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You didn't have to smile at me by Dianaprince89

It had been 96 six days since Maura had seen Jane, spoke to her, worked with her. Days without seeing the
woman she thought she couldn't live without. And she was right- she was alive, but she wasn't living.

Rated: Fiction M - English - J. Rizzoli, M. Isles - Chapters: 3 - Words: 14,691 - Reviews: 114 - Favs: 303 - Follows:
102 - Updated: Jul 11, 2012 - Published: Jun 18, 2012 - Status: Complete - id: 8230001

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.

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.
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, café, 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.

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