Pairing: Jane/Maura

Spoilers: Will eventually contain spoilers for most of Season 1, AU compared with Season 2

AN: For slickchick87. This started out as a oneshot, but ended up becoming a story despite several pauses with the updates. Some inspiration was taken from the Hitchcock film 'Rear Window'. Starting with chapter 12, milk3002 collaborated with me.


Lie and Deny:

Maura had a strategy when it came to Jane Rizzoli: lie and deny.

Constantly swinging between empathetic and socially inept, Maura could read people like a book in one moment and overlook the most obvious social cues in the next. Nevertheless, she was talented at burying her feelings, locking them away to forget about or deal with later.

'My attraction to her is completely physical. We have sex because that is what humans do – bonding with the social group for companionship.' That was the first lie that Maura told to herself whenever she began to question her strange relationship with purposely did not consider the fact that she had no desire to "bond" with Frost, Korsak, or anyone else in her work environment's "social group".

She had been with men before, and it was... standard. She had been with one woman before Jane, and that had also been... standard. 'A small degree of bisexuality is a healthy variation, a normal reference point on the Kinsey scale,' she told herself. Another lie.

But Jane was anything but standard.

'She is a beautiful woman,' Maura reminded herself when the doubts began to creep up on her, threatening to break down the barriers she had so carefully erected and swallow her whole, sending her spiraling into the unknown. 'Many people who see and interact with her are probably attracted to her.'

They rarely talked about it. There were no declarations of love, no illusions of a relationship. In fact, they only incriminating dialogue they had shared in the last few days was a brisk "you left your shirt at my house" from Jane to Maura, since the doctor had borrowed one of hers.

The honey blonde closed her eyes, remembering the swift jerk and tug of Jane's hands as they had ripped her blouse open, not even bothering to remove the lacy cups of her bra before enveloping her nipple in the warm, wet heat of her mouth...

"Maura? Hello, Maura?"

Maura blinked. "Jane."

Sometimes, Maura wished she knew what went on in Jane's head while they were talking normally. Was her friend also having forbidden, erotic thoughts about her? Was she just thinking about her day at work? What did she make of their arrangement? Her thoughts were venturing into dangerous territory, and Maura cut off them off with an abrupt blink of her eyes. "What may I do for you?"

"I'm heading out early. For once, the lovely citizens of Boston have decided to take a break from killing each other. You want a ride? If you're finishing up, that is."

Maura was not ready to finish up, but she considered leaving some work for tomorrow just for an excuse to ride with Jane. The phrase 'want a ride' usually meant that she would be riding Jane's shapely, dexterous hand instead of just sitting shotgun in her car. It also usually entailed spending the night.

'You are not attached to her, Maura...'

And just to prove it, she said, "no thank you, I have more work to do. Then I'll go home and keep Bass and the television company with a glass of wine."

Now Jane knew that something was up. Maura could see it in her eyes. 'Television? That's the best you could come up with? You're supposed to be intelligent. What is the purpose of having all those degrees plastered on your wall if you can't even navigate through a conversation properly...'

"Maura? ... Maura?"

Realizing that she had gotten lost in her own head again, Maura sighed. "Sorry, Jane. I don't know where my mind is today." Another lie. She would lose count if she wasn't careful. Maura knew exactly where her head was – or, more precisely, where she wanted it to be: pressed between her friend's long, smooth thighs, tasting her…

"If you're sure," Jane said hesitantly, her instincts telling her that there was more to Maura's distracted state than she was letting on.

"I'm sure."

Stung by the rejection, Jane turned away, feigning nonchalance as she checked the time on her cell phone. "Well, I'm heading home, then. Joe is probably dying for a run."

Shoving down her want and denying her need, Maura returned to cleaning up her workspace. A click sounded from somewhere near the door. Was that the lock?

Before she could successfully redirect her thoughts, a shadow blocked out the searing fluorescent lighting that hummed over her head. Her eyes widening slightly, pupils dilating – 'it's from the lack of light, not arousal caused by her close proximity,' Maura almost convinced herself – she looked up into the familiar face of her coworker, friend, and sometimes-lover.

And then Jane was kissing her, leaving Maura's brain empty of all analytical questions. She was content to simply feel. Jane's mouth was coaxing and warm and forceful against hers, and before she knew what was happening, Maura's hands were braced against the table and her eyes were closed, lips parting to allow the kiss to deepen.

"Not here," Jane murmured, her kisses wandering to the corner of Maura's lips, ghosting over her cheeks and chin. "It's... disrespectful?"

"What are you talking about?" Maura asked, gasping as a hand gripped her knee, warmth searing through the hose beneath her skirt. It embarrassed her how easily she had succumbed to Jane's advances. She was supposed to be a professional.

"Sex and autopsies shouldn't happen in the same room."

"We are not having sex while I'm at work," Maura said, but even she didn't believe herself, and she was sure that Jane didn't, either. "There are windows here..."

Jane ignored her, tracing a thumb over the inside of the medical examiner's wrist, stroking the skin there and feeling Maura's pulse jump. "Your office has a lock, right? And shutters for the windows." Not waiting for Maura to answer, the detective urged the doctor to follow her with a gentle tug, her other hand pausing to caress Maura's waist. The touch burned even through the fabric of her blouse. No one else's touches had ever made her weak in the knees, stole her breath, made her heart pound...

"Jane, no," she protested, but she found herself being led out of the room and toward what she referred to as "her other office", the place where she dealt with the dead's paperwork instead of their corpses and consulted with her colleagues. But her job was the last thing on Maura Isles' mind at the moment. In fact, she wasn't thinking anything at all except 'this is a terrible idea' and 'why do I have to want her so much?'

In the hallway, Jane removed her hands from Maura's wrist and waist and started for her office, not even bothering to look back over her shoulder to make sure the other woman was following. 'She knows I will,' Maura lamented. 'She knows that I'm completely under her spell. Bewitched…'

Before she could even chastise herself for waxing poetical like the two-dimensional heroine of a romance novel, Jane was urging her through the familiar door of her office and pinning her against the wall, not touching with her hands, but keeping her in place entirely with the force of her eyes. Even though Jane was leading this dance, Maura was tired of waiting. Her struggles had been half-hearted at best, and since she knew she was going to lose herself anyway, she might as well enjoy bliss sooner rather than later. "Kiss me." A demand rather than a request, the words came out needier than she would have liked, but at least her voice didn't break.

Wasting no time, Jane braced herself with her palms on either side of Maura's head, leaning closer, her lips hovering centimeters away from the blonde's, close enough to feel Maura's quick breaths. "So, I've successfully changed your mind about your evening plans?"

"Don't tease."

And then Jane was all over her, fingers tangling in Maura's hair, lips crashing down on hers, a knee pressing up between her legs, lifting the hem of her skirt. The medical examiner let out a short, strangled sob that caught and broke somewhere in her throat, the sound muffled by Jane's demanding mouth as it tortured hers. And the want, the need, burned brighter than a star and threatened to consume her.

Maura was fortunate that she had chosen thigh-highs today, but did not spare them more than a moment's thought as one of Jane's hands, which had released her hair to begin conquering the soft skin of her inner thigh, crept high enough to cup between her legs. Her other hand un-looped the buttons of Maura's blouse, squeezing under the wire of her bra to palm an excited breast, and the back of the doctor's skull cracked against the door as her head fell back and her hips surged forward. She did not even register the pain.

Her own hands did not remain idle, clawing up and down Jane's back, fisting the material of her jacket, then gripping her ass through her pants and squeezing as the brunette's fingers finally, finally found her. She lost her balance and collapsed, and only the press of Jane's torso and the door behind her prevented her from melting into a puddle on the floor.

Tugging aside the slick scrap of her underwear, Jane's fingers danced over her, teasing, exciting her wet flesh until it was swollen and coated in slickness, splashing dizzying splotches of color across her vision. For a moment, they were too distracted to keep kissing, simply breathing into each other's lips and savoring the moment when Jane finally thrust inside of her, stretching the quivering ring of muscle with a delightful burn that Maura had quickly learned to appreciate.

"Oh God..."

"Just Jane."

"Stop talking. Keep going." Maura emphasized her point with another squeeze of her hands, causing Jane to gasp and her fingers to nudge further inside of her, scraping against a ridged place along her inner walls that made her hips jerk unintentionally. Jane felt the reaction and rubbed again, slowly, deliberately, and Maura's insides dissolved.

"You always shiver when I stroke you there." The sound of Jane's low purr against the shell of her ear made Maura's heart trip. She whimpered as the pad of Jane's thumb swiped over the sensitive bundle of nerves above, stroking the stiffening point through its protective hood, making the muscles in her thighs twitch. "And there..."

This time, Maura did not bother telling Jane to be quiet. She was too busy gasping for breath, gliding against curling fingers, sparks of pleasure skittering along her skin with each roll of her hips.

And then Jane's teeth tugged on the lobe of her ear, drawling a warm trail along her jaw and down her throat before fulfilling the teasing promise with a bite at the soft, tender place where her neck ran into her shoulder, soothing warm, salty skin with her tongue.

It was enough.

The first orgasm with Jane – there were almost always more than one – was usually quick. Sometimes, Maura managed to keep her reactions controlled, simply signaling her pleasure with a soft shiver of her inner walls and a hitch of her breath, but this one demanded a full vocal release, and the medical examiner cried out so loudly that a deep, fulfilling burn, not unlike the one between her legs, lit up the sides of her throat.

Before the world stopped spinning, she felt more tension coil in her abdomen, making her close her eyes and bite down on her lower lip. But Jane stopped the movement of her hand, and Maura almost cried. Recognizing the signal for what it was, she reluctantly opened her eyes. It was, perhaps, their only disagreement when it came to sex. Jane always wanted to see Maura's eyes, her face, when she came. Maura would have much preferred to keep them closed. It made her feel less exposed that way, less intimate... which was ridiculous, she told herself, since what they were doing was already pretty intimate anyway... but Jane usually won because she had a bad habit of showing her displeasure by stopping abruptly.

Once she could see Maura's eyes, Jane started moving again, grinding down with the heel of her hand and throwing her lover over the edge a second time. Seconds stretched for what seemed like hours as both women stared at each other, lost for words. Gently, Jane started to remove her hand only to feel one of Maura's pull away from the small of her back and stop her. Maura's fingers closed over hers, keeping her in place. "No, don't. Leave them in. Just for a minute..."

And even a minute later, Maura felt loss and regret when Jane tried to reclaim her hand again, successfully this time. It took her a minute to find her footing (the Prada shoes did not help, but she was grateful that she had not selected her even taller pair of Jimmy Choos).

"So, are you still going home late tonight?"

"No," Maura tried to say, but the words caught in her throat, forming a tight ball. She swallowed it down. "No," she repeated. "I'm going home with you."

Tomorrow, the game of lies and denial would probably begin again. Tomorrow, she would go back to pretending that Jane was nothing more than a friend, that the two of them did not spend more of their off hours together than not, that Jane did not make her feel things she had never experienced before. But tomorrow was a night away, and for now, her defenses had been breached and the lies and denial could wait.

But lately. Lately, it was getting harder and harder to pretend. One day soon, everything was going to come crashing down around her head. Maura wasn't sure if that day would result in her destruction, her rebirth, or both. And then the taste of Jane's mouth made her lips part and her palms ache and her heart overflow with warmth, and the blissful numbness made her forget.