One shot that seemed to decide it needed to be written.
Characters aren't mine. They belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro, Turner Broadcasting, Warner Brothers, and other assorted important people. I gain nothing from writing these stories but the fun of doing it. Please don't sue me.
"You just don't understand," she paced the room, one hand on her hip and the other running over her face in one long, drawn out motion of frustration. "You don't get it, and I don't know how else to put this, Ma."
"What I don't get is why you don't think I don't get it." Angela sat on the sofa of her daughter's small, one bedroom apartment, and watched the lanky young woman pace in front of her. "What's not to get?"
"Everything." Jane threw her hands up in the air out of frustration. Stopping midstride, she turned to face the older woman. "This isn't like the time I told you I wanted to marry Taylor Jackson or when I said that I wanted to take my third grade teacher to our elementary school dance. This is," she made a wild gesture in the air as she rolled her eyes, "something else. It's not a phase. It's not something that'll just go away. I mean, I really think that I'm…"
"A lesbian. Yes, Jane, I get that." With a heavy sigh, Angela scooted over on the sofa and gave the cushion next to her a pat. She waited until Jane complied, carefully sitting down as she watched her mother watching her. After they both were situated, Angela gave a small, sad smile as she reached out to pat her daughter's knee. "I get it, Janie. I get that you think you're attracted to women, and I get that it scares and confuses you because this is probably the first time you've been honest enough with yourself to admit that it's probably true that you are attracted to women, but," she pulled her hand back, resting it in her lap, "it's not the first time I've seriously considered it might be true."
Dark eyes blinked in confusion. Shaking her head, Jane cleared her throat as she tried to think through what her mother was saying. "Why?"
"Because of Taylor Jackson when you were five and Ms. McCuller when you were in the third grade, and," her mother sighed heavily, "Terry Cline when you were in middle school, and Coach Keever when you were in high school. Your father and I always thought you might tell us this one day. We just," she shrugged, unsure of how to express their numerous conversations over the years about their daughter. "Sometimes you just know."
Jane narrowed her eyes. "If you thought I was gay way back then, how come you're always trying to set me up with men?"
"Because, if I had my druthers, I'd rather you date and marry a man." At her daughter's hurt look, Angela gave a small smile of reassurance. "We're Catholic, Jane. You can't expect me to not have some issues with all of this. I've never understood it." Taking in a deep breath, she leaned back against the sofa cushions as she gathered her thoughts. "When I was a young woman, I knew a woman who was like that, a lesbian. Honestly, she scared me a little. She was big and burly and, the first time I met her, I thought she was a man. For a long time, I thought that was how all lesbians were until she started dating the most normal looking and acting woman I've ever known. It took me a while to deal with the idea that they were dating each other, and, after I talked to both of them and really got to know them, I realized that they had both been married to men and had been in really bad marriages."
She turned her face forward, brow knit as she thought about that time in her life. "Once I learned that, I thought that maybe the reason they were dating another woman was because they were afraid of getting into another bad relationship with a man. After a while, I think I just sort of figured that every woman who was a lesbian had had some kind of bad experience with men. But," she slowly turned to face her daughter again, "then I had you, and, from the moment you were about three, I started thinking you might be that way."
"So, you're not surprised, but you're not happy about it?" Jane shook her head. "Is that what you're telling me?"
"I'm telling you that I'm not surprised, and I'm confused by nature, I guess," Angela shrugged. "Jane, until I had you and watched you grow and mature, I honestly thought it was all a choice, but there's no way it can be. I've seen it with my own two eyes now, and I just can't really believe that anyone would choose this." Her frown deepened. "It's a hard life, Jane. It will complicate things."
"My life is already hard and complicated." The detective gave a harsh, bitter laugh. "Why should my private life make it any easier?"
"Why now, Jane? Why are you telling me now?" Angela crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "What's going on that you decided to tell me now about this?"
Jane blew out a stream of air, standing to again pace. She chewed on the edge of her thumbnail as she thought through the answer. Finally deciding on a path, she stopped pacing. "There's something that I'm really… that I have feelings for, and I don't think I can ignore it anymore, so I'm going to talk to her about it."
Angela nodded more to herself than to Jane. "You want me to know about this now in case she has feelings for you, too?"
"Yeah because," again the lanky brunette began to pace, "if she does feel the same way, it's going to get complicated, and it's going to affect you."
"Maura loves you, Jane. I don't think anything will get complicated unless you let it." At her daughter's stunned look, she shook her head and gave a harsh chuckle of her own. "I'm not oblivious, despite what you might think."
Jane winced, realizing way too late that her mother was just as observant as she was meddlesome. "Will you be okay with this?"
"Honestly? I don't know, but, if she makes you happy and treats you right, then I'll learn to deal with it. I can't promise that I'll always react the way you're going to want, but, Janie, I'm your mother. I'll love you no matter what, even if that means you do things I don't always understand." Angela reached out to again give her daughter's knee a pat. "When are you planning to talk to her?"
"I don't know. It's never feels like the right time, and we're always doing something that would…"
"Go talk to her now." After squeezing the knee in her hand, Angela stood up to walk to the door. "I'll stay here tonight and watch Jo."
"You're serious? I can't just go over there and be like, 'Hey, Maura, I totally have the hots for you', Ma! I mean, I can't just…"
"You can go over there and tell her you have feelings for her and go from there. She's there, alone, Jane. She turned down a date tonight because she said she had work to do. I know for a fact that work is something for you because she always puts things for you before anything else. Now, take your overnight bag and go talk to her." The older woman rolled her eyes. "And don't say you have the hots for her, for pity's sake. You're about as smooth of a talker as your father."
"He got you," Jane said through a scowl as she pulled her bag from the hallway closet.
Angela again rolled her eyes. "He got me because he was cute and a good man, despite his bad pickup lines. Too bad he didn't stay that way."
Stepping to the door and picking up her keys, Jane couldn't resist asking, "What? Cute or a good man?"
"Yes," came the all too quick answer from her mother. "Go. Don't come back tonight, and call me tomorrow morning, or I'll come in without knocking by lunch time."
"You know, even if I do get up the courage enough to tell Maura that I have feelings for her, that doesn't mean that we're going to jump in bed together, Ma. I don't think I like how you're thinking. I think you might be spending too much time around Maura."
"You're probably right, which is why I know that she yells out your name when I don't want to know what she's doing." Jane's face went from amused to horrified. "What? Don't look at me like that. The walls are thin, I live in the guest house, and she apparently yelled out 'Jane' instead of 'Steven' the last go around because they had a massive yelling fight, and he left in a hurry."
"Ouch." Despite the words, Jane was smirking. "Okay, I'm going over there, and I promise to call you tomorrow. Good night, Ma, and thank you."
Angela opened the front door, ushering her daughter out. "Don't thank me, Jane. Just go."