should
hate her as much as Jane did.

But the Rizzoli women were nothing if not stubborn.

Picking up the phone, Maura dialed Angela's number.

"Maura sweetie," Angela greeted. "I'm so glad you called. I've been so worried about
you. How was your meeting?"

Maura wondered idly how Angela knew but was too drained to care.

"It went well," Maura replied. "I've had my license restored."

"That's wonderful," Angela enthused. "It will be so wonderful to have you back at work.
The doctor filling in for you is not nearly as smart as you, and very boring, and his
cologne-"

Maura swallowed harshly.

"I won't be returning," she said softly.

There was a pregnant pause and Maura felt tears prick her eyes.

"Did they not offer you your job back?" Angela sputtered, astonished and outraged.
"Those baboons wouldn't know a good-"

"No, Angela," Maura interrupted softly. "I didn't ask. I just can't go back. After what
happened, the way everyone looks at me now..."

Maura allowed her tears to fall in the diffuse light of her living room, curtains closed
against the world.

"Maura," Angela's affectionate tone made Maura whimper. "I don't know what happened
between you and Jane. I can't pretend to understand the things you two have been
through together. But I know Janie, and I know you, and you don't just let love like this
slip away."

"Jane doesn't lo-"

Angela cut her off before the thought could fully form.

"You're not fooling anyone," she suggested gently. "I'm not sure what's holding you
back, whether it's fear or shame or something else... I've never seen love like Jane's
got for you. You can run sweetie, but you'll never get away from it."

"I'm not ashamed," Maura responded softly, but without hesitation or doubt. She wasn't
ashamed of Jane, or of loving her. She'd wasted enough years worrying about what
other people thought- that wouldn't stop her from loving Jane.
"I'm glad to hear that," Angela replied. "It would be stupid to throw happiness away
because of what other people might think."

"I'm going to Paris," Maura blurted. "Indefinitely."

Angela was silent for an eternity.

"Angela?" Maura finally prompted.

"I'm disappointed in you," Angela's voice sounded more sad than anything else. "I
expected better from you."

"Jane doesn't want to even speak to me," Maura cried. "I haven't seen her in three
months! I have no reason to stay in Boston."

"No reason?" Angela asked, hurt in her tone. "What about your friends? Me and Frankie
and Frost and Korsak... We're still here."

And they had been.

All of them had reached out, tried to help or comfort or support her in myriad ways. But
she had withdrawn into herself, so heartbroken that being around people who reminded
her of Jane was enough to bring her to tears.

"I know," Maura was apologetic. "But Angela, everything reminds me of Jane. The whole
city is... Tainted. I'll never be able to put this behind me if I stay."

"Put it behind you? You're running," Angela accused softly. "Just think about what
you're doing. And remember that you haven't really tried to talk to Jane either. She isn't
the only one who can use a phone. And you aren't the only one who's hurting. I think
you should come to dinner tomorrow night and we can talk about all of this."

There was commotion in the background and Maura would have sworn she heard Jane's
voice. Angela muffled the phone for a moment, her voice garbled, before returning.

"I've gotta go sweetie," she said. "I'll call you tomorrow. I love you."

Maura wanted to admit she loved Angela too, that the woman was the mother Maura
had always dreamt of, but she couldn't find the words.

"Goodbye," she said instead.

Angela hung up and Maura held the phone to her ear for a moment longer, loathe to
end the connection.

In the morning, she called her mother and discussed the Paris flat. They spoke like
business associates, like strangers, and her mother did not profess any love before
ending the call.

Maura locked up her home, shipping Bass ahead to France. She'd keep the Boston home
so she would always have somewhere to stay in America if she ever felt like returning.

Three days later she was in Paris.

It was comfortable and familiar, and her rusty French returned rather quickly. The city
was like an ex-lover, welcoming her with warmth but equal parts reserve and distance
as well.

She established a routine, reading and researching, determined to use the time to write
the scholarly articles she had put off while at BPD. She strolled the bustling streets,
drank coffee and watched the world go by.

But the ache in her chest did not diminish.

For a month she worked and walked, kept to herself and tried to dissect the past few
months in her mind.

She thought about Jane endlessly. Dreamt about her.

From the safe distance of another continent, Maura allowed herself to wonder what it
would have been like to be with Jane. To kiss her. Make love to her. Date her.

Marry her.

She dreamt about Jane in her arms, bringing her nearly unbearable pleasure. But also
about Jane in her home, bringing her dinner.

She dreamt about the life they might have had together. The dark eyed, curly-haired
girls they would have had. The perfect family they would have made.

It hurt.

At first it was almost too much to bear, but then she grew accustomed to it. The grief
and agony became a part of her, something as natural and familiar as her own skin.

Sometimes, she thought she saw Jane. In the metro, crossing the street, outside her
flat...

She knew better though.

Six weeks into her trip, Maura answered one of Angela's phone calls.

They chatted for a moment, and when Maura hung up she felt odd and sorrowful and
like drawing another breath was impossible.

It took her two days to realize the feeling was homesickness.

She had to look it up online. She'd never been homesick before, never had a place she
felt loved and cherished and protected enough in to miss it when she left.

The feeling haunted her for days afterwards, so she ignored her phone, hoping that she
could avoid the feeling by not hearing Angela's voice.

Maura had been in Paris for two months and the empty, aching feeling behind her
breastbone hadn't abated.

She arrived home late one night to see the light on the answering machine blinking.

Only her parents called on that line. She listened absently as she changed clothes.
They had been planning to visit her in Paris but would have to reschedule. Their
conference in Geneva had gone over a day, and all their friends were going to Barcelona
afterwards, and would Maura mind postponing the visit for a few more weeks?

Slipping into black slacks and a mint green sweater, donning a light jacket and wrapping
a scarf elegantly around her neck, Maura set out for a glass of wine and a walk.

She needed to clear her head, to figure out why hearing her parents, having them
postpone, didn't upset her while just the sound of Angela's voice had sent her into a
days-long tailspin

After a glass of wine at her favorite bar, Maura set out for a walk along the Seine. She
thought about calling Jane. About seeing her.

She wondered if Jane was different. If she looked different, acted differently. She
wondered if the other woman was sleeping enough, eating right, watching her drinking.
Was she still using the same lotion, shampoo, toothpaste? Was she still sporting that
well-worn black suit? Those scuffed, leather boots?

She wondered if Jane missed her even a fraction of how badly she missed Jane.

Maura knew that she could reach out, that she could be the one to bridge the space
between them, but she was too afraid. If she reached out to Jane and was turned away,
she would never survive.

The silence was killing her enough as it was. At least this way, she could pretend.

After an hour or so, she began the journey back to the flat. She walked slowly, in no
hurry to return to the looming, open apartment void of life or love.

She thought about what she should do to better her life. Thought about finding a job in
Paris, or maybe London. About starting over, starting new, trying to live some
semblance of a life. About someday, when she didn't feel so acutely broken, adopting a
child.

The dim streets of Paris, cobblestones worn under her feet, didn't offer any answers.

Outside the building she'd spent childhood summers in, she paused.

It was a beautiful antique structure, well-maintained and elegantly decorated. It was

steeped in history, and the steps leading up opened into a gorgeous foyer that was so
lovely it made Maura breathless.

A shadowy figure caught Maura's gaze and she could hear Jane's voice in her head,
warning her about strangers.

The lanky figure moved into the arc of the light from the lamppost and Maura's breath
caught. Her entire body seized.

Two feet in front of her stood Jane.

Jane.

--
Feeling

Dressed in dark slacks, her light coat zipped up and revealing a hint of white oxford, a
leather bag slung over one shoulder, Jane looked weary, hesitant.

The look in her eyes was startling. There was a tangled, swirling darkness in them that
threatened to pull Maura under, drown her.

Maura couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't think.

The sight of Jane was impossible to assimilate and without her conscious permission,
Maura's body launched towards Jane.

The force of her movement was enough to cause them to rock violently backwards but
Jane steadied them, allowing Maura to bury her face in Jane's shoulder.

"Jane," she rasped.

Jane tried to pull back, to meet her gaze, but Maura's grip was unyielding.

"No," Maura cried, clutching tighter, her arms around Jane's neck.

"Ok," Jane's low voice was a benediction. "It's ok."

Jane's arms held Maura to her, one hand at the small of her back and the other cupping
her neck.

Maura thought fleetingly that she must be dreaming, perhaps even dead. It was too
much for her brain to process- Jane, in Paris, in her arms.

Here.

Jane.

She was warm and firm and her distinct scent wrapped around Maura just as potently
as her arms.

Long minutes passed and neither woman retreated. Jane softly stroked her fingers
against Maura's neck. Maura shivered, pulling Jane impossibly closer.

It took Maura a moment to realize the voice she was hearing was her own.

"I've missed you so much," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me. Please-
I need you."

Her secret despair, held in for so long, flowed out without her permission.

"I'm not leaving," Jane soothed. Her gravelly voice was heavy with sorrow. "I'm so
sorry, Maura."

Jane tried again to pull back, but Maura tightened her grip to stop the retreat.

"I'm not leaving," Jane repeated, trying to look at Maura's face.

Swallowing harshly, Maura loosened her grip but didn't let go.
When she met Jane's eyes, her stomach knotted and she fought the urge to bury her
face back in the quiet safety of Jane's neck.

The emotions in Jane's eyes were too mired, too potent, for Maura to process. The
intensity of what she saw there frightened her.

"God I've missed you," Jane exhaled harshly.

Maura licked her suddenly dry lips and Jane's eyes tracked the movement.

"How did you find me?" Maura asked, the shock subsiding and forcing hundreds of
questions to the forefront of her mind.

"My Ma," Jane looked sheepish. "I didn't know how else."

"You could have called me," Maura suggested softly.

"I wasn't sure you would answer," Jane looked at the ground. "I wouldn't have if I were
you. I was so wrong, Maura. I just... I had to see you."

"You came to Paris just to see me?" Maura realized the ache in her chest had dimmed
for the first time in nearly a year.

"Yes," Jane nodded.

"You've never been here before," Maura said dumbly, the enormity of it all dawning on
her.

"No," Jane shook her head. "It's the first time. First time for a lot of things, really."

Maura felt suddenly awkward. She was having trouble thinking through the visceral
haze of desire blanketing her body, her mind. She was having difficulty focusing on
anything aside from the desperate, ardent passion swirling around her.

She wanted to crawl inside of Jane and stay there forever. She wanted to kiss her, to
run her hands over every inch of Jane's skin, to feel Jane's naked body pressing against
hers in the dark.

Jane's cloudy eyes met Maura's and they snagged, held. Maura struggled to breathe.
They were still clutching each other, their faces only inches apart.

A passerby shot them a long look and Jane's eyes broke from Maura's.

"Let's go inside," she suggested.

Maura nodded and led them into the building, feeling nervous and frazzled. She tried to
calm herself, to tell herself that Jane had come to be her friend, to make amends.

There was no indication that Jane wanted any more from her, or that she knew the
depth of Maura's feelings. Maura tried to convince herself that she had nothing to fear,
but she didn't really believe it.

Maura's hands shook as she tried to fit the key into the lock of the ornate apartment.
Jane stepped up behind her, the heat from her body making it impossible for Maura to
move. She guided the doctor's hands in unlocking the door and then pushed it open,
allowing Maura to precede her into the flat.
"I don't-" Jane began to speak, shutting the world out with the solid oak door.

Maura was terrified of what she might say. Was worried she might say she didn't love
Maura- couldn't love her. Was petrified that she might pull away, leave the room, the
city, the country, her life.

She couldn't let Jane go now. She would never survive.

But she wasn't ready to speak, to ask questions or offer answers.

The only salvation, the only thing her mind could focus on, was kissing Jane.

So without thought or preface Maura stepped forwards and pressed her lips to Jane's.
She put a gentle hand on Jane's cheek, the other fisted tightly at her side.

Jane didn't respond but she didn't pull away.

Maura leaned back, resting her forehead against Jane's, her eyes still closed.

"I'm sorry," Maura breathed. She couldn't seem to move any further away, couldn't
seem to take her hand off Jane's cheek.

She wasn't entirely sure what she was apologizing for, but she suspected Jane knew it
wasn't for the kiss.

She'd never feel sorry for kissing Jane.

Hundreds, thousands, of words threatened to spill from her lips. Pleas, promises,
desperately heated confessions- she swallowed them down as best she could, knowing
she wouldn't be able to maintain the silence for long.

She wanted to tell Jane everything, wanted to free all the secrets and lies she'd been
carrying around for so many lonely, long days.

"Maura," Jane's pained voice met her ears and Maura squeezed her eyes against the
onslaught of tears pricking behind her eyelids.

"I'm so sorry Jane," she replied, crying softly. "I don't know why you're here but I can't
let go."

Their bodies were only inches apart, and Maura could feel the heat radiating off of Jane.

She was certain that this is what hell must feel like. The sweet agony of feeling the heat
but getting absolutely no warmth, no comfort.

Maura felt Jane begin to pull back, to step away. Desperate, she pressed her lips to
Jane's again.

Jane's hand grasped Maura's wrist but she was otherwise immobile. Not resisting, but
not encouraging either.

"Please don't go," Maura begged raggedly, kissing Jane yet again. "I can't let go."

Maura ran her tongue over the seam of Jane's lips, trying to rein her unruly body in but
failing miserably. When Jane opened her lips, Maura's tongue stole inside. Maura
brought her other hand up to cradle Jane's face in her palms.
She could feel the way Jane nearly vibrated with restrained emotions, wanted to make
Jane lose control in the same way she herself had lost all hope of sanity, of rational
thought.

Maura touched her tongue to Jane's, unable to stifle her moan. Jane tasted familiar and
new, made her feel wild with desire and ache with desperation. Jane allowed Maura's
tentative, erotic exploration but still did not move closer, did not respond with equal
fervor.

When Maura pulled back for air, she knew immediately it was a mistake. If Jane wasn't
kissing her, she could tell her all the reasons this was a mistake. Could tell her that she
didn't love Maura, hadn't come to do anything more than make Maura even more
miserable.

"Maura," Jane's tone was apologetic, her breathing heavy.

"Please," Maura repeated, frantic, silencing Jane with her lips once again.

This time, when she kissed Jane, the other woman responded. Jane's hands wrapped
around Maura's waist, crushing their bodies together.

The kiss grew, building in only seconds and taking on a life of its own. Their hands
roamed, their lips melded, tongues met, breath mingled.

Maura felt like Jane was turning her inside out. She felt like Jane was stripping her bare
and leaving her vulnerable, open to the world. With every touch of their lips and
tongues Jane took possession of another piece of Maura, and Maura knew she'd never
be whole again.

Before, Maura would have felt confident that Jane would protect her newfound
vulnerability. Before, Maura would have known, without a doubt, that Jane would
shelter her from the world. But now

Now, she couldn't be sure.

Now, for all Maura knew, Jane would lay her bare and leave her.

They kissed again and again, their bodies flush against each other and not nearly close
enough. Maura tugged until Jane's coat was sliding off her shoulders, left ignored on the
floor. She un-tucked Jane's shirt and ran her fingers against Jane's lightly defined abs.

She was frenzied, feral. A note of panic underlined everything she did, every breath she
took.

They staggered a few steps towards the nearest wall and Jane pressed Maura up
against it. Maura was glad for the anchor of the smooth surface at her back- she was
unraveling by the second and she couldn't seem to focus.

She'd never felt so out of control.

Desire and desperation cloaked her mind and body, for once allowing her to silence her
rational mind.

The only thing running through her head was- Jane can't leave.

Jane can't leave.

"I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown," Maura rasped, unsure what she
was saying but recognizing the truth.

She didn't know if Jane's presence in Paris was going to be the catalyst for saving or
surrender. She didn't think she wanted to know.

For now, for tonight, she just wanted to feel something besides pain.

Jane made her feel so much pain- so much sorrow, despair, animosity, loneliness.

For one night, she wanted Jane to make her feel pleasure.

Jane's brow furrowed and a curious, primal emotion flashed through her eyes but they
were kissing again before Maura had time to decipher it.

With Jane's lips on hers, the detective's hands roaming her body, Maura could forget
how lonely she'd been. She touched as much of Jane at once as possible, her hands
wild, her movements uncoordinated.

Jane skimmed her hands up under the hem of Maura's sweater, her rough palms
sparking against Maura's smooth stomach. Maura moaned, burying her face against
Jane's neck.

"Please don't stop," she begged, nipping the cord of muscle that ran up Jane's neck.
Jane shivered under her and Maura felt frustration welling at the way Jane's still
buttoned shirt stopped her from further tactile exploration.

Maura realized she was crying. Her breathing was heavy, ragged. Her fingers were
clawing at Jane's shirt, grasping the soft, wrinkled fabric tightly in her fists.

"Maura," Jane's voice seemed like it was coming from a distance. Her hands were
suddenly attempting to soothe rather than stoking the fires.

"P-p-please Jane," Maura stammered. She was dizzy, despondent, her skin felt too
small. She thought she must be going mad.

"Just hold on to me," Jane coaxed. "I've got you."

Maura nodded, sobbing, clutching even tighter to Jane's shirt.

Maura was distantly aware of them moving, but she didn't leave the protective shelter
of Jane's arms, didn't open her eyes. Her feet were moving, they were traversing the
hallway to her bedroom, but she couldn't focus on anything but the smell of Jane's hair,
the way her arms wrapped around Maura and practically carried her.

After long minutes, Maura felt something pressing at the back of her legs. The bed, her
brain managed to compute.

"Sit," Jane encouraged softly.

"I can't let-" Maura didn't know how to explain.

She was falling apart, breaking into a million little pieces, and she worried that if she let
go of Jane she would disintegrate and there would be no hope of ever putting her back
together again.
"I'm here," Jane soothed. "I'm here."

Maura's hand was clutching Jane's in a deathly grip. She closed her eyes again, allowed
Jane to coax her onto the bed. Maura climbed up and curled up on top of the comforter,
and it felt like an eternity in the seconds it took for Jane's arms to surround her again.

"I'm here," Jane repeated.

Maura settled back into Jane's arms, realizing how long it had been since anyone had
touched her, held her.

But nothing compared to the feel of Jane.

Their bodies were perfectly aligned, fitting together like yin and yang. Jane's hands
knew just the right tempo to soothe Maura. Her scent, her warmth, the even cadence of
her breathing, it was perfectly synched to make Maura feel like she belonged nowhere
else but right there in Jane's arms.

Maura couldn't seem to figure out what she was feeling.

Arousal, yes, but anxiety too- and the competition between the two was exhausting and
frightening and overwhelming.

"Jane," she whispered. She again felt like she must be dreaming. She had said Jane's
name so many times these past weeks but it had never garnered a response.

"Yeah?" Jane's concern was clear and she craned her head back to try to look Maura in
the eye.

Maura allowed it, leaning her head back in the hope that Jane would know what Maura
was feeling, would see in her eyes what she couldn't figure out how to explain, to
verbalize.

"I-" she didn't know what to say.

"It's ok," Jane shushed her. "I'm here."

Without hesitating, Maura rolled further into Jane's arms, tangling their legs together.
Maura rested her head over Jane's heart, listening to the steady beating. She rested
one arm over Jane's waist, clutching her shirt in hand.

"I'm so sorry," Jane rumbled into the dark. She gently toyed with Maura's hair with one
hand, the other skimming her arm.

Maura's eyes fluttered closed and desire pooled low in her gut. But a frightening
numbness also settled over her.

This couldn't be real.

Any minute now, Maura would wake up and it would all be gone.

Jane would be gone. Maura would be alone.

This visceral, vivid fantasy, this mirage it would dissipate in the early morning light
and Maura would lose yet another part of herself to Jane.
Still, Maura figured that if she was going to burn, she should at least stoke the fires into
a raging inferno.

She'd always appreciated a slow burn, but this was the time for an incandescent blaze.

Lifting slightly, Maura put her lips against Jane's collarbone. She could feel the way Jane
tensed beneath her.

Bolder, Maura opened her mouth against Jane's smooth skin, running her tongue along
the slightly salty flesh.

"Can't be real," she breathed, nipping softly. Jane's hands tightened against her.

Maura exhaled harshly, kissing up the long column of Jane's neck. Maura shifted until
she was practically lying on top of Jane. She gritted her teeth against the flood of
sensations washing over her.

It was too much.

It was all too much.

She thought she'd lost Jane forever.

Thought she'd never see her again.

And yet yet here she was, under Maura, touching her, kissing her.

Maura felt her breathing accelerate to an almost dangerous rate. Her heart felt like it
was pounding harder than ever before.

Pressing her lips to Jane's, she kissed the detective as if it was the last thing she'd ever
do. Jane's arms crushed Maura to her body, holding her so tightly Maura thought she
might snap in half.

Maura was too frenzied to remain still for long, pulling her lips away from Jane's and
trailing them across her collar, down the 'v' of her shirt. She pulled with uncoordinated
fingers until the top two buttons of Jane's oxford popped open, continuing the path of
her lips across smooth, olive skin.

Jane put her hand under Maura's chin, tilting her face up.

"There's no rush," Jane rumbled. "I'm not going anywhere."

Jane's hand trailed up across Maura's cheek, threaded into her hair. Maura's eyes
fluttered closed. She rested her forehead against Jane's sternum, trying to calm her
breathing.

"But you did," Maura rasped. "You left me."

Jane shuddered beneath her.

"I'm sorry," she offered into the dark. "I'm here now."

"Are you?" Maura whispered. "I'm afraid if I stop, I'll wake up."

"You're awake," Jane assured her.

"I can't be," Maura replied breathlessly. "This can't be real. Any minute now I'll realize
I'm alone. I'm always alone. You just you can't be here."

"I'm here," Jane said. She rolled them swiftly, wrapping Maura underneath her.

Maura's eyes were still closed, her arms splayed out to her sides. Jane was cradled
between Maura's thighs, holding herself up and back with one arm. She slid the other
hand down Maura's arm to grab her hand. Tugging gently, she guided Maura's hand
over her own heart.

"Feel that?" Jane coaxed. "I'm here. We're ok."

"But I'm not ok," Maura sighed, shaking her head. "I'm not ok."

Jane's head bowed, the weight of Maura's sorrow a burden she felt unfit to bear.

"I'm sorry," Jane pressed a tender kiss to Maura's lips. "I'm so sorry, Maura."

Maura clutched Jane's shoulders, pulling the other woman down on top of her. She
resisted, afraid she'd crush Maura, but the doctor persisted.

"Please," she begged. "I want to feel safe, if only for a moment."

Helpless to resist, Jane rested her weight on top of Maura. Maura's arms wrapped
around Jane's torso, holding her close. Jane wrapped her arms under Maura's shoulders,
pulling their bodies flush.

Maura's face was buried in Jane's neck. It was her new favorite place to be, and the
only place she'd felt safe in days, weeks, months.

"Why did you come?" she whimpered.

"I had to see you," Jane replied.

"Why?" Maura practically begged. Being wrapped up against Jane was terrifying, but
with her face hidden in the warm cocoon of Jane's neck, Maura also felt just a little bit
fearless.

Nothing could hurt her here. Not even Jane.

"Maura, I," Jane faltered. "What did you say to my Ma?"

"The truth," Maura responded.

Jane trembled above her, against her.

"Why did you lie to me?" Jane rasped, her voice full of hurt, sorrow, confusion.

"I had to protect you," Maura cried. "You didn't deserve to get wrapped up in my mess."

"I could have helped," Jane whispered. "I would have done whatever it took."

"Exactly," Maura nodded emphatically. "You would have risked everything- you have too
much to lose."
"So instead I had to lose you," Jane offered bitterly.

"An acceptable loss," Maura sighed. "Given the odds."

"Odds?" Jane snapped incredulously. "This wasn't something you could just calculate."

"But it was," Maura countered. "You have friends and family and a career that you love.
I have my life, myself. For me to take those risks was acceptable, but to force you to do
the same was out of the question."

Jane pulled away abruptly, standing. The fury, the incredulity in her eyes, was startling.

"So all of this," she gestured roughly between them. "Was some sort of game for you?"

Maura struggled to sit up, to assimilate the suddenly cool air, the crushing weight
against her chest.

"No," she shook her head. "I wanted to protect you."

"From what?" Jane demanded.

"From everything," Maura said. "I knew what I was doing was illegal, Jane. I knew it
was against the law but it was right. I couldn't involve you in that."

After Ian had gone, Maura had realized that he wasn't the love of her life.

Jane was.

Jane was the one who meant everything.

So when Ian called, asked if she could get him the medicines he needed, she almost
said no. But he told her what was happening to the children he worked with, said she
should come see it.

She almost said no.

Then she thought about how she could never have Jane's love, how her best friend
would forever be nothing more than that, and it made her feel despondent, reckless.

Lying, she told everyone at BPD that she was attending a medical conference for a
week. In reality, she was with Ian. What she saw there broke her heart, opened her
eyes, changed her.

When she returned to Boston, she sought out the drugs Ian wanted, needed. Maura was
smart and her knowledge of investigations and police work came in handy. The first few
shipments went off flawlessly

"You should have told me," Jane asserted. "I thought I was your best friend."

"You are," Maura emphasized the present tense. "That's why I had to protect you."

"Why did you lie about going to Africa?" Jane asked. "About seeing Ian again."

Maura knew she and Jane already crossed every line, destroyed every barrier in their
friendship, but she was still afraid to put all her cards on the table.
Then she looked at, really saw, Jane.

Jane was clearly hurt. She looked cornered, oh so wild- caged. She looked desperate
and needy and as terrible as Maura felt.

It comforted Maura.

"I figured if I couldn't have you," Maura whispered. "I had nothing to lose."

"Who said you couldn't have me?" Jane rasped, her voice strained.

"I knew," Maura sighed. "You're Jane Rizzoli. You're brave and intelligent and funny.
Everyone loves you, wants to be near you. You're the best friend I've ever had. You
deserve someone who is equally amazing, and while none of the men you date have
lived up to that someday one of them will and then you'll be taken from me. It's
inevitable."

"What?" Jane's surprise was tinged with sorrow, her eyes darkening with something
Maura couldn't decipher.

"I lied Jane," Maura admitted. "When I said I wasn't in love with you. But it was only to
protect you. Isn't that one of the times when it's ok to lie? I wanted to do something
great with my life, and if I couldn't love you then it would have to be something else
great. Helping Ian was the obvious choice."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jane demanded, taking a few quick, angry steps
towards the bed.

Maura felt something in the pit of her stomach tighten. She stood, wondering how long
her legs would hold her.

"Even before Ian arrived," Maura began. "I realized I was falling in love with you. I
didn't know how to stop it. It seemed inevitable. I've never fallen in love with a
woman before but I know what it's like to fall in love- this was beyond anything I could
have imagined. And I looked at you I knew you'd never love me back. I needed to do
something to make me forget, to pull me away from the way you made me feel, so
when Ian called I answered."

"Maura, you," Jane interrupted.

"Stop," Maura shook her head, pleading. "I'm not quite done- I just need to get this out.
I was going to keep working with Ian, but it was hard for me, not being able to share
everything with you. I think he could see the toll it was taking. He tried to tell me it was
alright, that I could quit. But I didn't know how. Then I slipped up, and that's how
Narcotics sensed I might be involved with him. I managed to make it seem like it was
just that one shipment that's why they only suspended me for 90 days instead of
pressing charges. Ian acted like he'd been coercing me, blackmailing me. He was
already in so much trouble that a little more was no real burden for him."

"Maura," Jane tried again.

"It's done now," Maura shrugged. "They said I'm free and clear- but I'm not free, Jane.
Because I can't seem to get away from you."

Jane's eyes were glossy, unreadable in the dark.

Maura felt suddenly stifled, like the room was suffocating, like the world was closing in
on her. She walked over and opened the glass doors onto the balcony, stepping out to
let the cool night air wash over her.

When Maura agreed to help Ian, she began to distance herself from Jane, from her
friends. It was the only fair thing to do, but it was also impossible to stop. To help Ian
she had to lie, demure, avoid. She had to start being vague, being busy, disappearing.

They would go to the Dirty Robber but she'd have to turn them down. They'd be out on
a call and she'd show up late. It became impossible to maintain the closeness they'd
had when she was wrapping herself in such subterfuge.

She couldn't have admitted it at the time but in retrospect, it also gave her a reason to
avoid Jane. To give herself space to breathe, time to think. It meant she wasn't so
constantly overwhelmed by the way she felt about Jane, by her love for her best friend.

Then, during the investigation into Maura's involvement with Ian, she'd pushed
everyone at BPD completely away. She had known it was imperative to keep them at a
distance, to make clear that they had absolutely no connection.

That was when she'd been confronted by Jane. That was when she'd lied- said she
wasn't in love with her.

Jane had said, talk to me Maura. I'm your friend. I love you.

Maura, with a practiced ease, had replied, I love you Jane, but I'm not in love with you.
I wanted to help Ian- so I did.

Jane had been hurt, confused, probably more than a little bit angry. So she'd pulled
away, allowed Maura to keep her distance.

And Maura, knowing she could never have Jane as her own, allowed it.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Jane asked.

Maura's brow furrowed, and she turned to look over her shoulder at Jane.

"I just explained," she hesitated.

"No," Jane stepped up next to her. The heat from her body made Maura aware of how
chilly it was outside. "Why didn't you tell me how you felt about me?"

"Having some of you," Maura sighed, gazing out at the city before her. "Was better than
losing all of you."

"If you'd only said," Jane leaned forwards, bracing herself against the railing, eyes
closed.

Maura looked over at her, that niggling fear from earlier crawling up her spine.

"If I had?" she prompted breathlessly.

"Things would have been different," Jane equivocated.

"Different how?" Maura urged.

"Well," Jane heaved a shuddering sigh. "Guess we'll never know."

"Tell me," Maura half begged, half commanded.

"It doesn't matter now," Jane said.

"Why did you come?" Maura asked, changing tactics.

"I had to see you," Jane looked at Maura curiously. "I had to know if I could see what
everyone else seemed so sure of."

"Do you see it?" Maura knew a blind man could see the way she felt about Jane,
especially given her greeting only moments before, her explanation for her behavior
over the past months.

"Yeah," Jane turned back to the skyline. "I see it."

"And?" Maura prompted, unsure of the reason behind Jane's sudden reservation, sudden
melancholy and withdrawal.

"And I spent the whole way here thinking about what I'd do when I saw you," Jane
admitted. "I went from one end of the spectrum to the other- from furious to crying and
everything in between. When I found your building I was worried, afraid you wouldn't
even want to talk to me. Then you you touched me and I got a rush of all those other
feelings too, that crazy mix I get only around you where I can't think. All I knew was
that I needed to touch you."

"What did you expect me to say?" Maura wondered aloud.

"I don't know," Jane replied. "To be honest I couldn't even imagine you'd talk to me.
The whole thing felt like a fool's errand but I couldn't seem to stop myself. It had just
been so long since I saw you, since I heard your voice, something inside of me just kept
pushing me towards you."

"I'm glad," Maura whispered.

Jane's head whipped up in surprise.

"You don't believe me?" Maura challenged softly, curious.

"No, I," Jane shrugged. "I just didn't expect you to say that."

"You're my best friend," Maura said. "Even when it hurts this badly, I'll still be glad to
see you."

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Jane apologized breathlessly.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Maura echoed.

Their eyes met and something transpired between them.

A flicker of hope for the flame of their love. The little light had been buffeted by wind
and storm, and Maura had thought it was surely extinguished. Now now it seemed
that perhaps it had just faltered, but that if they protected it they could revive the
spark.
Jane reached over hesitantly, eyes still locked with Maura's, and grabbed her hand.
Maura squeezed softly, and they allowed their palms to rest together, fingers interlaced.

Standing there with Paris beneath them, time slowed.

"I love you," Maura breathed, and it felt like letting something toxic and heavy drain out
of her. She felt cleaner and lighter, and while the weight of her sorrow, of their
mistakes, still pulled at her shoulders, she stood a little taller.

Jane used their joined hands to tug Maura closer on the little balcony. Both sets of eyes
returned to the horizon.

"I love you too," she whispered.

Maura leaned over and rested her head on Jane's shoulder. Jane released her hand,
wrapping an arm around Maura's waist instead.

"How did we get here?" Jane asked.

Maura had been asking herself the same question for days, weeks, months.

"You said hello," she admitted. "That's all it took for me."

Jane's arm tightened around Maura almost imperceptibly.

"I meant," Jane hesitated, gesturing vaguely at their current position. "Here."

"I know," Maura replied.

"Do you still" Jane lost her voice, lost her nerve.

"Always," Maura whispered.

Jane swallowed, hard.

"Me too," she said.

"But you don't trust me," Maura offered, Jane's hesitance suddenly making sense.

"I want to," Jane admitted. "I really do."

"It's ok," Maura soothed. She didn't trust herself right now.

"So what do we," Jane asked. "What do we do now?"

"We sleep," Maura stepped back into the dark bedroom. "I'm exhausted, and you must
be too."

Jane nodded, eying the bed warily.

"There are guest bedrooms just down the hall," Maura added. "I can make one up for
you."

Jane licked her lips nervously, and Maura could sense the battle waging inside her but
couldn't discern the reason.
"I'd like to hold you," Jane met Maura's eyes, and Maura was powerless to resist.

She nodded her assent. Jane held a finger up in a, wait a second motion before
disappearing from the room.

Maura took the minute to change into pajamas, a sleeveless silk nightgown that fell to
her knees, and to scrub her face clean of make-up. When she returned to the bedroom,
Jane was looking out the window in a Red Sox t-shirt and gym shorts.

Sensing Maura's presence, she turned, their eyes snagging. Jane's eyes dropped, her
gaze smoothing over Maura in a way that made her shiver.

"God you're beautiful," Jane breathed, and Maura wondered if she was aware she'd
spoken.

Maura moved over to the bed, climbing in with trembling hands. Jane waited for Maura
to situate herself before joining her. They lay beside each other, shoulders touching, for
a long minute before Jane shifted.

Pulling Maura over and against her, Jane wrapped an arm around Maura's back. Maura's
head rested on Jane's shoulder, her arm slung across Jane's waist. Their legs tangled
together under the comforter.

"Is this ok?" Jane rasped.

Maura couldn't speak, so she nodded and burrowed closer.

Neither woman spoke, their soft breathing punctuating the charged air around them.
Jane fell asleep first, her arms tightening around Maura as she drifted off.

Maura stayed awake a while longer, breathing in the scent of her friend, memorizing the
feel of their bodies against each other- just in case.

Just in case she woke up in the morning and this was all just a dream.

Or worse- just in case she woke up in the morning and all that was left of this night was
the subtle hint of Jane's scent on her sheets.

Just in case.

--

Flying

When she awoke, Jane was still sleeping beneath her. Maura was loathe to leave the
warm safety of her arms but she needed to think, and it was impossible to do that with
Jane surrounding her.

Eventually, she pried herself out of the warm bed and padded down the hall. She made
coffee and wrapped a sweater around herself and sat on the balcony off the kitchen, her
thoughts jumbled.

She wanted nothing more than to rush back into the bedroom, to run her lips and hands
over every inch of Jane's body. She knew Jane didn't trust her, had reasons for that,
but Maura was so overwhelmingly in love with Jane that it was difficult to process
rationally.
At this point, she wasn't sure what they were doing.

Was Jane going to stay in Paris for a while? Was she expecting Maura to come back to
Boston? To her old job?

If she went back, would she and Jane be colleagues? Friends? Lovers?

Would Jane ever trust her again? How long would it take?

In her gut, Maura knew she wouldn't be going back to Boston. Not right now, not like
this. She wasn't ready.

Maura wanted to ask Jane about everything but she wasn't sure how, or what her
questions should be exactly. She knew that if Jane were touching her, she wouldn't be
able to formulate much of anything in the way of rational thoughts.

Maura was startled from her thoughts when Jane appeared in the doorway onto the
balcony, rubbing her eyes wearily.

"Hey," she greeted, her voice gravelly from sleep. "How long have you been out here?"

"An hour," Maura replied. "I didn't want to wake you."

Jane shuffled back and forth from foot to foot.

"Have a seat," Maura offered, indicating the chair opposite hers at the small table.
"Would you like some coffee?"

"I can get it," Jane resisted.

"Please," Maura stood. "Let me."

Nodding, Jane sat down. Maura disappeared and returned a moment later with a
steaming mug in her hand. She set it on the table between them, resuming her seat.

"Thanks," Jane took a long, grateful sip of the warm beverage.

Maura looked out at the waking city, acutely aware of Jane's eyes on her.

"Can you stay?" Maura asked without turning to look at Jane.

"For a few days," Jane nodded.

"I'm glad," Maura breathed.

"You're not coming back," Jane whispered. "Are you?"

"I'm-" Maura began to lie, to say she planned to return, but Jane put a hand on hers.
"No. Not right now anyways."

Jane removed her hand, wrapping it back around her coffee mug. Maura could sense
the tension growing between them.

"I have to pick something up today," she asserted. "Will you come with me?"
Nodding, Jane drank from her mug.

"I'll be ready in an hour," Maura told her. "Make yourself at home."

Slipping inside, Maura tried to hold back tears she hadn't expected. In the shower, she
let them fall freely, trying to cleanse her soul as she cleaned her body.

She ran through her morning routine with a precise efficiency but her hands shook and
her heart pounded. She could hear Jane rustling around in one of the guest bedrooms.

When Maura made her way back into the kitchen almost exactly an hour later their
coffee mugs were washed, the balcony doors closed and locked. Jane was reading a
book in Maura's favorite chair, and she silently bemoaned that she would never again be
able to sit there without picturing Jane.

"I'm ready," Maura asserted, and Jane looked up, her eyes skating over Maura's form.

Maura had put on a flowing crimson dress, and she admitted to herself that it was
mostly in the hope of having Jane react. But the way Jane's eyes darkened, her lips
parted, her book fell heavily into her lap- it was more than Maura could have imagined.

"Ok," Jane stood, placing her book on the table next to the brown leather armchair.

They donned their coats and Maura led them out of the apartment, Jane's warm
presence beside her keeping her on a razor's edge.

Maura worried that their entire day would be characterized by this charged
awkwardness but Jane Jane managed to put it aside and Maura was helpless to resist.

They walked through Paris together and the city changed for Maura. She pointed things
out to Jane- her favorite restaurant, caf, museum, street corner.

At lunch, Maura laughed and it startled her. She had forgotten the sound of her own
happiness.

They fell into their old ways but it took effort, and the strain of it showed as the day
wore on. The silences grew, the looks lingered, the conversation stalled.

But it was Jane.

Jane.

Maura couldn't seem to wrap her mind around walking the city streets with Jane by her
side. They walked aimlessly for hours until Maura remembered the reason for their
errand.

The art gallery was intimate, elegant.

The painting was one Maura had seen upon arriving in Paris and known she would
purchase. Now, she was nervous to reveal it to Jane.

Jane waited patiently while Maura spoke in French with the artist. The woman's eyes
travelled to Jane's figure and something lit in her gaze. She offered Maura a slightly
lower price than they had agreed upon but Maura was insistent.

When the painting was brought out, Maura was glad it was wrapped, concealed.
Jane carried it without asking, carefully grasping the handle on the crate.

They returned to the apartment to drop it off and Maura excused herself to her
bedroom. She needed a minute away from Jane, away with her own thoughts.

Jane seemed to understand and she returned to her book, waiting patiently.

When Maura returned, Jane was making two cups of tea. They chatted and moved
carefully in the small space, relearning each other's movements.

Maura cooked dinner in the apartment and they did their best to function, to be friends.
The strain drove Maura to turn in early, and without discussion Jane made herself
comfortable in a guest bedroom down the hall.

The next few days passed like a dream, in a haze of soft touches and strained silence
and surprising laughter. They walked the streets of Paris together, re-familiarizing
themselves with each other, only this time there was a newness to it, an intimacy that
surpassed the friendship they'd had before.

They didn't discuss Maura's time in Africa, her secret dealings with Ian, the way she
pushed them all away. They didn't talk about Jane fighting for Maura, or her subsequent
fighting with her. They didn't broach the topic of the nearly palpable love between them
or what would happen to it now, or in the near future.

The night before Jane's departure, Maura was nervous, petrified. When Jane went home
in the morning, everything would change again.

The magical little world they had created in Paris would vanish.

If Maura returned to Boston, they wouldn't be able to simply pick up where they left off.
Everything had been irreparably broken, and put together in a different way.

They'd come back to the apartment in the mid-afternoon to relax and get dressed. They
decided to eat dinner at Maura's favorite Parisian bistro.

Overwhelmed with a desire to ask Jane not to leave, Maura excused herself to her
bedroom as soon as they returned to the apartment.

Jane gave her the space she so desperately needed, and it reminded Maura again how
attuned the other woman was to her thoughts, her needs.

Maura emerged fifteen minutes later, nervously twisting her hands. Night was falling
and Maura wasn't sure what to say. She had exhausted her small talk, and while Jane
could fill silences with stories of Frost and Korsak, of Frankie and Angela, Maura had
nothing to ramble on about.

"Hi," Maura greeted anxiously.

"Hey," Jane's lips lifted slightly.

"I um-" Maura stalled.

"Come here," Jane extended a hand.

Hesitantly, Maura accepted the hand. Jane pulled Maura into her lap, settled her against
her lanky frame, and returned to her book.
Maura sighed breathlessly and closed her eyes.

They sat, Jane reading, for almost an hour. The silence was broken when Maura's
stomach rumbled.

Jane chuckled and put her book down.

"Hungry?" she teased.

Maura flushed and hid her face.

"Come on," Jane urged Maura to stand. "Let's get some dinner."

They showered and dressed, and Maura's breath caught in her throat when Jane
reappeared.

In mocha slacks and an emerald, cashmere sweater, Jane looked breathtaking. Her hair
was drying in wild waves around her face, she looked sensual and casual. The intimate
look in her eyes as she appraised Maura's body made the doctor's heart pound, and if
she were someone else entirely, Maura would have suggested they skip dinner.

Instead, she swallowed harshly.

"You look lovely, Jane," she breathed.

Jane blushed but didn't avert her gaze.

"Nothing compared to how gorgeous you are," she returned, and Maura couldn't deny
the thrill she felt at Jane's words, her heated gaze.

They walked down the street to the small, intimate restaurant that Maura frequented.
The meal was eaten mostly in quiet, the charged silence a reminder of what they both
knew so acutely- this was the end of something.

After dinner, Maura began walking in the direction of the apartment but Jane used her
hand to softly pull Maura the opposite way.

"Let's walk," she suggested, not releasing Maura's hand, her eyes pleading.

Nodding, Maura allowed herself to be led down the street. They walked along the river,
and when Maura shivered, Jane wrapped her arm around Maura's shoulders, pulling her
close as they walked.

"When you come back," Jane began. When, Maura noted- not if. "I'll be waiting."

Maura swallowed harshly.

"And right now?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm waiting," Jane said.

"For what?" Maura pressed.

Jane stopped, turning to face Maura. She put a little distance between them, and Maura
braced herself.
"You to forgive me," Jane shrugged.

"Forgive you?" Maura's brow furrowed. It wasn't what she was expecting at all. "For
what?"

"For not fighting," Jane said. "For giving in, giving up. You deserved better. That's why I
came here, Maura. To show you that I mean what I said- I'd do anything for you. For a
while there, I I know I didn't do right by you, you needed me and I wasn't there for
you but I was hurt and confused. I thought you didn't want me around anymore, so I
pulled away. It was selfish, and it hurt you and I'm sorry. I'm here now, I'll always be
here."

Maura looked at Jane, felt like she was seeing her for the first time.

"I'm in love with you, Maura," Jane continued, her voice a low rumble. "I should have
told you sooner, should have told you every fuckin' day, but I didn't know how. I was
afraid- of losing you, of having you, of all of it. I'm still afraid, but if I can fly all the way
to Paris just to see you, I should be able to tell you the reason. So there it is, the real
reason I'm here: I'm in love with you."

Jane didn't flinch, didn't shy away. She stood straight, met Maura's gaze head-on.

She was laid bare.

Right there on the corner of Boulevard St. Germain and Rue Saint Jacques, she was
giving Maura everything- the whole truth.

It was terrifying.

"I'm," Maura's voice wavered, she swallowed, tried again. "I'm in love with you too,
Jane."

Jane's smile was sudden, brilliant, blinding.

Maura hadn't seen it in ages, and she couldn't help her own shier smile in response. The
joy on Jane's face was intoxicating, a heady cocktail that Maura drank in greedily.

"You're in love with me" Jane breathed incredulously.

"Yes," Maura nodded. "I'm I love you."

Jane stepped forwards, cupping Maura's face in her hands, and pressed their lips
together. Maura was startled but she responded rapidly, kissing Jane back with a
passion that rapidly took over both of them.

With a last peck of Maura's lips, Jane stepped back.

"Maura," she breathed raggedly.

Maura tried to step forwards again, to taste Jane's lips once more, but Jane stood firm.

"What are you waiting for?" Maura asked, confusion edging into her voice.

"Forgiveness," Jane replied.

"I forgive you," Maura said immediately, once more trying to kiss Jane.
"I know," Jane forced Maura to meet her eyes with just the intensity of her gaze. "I'm
waiting for you to forgive yourself."

Maura's brow furrowed and it took a minute for Jane's words to process.

She was right.

Maura hadn't forgiven herself.

Not for lying, for running, for hiding, for any of it.

Her eyes welled with tears and her love for Jane grew impossibly deeper. Jane's soft
look was full of tenderness, concern, love.

"I just," Maura began, biting back a sob.

"I told you," Jane rumbled. "I'll wait."

"I'm so sick of waiting," Maura whispered, pulling Jane's body flush with hers. "I've
been waiting my whole life, Jane. I just want you- the rest of it will come in time."

"Maura I don't know if I can," Jane hesitated, struggling with the truth. "I don't know if I
can do this tonight and then leave you in the morning. If you don't come back, it'll kill
me."

If, this time. Not when.

Maura could sense the trepidation in Jane, could feel the insecurity radiating out of the
normally brash, bold woman. It cut her deeply to realize that she had put that fear in
Jane's eyes, in her heart.

"I love you Jane," Maura whispered. "I may have some things to figure out but that will
not change. Let me show you, tonight."

Jane searched Maura's gaze for a long minute, and Maura tried not to flinch, shift, or
shutter her emotions from the piercing scrutiny.

Finally, Jane deflated. The resignation was palpable.

"I'm sick of waiting too," she sighed.

Maura felt her heart clench and her entire body became acutely aware of Jane's body
pressing against her own.

She stepped back, laced her fingers through Jane's, and guided them back to her
apartment. Jane's steps were sure and confident but Maura could sense her
nervousness, knew it perfectly mirrored her own.

Inside, they hung their coats, slipped off their shoes, the space and silence growing
exponentially between them in the private, quiet home.

Feeling suddenly suffocated, Maura moved over and opened the balcony door. She
stood there, wondering if Jane had changed her mind, if she should say something

Jane was moving around behind her and soft music filled the room. It put Maura at ease
somewhat, the soft strains of Sia's voice swirling around her.
She felt Jane behind her, her breath catching when Jane's arms slid around her waist.

Maura melted back against Jane, putting her arms over Jane's around her hips. Jane
pressed a kiss to Maura's neck, pulled her hair aside to run her lips up her throat. Maura
craned her neck to the side to give Jane unrestricted access to her soft flesh.

"Jane," Maura breathed.

The feel of Jane against her, the enormity of what they were doing, it was
overwhelming. Maura tightened her grip on Jane's arm where it wrapped around her
waist, clenching her eyes tightly closed.

"I dream about this," Jane rasped, her hand moving under the hem of Maura's top to
reverently stroke her skin. "Any minute now I'll wake up."

Maura wrapped an arm backwards to clutch at Jane's hip.

Jane tentatively smoothed a hand upwards, the movement of her fingers making Maura
dizzy. They swayed softly to the music.

Maura wanted to give Jane an out. Wanted to say, we don't have to. She couldn't find
the words though.

She needed this.

Needed Jane.

Turning, she wrapped her arms around Jane's taller, more muscled frame. Jane's arms
encircled her effortlessly, their lips meeting softly.

The touch was hesitant, despite the kisses they had shared before. This was different,
and they were both acutely aware of the shift.

The trepidation couldn't last though, not when Maura met Jane's lips and swore she
could taste the sorrow on them. Not when Jane's hands were on her hips, their bodies
rocking softly against each other.

She trailed her tongue across the seam of Jane's lips, hungrily snaking inside when Jane
opened her mouth. Their tongues met, stroked, and Maura moaned.

"Jane," she breathed desperately, Jane's lips trailing fire across her jaw, down her neck.

Jane ran her hands down to Maura's thighs, grabbing them and encouraging Maura to
wrap her legs around Jane's waist. Jane carried Maura towards the master bedroom,
Maura's frenzied kisses distracting her along the way.

Jane deposited Maura on the floor next to the bed. Maura would have sworn she felt
physical pain when Jane pulled back, but it abated when Jane stripped off her sweater,
stepped out of her slacks, leaving her in a simple black lingerie set. Maura watched, her
eyes darkening to a haunting, endless green.

Stepping forwards again, Jane put a hand on the hem of Maura's top. Maura allowed
Jane to pull the garment off, removing her bra and tossing it aside as well.

"God you're beautiful," Jane sighed, skimming her palms up from Maura's hips to her
breasts.
Maura's eyes fluttered closed, her breath leaving in a rush as Jane's palms rasped
against her sensitive skin.

"I've always," Jane's voice was stilted, haunting. "I always wondered. You're more you
just"

Opening her eyes, Maura was surprised at what she saw. Jane was standing right in
front of her, hands on Maura's breasts, but her eyes were closed, her head bowed. She
was biting her lip, her chest rising and falling raggedly.

"Come back," Maura coaxed, running her hands across Jane's bare hips.

"I'm here," Jane sighed, shaking her head slightly. "I'm here."

Not knowing what else to say, Maura pressed her lips to Jane's again. When she
couldn't breathe, could barely think, she pulled back and ran her lips down Jane's
throat, across her collarbone, kissed the top of each lace-encased breast.

She coaxed Jane out of her bra and Maura had to grit her teeth against the desire that
flooded here when she did.

Reverently, Maura cupped Jane's breasts, reveling in the smooth, fullness and the way
it tugged something deep in her gut.

Unable to resist, Maura leaned forward and captured a nipple between her lips, grazing
it lightly with her teeth. Jane jerked and grabbed the back of Maura's head roughly.

"God," she exhaled harshly.

They continued to undress and explore, and Maura used every ounce of her self-control
to slow down, to commit every single detail to memory.

It was nearly impossible, with the way Jane's need rolled off her in waves, crashing over
Maura with a force that her own body echoed.

When they were both naked, Maura urged Jane to lie down on the bed and rested her
own smaller frame against her. The contact was searing, and Maura knew she'd never
be free of Jane now.

The touch of their naked bodies was imprinting Jane upon her very soul, leaving an
indelible mark.

Maura slid down Jane's body until she was resting between her legs. She closed her
eyes against the heady rush of desire that shot through her like an electric current.
Rasping her palms up Jane's thighs, she moved ever closer to Jane's center.

"Maura," Jane pleaded with her voice, her eyes.

Understanding, Maura leaned down and stroked through Jane's folds with a firm touch
of her tongue. Jane exhaled raggedly, her hands fisting in the sheets.

"You taste so good," Maura sighed. "I could never get enough."

Using her lips and tongue, Maura brought Jane to the peak of pleasure. Just before
pushing her over, she reached up and laced their fingers together.
When Jane came, she breathed Maura's name into the room like it was her dying word.
She trembled and clutched at Maura, pulling her up to lie across her as she shook with
the force of her orgasm.

Jane held her close for endless minutes, her breath coming in sawing, gasping pants.
Maura's desire threatened to consume her but she held it at bay.

Her mind raced.

This was where she belonged.

Here, in Jane's arms.

For the rest of their lives.

Forever.

And yet in the morning, Jane would be gone.

"I love you," Maura said, burying her face in the crook of Jane's neck.

Jane's hands began a slow exploration of Maura's body. She rolled them so that she was
looming over Maura.

"I love you too," she replied, kissing her way down Maura's body.

Her hands were everywhere. The scent of her was overwhelming. She kissed and licked
Maura's smooth skin, her touch intoxicating.

Maura couldn't seem to catch her breath, couldn't think.

Jane surrounded her, using her fingers and lips and tongue to bring Maura to the brink
of insanity and with a few practiced touches she pushed her over the precipice.

As her orgasm subsided, Maura pulled Jane close. She wrapped her arms tightly around
her, tangled their legs together. She didn't try to stop herself from crying when she felt
tears pricking behind her eyelids.

She sobbed softly, trembling in Jane's arms.

They made love for hours, inextricably entwined in Maura's expensive sheets. Maura
kissed every inch of Jane's body, mapping the planes and contours of her lover and
searing them into her memory.

"Just in case," she whispered into the dark, Jane's body shivering under her soft touch.
"Just in case I"

"Don't," Jane growled, her eyes seeking out Maura's. "Don't say it."

Maura responded by nipping harshly at Jane's collar, knowing it would leave a mark that
would take days to fade.

It only seemed fair, after all, since the marks Jane left on her, while not visible to the
naked eye, would last forever.
Maura drifted off sometime around 3 a.m. When she awoke the sun was peeking
through the clouds and the space beside her was empty and cold.

Scanning, she saw Jane on the small patio. Jane was naked, her arms braced on the
railing, the first rays of sun illuminating her body with a gentle radiance that made
Maura's breath catch.

It took her a moment to realize that Jane was crying.

Stunned, Maura didn't know what to do. She watched for a moment, mesmerized by the
way Jane's body shook softly, her hands tight against the wrought iron bar she
clutched.

Silently, Maura padded over and wrapped her arms around Jane from behind, pressing a
soft kiss to her bare skin.

Jane's head bowed, her weight sagging against Maura. Maura leaned her forehead
against Jane's shoulder.

They stood naked on the small balcony overlooking Paris until the sun had risen fully
and Jane's breathing evened out.

Finally, Jane pulled away, moved through the bedroom and disappeared down the
hallway. Maura shivered as the cool morning air assaulted her but also as she realized
that Jane wasn't just sad.

Jane was angry.

Sliding a robe around herself, Maura put her hair in a clip and put a pot of coffee on.
She could hear Jane rustling in the guest bedroom, packing Maura assumed.

Always the hostess, Maura set out some fruit and pastries, a cup of coffee for Jane. Too
upset to eat, Maura sipped a cup of coffee before making her way back to shower.

As she showered, she cried.

Jane was one room away and already Maura missed her so badly it hurt.

The ache in her chest at Jane's impending departure was more acute than all the sorrow
she felt upon arriving in Paris.

When Maura emerged, showered and dressed, Jane was again reading in the oversized
leather armchair. The sorrow rolling off her was palpable.

She was wearing dark jeans, her white oxford rolled up to reveal her forearms. Her bag
was sitting by the door, her jacket slung haphazardly across it.

Maura stood in the entryway to the room watching her for endless moments, trying to
soak everything about her in. Jane was gorgeous, absolutely breathtaking. The sadness
radiating out of her made Maura want to wrap her arms around Jane and never let go.

She reminded herself that she was the cause of that sorrow and it made her heart ache
exponentially more.

Jane looked up finally, meeting Maura's eyes.

Maura couldn't breathe, couldn't move.

She'd never seen anyone look so devastated, so torn.

Wordlessly, Jane stood and made her way across the room. She tucked her book into
her bag and shrugged her coat on. She picked up her bag and looked at Maura with a
mired, tangled expression.

Maura had intended to go to the airport, to drop Jane off properly, but she could see
now that wasn't what Jane wanted.

So this was goodbye.

It occurred to Maura that neither of them had spoken since the sun rose. She was
desperate to hear Jane's voice but terrified of what she'd say.

The silence was safer.

Maura wanted to kiss Jane, to have one last press of her lips before everything
changed, but she didn't know how to break the veil of anger and sorrow Jane had pulled
around herself.

Something urged her forwards anyways. Hesitantly, she moved until she was inches
away from Jane, their bodies almost touching. Jane's breathing shifted, her eyes
darkened.

Leaning up, Maura pressed her lips to Jane's. For a moment, Jane was immobile. Then
she abruptly dropped her bag and crushed her body against Maura's, kissing her with a
ferocity that almost scared Maura, might have terrified her if it wasn't matched by her
own raging passion.

They kissed, tongues clashing, hands gripping tightly, chests heaving, for long minutes
before Jane pulled back. Both women were gasping for air.

Jane's dark, sorrowful eyes called to something deep within Maura but she allowed Jane
to step away, pick up her bag.

Jane licked her lips, looked poised to say something, but she grabbed the doorknob in
silence. She met Maura's eyes again, took a step towards her, but stopped herself.

Maura closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. When she opened her eyes,
Jane was gone.

A tear slipped down Maura's cheek, then another. She cried for what felt like an
eternity, hoping desperately that Jane would come back but knowing she wouldn't.

It was up to Maura now.

She was petrified.

For five days she didn't leave the flat. She couldn't sleep in her own bed, now that it
smelled like Jane. She used one of the remote guest bedrooms, as far from the master
suite as possible.

A week after Jane's departure, Maura noticed the picture she'd bought. The corner of
the paper was pulled back.
Jane had looked at it.

Maura's heart clenched.

She unwrapped the painting carefully, tossing the brown paper aside. The canvas
haunted her. Stepping back, she appraised the painting.

It was in muted tones, a bold tableau of two women, wrapped in each other's arms. One
of them uncannily resembled Jane. The other woman's face was obscured. It was only a
painting, but Maura swore she could tell how deeply in love the two imaginary women
were.

Something shifted inside her.

She could have that, she could have a love so strong people could see it. Or she could
give up on Jane, on herself.

Maura called Angela that night.

"Hello?" the curious voice greeted her.

"Angela?" Maura felt suddenly shy. "It's Maura."

"Maura!" Angela gushed, warmth filling the line. "How are you sweetie?"

"I'm alright," Maura demurred. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Angela replied. "Are you coming home soon? Jane said that she saw you but
wouldn't tell me anything about the trip. Are you angry at her? What did she do now?"

"No, no," Maura halted Angela's words. "I'm not Jane didn't do anything wrong. It's
me. I- we're it's me."

"What are you talking about honey?" Angela's confusion was clear. Maura didn't blame
her- she wasn't making much sense at the moment.

"After everything I did," Maura began. "Jane forgave me."

"That's what you do when you love someone," Angela suggested gently. "You can't
forgive her?"

"No!" Maura exclaimed. "It's not that. I'm having trouble forgiving myself. I uh, I want
to be with Jane."

"Yes!" Angela gushed, interrupting. "Sweetie I'm so happy for you!"

"Thank you," Maura blushed, glad Angela couldn't see it. "I'm not quite sure how to do
that though."

"Well I think you should start by coming back from Paris," Angela offered. "Don't you
think?"

"Yes," Maura agreed. "That's actually why I called. I was hoping you might pick me up
from the airport."
Maura didn't need a ride- she could hire a town car, take a taxi, have her Prius
delivered even. Angela was aware of that.

But this was the only thing Maura could think of to show that she wanted to bring her
friends back into her life. Relying on them, learning to lean on them, admitting to
wanting their help- it seemed like a good place to start.

"Of course!" Angela replied.

Maura gave her the details, and listened for a moment as Angela rattled on about how
excited she was.

A day later, Maura touched down at Logan airport, more nervous than she could
remember being in weeks, years. Her life was about to begin.

When she got off the plane, gathering her Gucci carryon and heading out to find Angela,
she wondered again what Jane would say when she saw her.

They hadn't spoken since Jane left Paris, and Maura hadn't told Jane she was coming
back today. Angela had promised to keep it a secret, although Maura doubted her ability
to keep that promise.

The truth was, Maura didn't quite know what to say to Jane or how Jane would greet
her after their time in Paris.

Maura was sure of what she wanted now, knew it with a bone-deep certainty that
almost frightened her.

She wanted Jane.

No matter the cost, the effort, the time it took- she wanted to be with Jane for the rest
of her life.

Scanning the crowded airport, Maura looked for Angela, flipping open her phone to call
her. A man bumped into her and Maura looked up, startled, murmuring an apology that
died in her throat.

"What's up Doc?" Korsak's soft voice greeted her.

Maura smiled widely, hugging him abruptly. He hugged her back, chuckling softly.

"Good to see you too," he laughed.

"Where's Angela?" Maura asked. She saw Frost out of the corner of her eye. And
Frankie. And Angela.

And then everything in the airport, the city, the world, faded away.

Jane.

Looking nervous, her eyes dark and tumultuous even from a distance, Jane was there.

Maura's breath caught. She was immobile.

But it didn't matter- Jane was approaching her with determined, confident steps.
Instead of stopping at a respectable distance, Jane crushed her body against Maura's,
kissing her breathless. For a moment, Maura froze.

They were in public, surrounded by strangers and colleagues and

And Jane was kissing her, holding her, and nothing seemed to matter in that moment.

She heard Frankie wolf-whistle and pulled back, blushing. Jane didn't back away, her
hand possessively gripping Maura's hip.

"Welcome home," she breathed.

Maura closed her eyes against the swell of emotion building inside her. The others
stepped forwards in turn, hugging and smiling. They gathered Maura's luggage and
loaded into their respective cars and only when Maura was alone in the passenger seat
of Jane's sedan did she realize how badly she'd missed them all.

Jane drove them to her own apartment, a charged silence in the car. As soon as they
were inside, the door barely closed behind them, Jane pinned Maura against the door
and kissed her fiercely.

Jane's hands stole under Maura's shirt to skim warm, smooth flesh. Her lips and tongue
drove Maura insane, forcing Maura to grab Jane's lapels and hold on for dear life.

"I missed you," Jane rasped, punctuating her words with another quick peck to Maura's
lips.

"I missed you too," Maura replied.

Looking at Jane, things didn't seem so confusing, so hopeless. It felt like things would
work themselves out, and that no matter how much they fought or argued she would
always be able to find safety and love in Jane's arms.

And then Maura felt it, the tangled mire of emotions cleared like a bride's veil being
lifted for a kiss.

She was home.