Chapter 1 - Betrayal
This is a new story written by me, Laris Neal, and Cristine, prentiss-be-mine. It's Rizzles and I hope you guys like it. Besides, she is the beta of it. I hope we work together very well. Enjoy it!
Disclaimer: We don't own anything. The tv show Rizzoli & Isles and its characters belongs to Janet Tamaro and TNT.
Jane is always able to compartmentalize when involving her cases. Yeah, some are tougher than others, but usually she is able to go home to her overbearing mother with a smile on her face.
Now isn't one of those times.
Her perp shot three women and purposely made them live to see every waking moment of their torture; each slice and tear of their flesh, the victims were forced to be active for. It didn't help that the M.O hit close to home; brunette, middle-aged, successful careers- police officers, doctors, and lawyers. Jane couldn't help but think of her mother.
"Jane, are you okay?" Maura notices Jane's despondence and is worried for her friend. The detective barely ate during their lunch.
"I'm fine, Maur," Jane distantly shakes her head, trying to forget the case, but she couldn't. It affects her too much; this one is too close to home.
The dark-haired detective turns her back on the M.E, not in the mood to talk. She prefers to be alone when things got out of her control; to have the least amount of human contact as possible incase she undeservedly lashes at someone she cares about.
Either Maura doesn't notice the deflection or doesn't care when she holds the detective's waist, and gently lays her cheek on the detective's shoulder.
"Everything is going to be fine, Jane. It's perfectly normal to have an abrupt or embarrassed feeling of turbulence when something affects your personal life. It's not your fault that you're irritable."
Jane groans at that. She enjoys Maura's company, maybe not at this moment, but when her friends speak to her like a science project, it really annoys her.
"No," Jane simply states, moving from the M.E's touch.
The blonde stiffens, feeling rejected by Jane's coldness, but she overlooks it, knowing that it's just Jane's defense mechanism for fear.
"Maur, it's late. You need to go right?"
"Actually I don't," again Maura flinches, but she ignores the dejection. "I'm really worried about you and I prefer to stay with you. Bass is already fed so…"
Jane looks up at Maura. Her brown eyes meets the M.E's, trying to figure out the reason for Maura's desperation to be so close. She likes it, it could be good for her, but she wants to know Maura's real intentions. Times like this are when Maura gets the most emotional, or displays it more prominently than Jane, and Jane doesn't want to get hurt if she reads too much into things. But Maura's a sweet girl at that, so it is understandable that she wants to check on Jane. She is her friend,after all.
"Okay," Jane relents with a mumble, "if you really want to…"
The blonde approaches Jane again, this time her eyes are aligned with the detective's. There is blatant subtext between them, silence that is understood with just a look. She could feel the energy, the sudden itch to touch her, and Maura succumbs into the desire by touching the detective's cheek. She's unsure if the brash detective will accept the sensitive touch, but she overlooks it because it's the right thing to do.
Jane makes a soft sigh at, feeling the electricity pierce her cheek, sending a shiver down her spine. It makes her brown eyes flutter when she feels the closeness envelop her heart. She could feel the blonde's breath, could feel the love and care when their lips collide. Those pink lips are so soft against her own and Jane lets the desire wash over her despair, but it soon gets the best of her. Subtle nips become hungered tongue thrusts, nut Jane knows it's wrong.
"No," she lowly groans as she breaks from the kiss, a sudden draft hitting a spot that was sheathed with Maura's warmth.
"Wha- what's wrong?" Maura blinks appallingly, but the detective's eyes remain on the floor.
"I…" Why couldn't Maura see this is wrong? That she is doing this out of guilt and not from love? And as she tries to come up with a reason, anger strikes Jane because of Maura's naivety and ignorance. "I… damn it, Maura! You're…you're my friend! You're doing it because of the case, not me." Humiliation strikes Jane's angered as she roughly runs her fingers through her dark hair in exasperation.
A plank of embarrassment and betrayal strikes Maura's heart. As much as she likes to think that she is emotionally reclusive, she can't handle when feelings actually come alive within her. And that always seem to happen when she encounters with Jane. And now she can't stay and pretend she's okay, but she will accept Jane's point of view.
Just not in this house.
"If that's how you feel, I am okay with that. I'll…" she distantly shakes her head, "never mind. I have some things around the house that needs to be done. The laundry…my living room is a mess and Bass…he's probably terrified without me." She scurries her words over the other, trying to find some excuse to leave, to cover her wounded heart before it starts to bleed. They both know that Jane doesn't believe her, that Jane sees right through the pathetic façade, but she keeps her head high as she turns to leave.
Jane bites the edge of her lip as she watches the despondent blonde walk away. Fuck!She may not be looking at her, but she could see the blatant pain on her friend's face and guilt smites her because of it.
Maura's back is to the door, ready to leave and leak her tears of humiliation in solitude, and opens it.
"Maura, wait!" Jane blurts in desperation as she jogs behind the blonde.
"What do you want?" the blonde growls, upset that tears evade her eyes.
"I want…I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you; it's just this case and…I'm sorry," she sighs. "Just…please don't go…" she whispers, lightly grabbing the blonde's arm.
Maura knows it would be best if she leaves, but those eyes on her forces her heels to cement the floor. She sees the pain and legitimate regret in those brown eyes, which brings a small smile to her lips.
"When you appear to be on an emotional rollercoaster, you're prone to irritation at a faster rate. And since you are aware of your mood swings, you tend to ostracize yourself from anything with a beating heart."
"It seems like you know me pretty well," Jane smirks, moving closer.
"I think do…" The corners of Maura's lips twitch upward as she closes the distance between their lips, gazing into those beautiful brown orbs, appreciating the confidence healing her wounded heart.
Jane closes her eyes, and makes a smile as those warm lips move with her own. But just like before, their kisses grow more passionate, perhaps even deeper than the first time.
She could feel those hands gracing her hips but Jane softly slaps them away as she roughly grabs the blonde's. She wants to be soft and gentle, like she always dreamed about, but the detective needs to take back control.
Her hands rake through the blonde's full hair as she takes captive of Maura's mouth, muffling her moans of pleasure. With a flick of the wrist, Maura's zipper of her dress is down and a beautiful toned abdomen is revealed. Her body immediately reaches for her toned stomach, groaning at the scorching skin, loving the tingles it brings to her fingertips.
But Jane needs more.
Jane reaches for the back of Maura's thigh and wraps it around her own waist as she lays feverish kisses across her neck and collarbone, and leans her against the door. Jane groans in the blonde's ear as Maura claws the detective's back.
With another flick Maura's dress is pooled around her ankles. Jane stares in awe, transfixed at the beautiful pair of mounds suppressed in a white bra. She couldn't muffle the moan that escapes her lips though she bites down on it. God how she wants Maura, needs her. It still baffles her that she is able to have Maura in her hands, able to feel her warmth within her own.
Maura gasps and fully encloses their bodies as she bites down on Jane's neck, needing to feelthe warmth within her.
After a few hip swivels, movements that drives moans from the doctor, Jane wedges her hand between the blonde's legs, feeling the scorching heat, nearly fainting at the wetness that's waiting for her.
Maura whimpers helplessly when Jane cups her sex, grinding herself into the deft hand, needing more friction- beggingfor it. And just when she feels those fingers slip into her panties, eliciting a stifled cry from the doctor, they suddenly still against her flesh.
"Take me, Jane," Maura whimpers in her ear, trying to move around the stilled fingers. "Please…I-I…n-need you, n-need to f-feel you."
Jane couldn't help but think of Maura's real intentions. If Maura legitimately wants to pleasure Jane, or her reasoning stems from guilt. Does Maura want something out of this, post-sex? This was a big step they were taking and sex couldn't damage a friendship. Damage.As the word captures her mind, Jane then realizes that she couldn't do this. She couldn't lose Maura over a night of foolish guilt-struck desire.
"Maur," Jane mumbles against the doctor's chin as she shakes her head. "I can't…wecan't…please stop." Again she makes a self-deprecated shake of the head as she moves her hands from Maura's warmth and eases from her body.
The blonde doesn't even realize Jane has stopped until she feels the abrupt draft pierce her nearly naked frame. She doesn't understand why there is blatant regret in those soft browns. She still doesn't understand, which is shocking coming from Maura, but what she knows she definitely doesn't like is the return of the piercing plank in her heart. Her lower lip starts to shake, and she could feel tears blurring her vision.
The detective couldn't handle it either. She couldn't face Maura again; face the blatant pain and confusion on the blonde's face. She couldn't face her own heart deteriorate as the weakness begins to show. No, she couldn't show that. Maura has already seen too much of the detective. They were only suppose to be colleagues and that somehow trailed to an opposing friendship, which abruptly leaped to more. It was too much, and Jane couldn't deal with it- not in front of Maura.
Like a petulant child she runs into her bedroom, slamming the door, leaving her half-naked friend alone in her living room.
The harsh slamming of the door causes the blonde's eyes to leak with tears of humiliation, confusion, and downright soreness from her bleeding heart. The sobs roar within her throat as she bends down to pick up her dress, feeling like a used whore as she zips it back up. Because that's what she was to Jane: a whore. The detective left her without hesitation, or even an explanation or a liefor that matter. She just…she was suppose to be her friend.
As she leaves the detective's apartment and slams into her own car, she couldn't stop the humiliation and degradation that swims through her body. How stupid, foolish of her to think that the stoic detective wanted anything out of her besides a few moments of mindless fun. And as much as she likes to think she could be just as reclusive as the detective, the plethora of emotions swarming through her contradicts her needs.
But as she takes a moment to compose herself to the point where she could safely drive, she knows why she never wants to display her emotions.
Because she doesn't want the chance to feel this brokenness within herself ever again.
Jane doesn't want me then fine… I won't be a burden again.