The Mystery Of Maura's Assets
She spends all week trying not to think about it.
When she overheard Crowe sniggering in the break room the other day, her first instinct was to smack him upside the head. But the fact that she's wondered the same thing on multiple occasions makes her stifle the bile that rises up in her throat at the mere thought that the guys at the station sit around thinking about it, too. She's a lot of things, but not a goddamn hypocrite.
Plus, she can't really blame them. Cops get crass when they have a little too much free time. Even the great Jane Rizzoli isn't immune to this phenomenon.
So instead, she lets it slide. Pretends like she doesn't hear anything.
Jane eats, sleeps and breathes her job. When an active case is ongoing, her focus on the details of the investigation is second to none. It's what makes her so damn good at her job.
But when she's not busy with a current investigation (like now), her mind tends to wander back to those older, colder cases.
This one unsolved mystery, in particular, keeps coming back to her time and time again.
It taunts her, even teases her at times. It tugs at her thoughts, making her question certain…things.
It frequently results in a sheen of sweat covering her body on particularly lonely nights.
Seeking out truth. It's what she does best. It's what she's paid to do.
Jane chuckles at that last thought. If Cavanaugh knew how many hours she's spent at her desk mulling over this one question she'd probably get fired.
It's none of her fucking business.
Instead, she mulls this mystery over in her head in secrecy. She glances at the evidence when given the chance.
Every single fucking chance.
She's lost in thought again as she absentmindedly jots down the question in the margin of the sports page that she's been pretending to read for the last 20 minutes as Maura busies herself between the kitchen and the other side of the couch.
Fake or Real?
Internally she cringes at the crudeness of the words. She can't believe she is sitting here thinking about this. Again.
That is, until the doctor saunters by in that silky, oh-so-clingy tank top. The one that accentuates every curve and leaves too much flesh uncovered for Jane's eyes to avoid. She catches herself staring and forces her eyes back down to the paper to scan the box scores for the umpteenth time.
Maura calls out from behind her, "Aren't you done reading that paper yet?"
Her pen stalls for a moment as she ponders the question. She can't even tell you who pitched last night. It will be a total guess if Maura asks her who had won.
"Just about." Jane lies as she does her due diligence and makes a note of the starting pitcher and who came in as relief, just in case Maura takes a sudden interest in baseball.
"You're distracted tonight. Are you thinking about a case?" She settles in on the other end of the couch and swirls the red liquid in her glass, aerating the wine before tasting.
Jane's head snaps up. She hadn't seen the doctor walk behind her she was so distracted in thought.
"Yeah, kinda. Just an old case. Not a homicide or anything." The last sentence is rushed as Jane panics slightly, hoping the doctor will let the subject drop.
Maura nods, appearing to be uninterested.
Jane relaxes slightly, and goes back to the safe sanctuary of her paper.
The doctor, uncharacteristically suddenly fidgety, pushes back up off the couch to walk over to the bookshelf to peruse the titles of the various medical journals on the shelf.
Jane's head remains on the paper, but her eyes follow the doctor across the room, glued to her smaller frame like she has her under surveillance. When she catches herself staring again, she slams her eyes closed. It's safer to just doodle on the paper, she reasons, as she scratches a rudimentary drawing in the margin.
"Well, maybe I can still help." Maura's eyes flit to Jane's empty beer, a silent offer of a refill.
Jane nods in the affirmative against her better judgment, as Maura slips behind her into the kitchen to get her a cold one. The third beer is usually what makes her mind dive completely into the gutter in regards to her best friend.
"Nah, that's okay."
Her eyes float back down to the paper. That's when she notices it-the mindless doodling has resulted in a stick figure with an inappropriately large-sized rack.
When Jane hears the refrigerator door rattle open, she scatters to her feet and slams the damning paper closed. She folds it into a tight bundle as she joins Maura in the kitchen and tosses it into the recycle bin like she's a perp dumping a murder weapon into the harbor. She wipes her suddenly damp palms on her thighs as nonchalantly as possible and spins to face the doctor, accepting the beer with a plastered on fake smile.
Maura takes a sip from her wine glass as she attempts to stifle the smile growing on her face.
"What does your gut tell you?"
Jane falters for a moment before she can answer.
"It's a… not my case, so it's really none of my business."
Maura nods once as she mulls this over.
"But it's affecting you. Do you have any theories? Maybe I could help. I'm used to you bouncing your ideas off of me."
"Nah, it's out of my jurisdiction." Jane rubs at the raised scar on her left hand and hopes Maura will drop the subject.
"Have you had a chance to look at the evidence?" Maura asks as innocently as possible.
Jane shifts uncomfortably against the counter. About a thousand times. A lot more than I'd care to admit.
"Uh…," Jane gulps, "I've had a couple of glimpses, but I don't really have access."
"I bet if you could handle the exhibits, you'd solve the case." Maura takes pleasure in watching the detective squirm.
"Yeah. Yeah that would…uh…definitely help." Jane manages to stutter.
"Maybe you should just ask, Detective." Maura's jaw slides to the side a little as her eyes challenge Jane. The doctor's voice holds a seductive tease as she delivers her next words.
"Is there someone stopping you from furthering your investigation, Jane?"
Jane opens her mouth to say something, but immediately snaps it shut after she comes up blank. Her body is frozen. Fuck.
Maura rolls her bottom lip under her teeth and her eyes dart knowingly down to the discarded paper in the recycling bin.
Jane stops breathing for a moment when she realizes she's been caught. She exhales slowly and deeply as her eyes move from the paper back up to the doctor's expectant gaze. She jams one hand into her pocket as the other nervously rakes through her hair. All she can do is shake her head numbly, her throat too tight to actually form any coherent words.
Maura takes pity on the flustered woman and closes the distance, leaning in to whisper into Jane's ear. The words, foreign in dialect, are spoken softly, but the provocative delivery of the words sends a jolt of desire straight down to Jane's core.
"Non opus licentia quaerere"
Jane slowly shakes her head, the meaning of the phrase unknown. Her voice is low, and it comes out cracked and more gravely than she intends, "What did you say?"
Maura's tongue briefly darts out to wet her lips. "It's Latin, the original Romance language. It means, 'You don't need to ask my permission'."
Jane's jaw tenses and she forces herself to breath calmly through her nose so Maura doesn't see how off balance she has her at the moment.
She shrugs one shoulder slightly, hoping that if she can play dumb she can still weasel her way out of the situation with some of her dignity left intact. This certainly isn't how she wanted Maura to find out about her attraction to her.
Maura locks eyes with the detective. She has Jane right where she wants her and she'll be damned if she is going to let this opportunity pass. She slowly reaches behind her back, underneath the silky material and unhooks the clasp of her bra. She expertly slips one strap down and frees her arm before pulling the lacy scrap of fabric through the shirt and out the opening of the other arm with flawless precision. She lays the discarded bra on the counter without saying a word.
It doesn't take Jane's trained detective's eye to notice the doctor's hardened nipples standing at attention through the thin layer of fabric. Jane swallows and tries not to stare. It's probably just cold in here, she reasons as she forces herself to meet Maura's gaze.
But the doctor's sultry eyes and red flush to her skin has nothing to do with the temperature in the room and everything to do with the heat these two always generate when they are this close, breathing the same air.
Jane reaches out to touch a loose strand of hair that has partially fallen across Maura's face, but she pulls her fingers back at the last minute, realizing that she if she touches her now, she'll be doomed.
Instead, she leans in so Maura can feel the words brush against her skin as each syllable moves the errant tuft of hair against her cheek. The Italian words are delivered sincerely, but without conviction.
"Davvero non mi importa, sono più una da culo."
When she's done, Jane straightens up and a hint of a grin tugs at the corner of her mouth.
Maura has to bite her bottom lip to stifle the laugh.
Jane leans back slightly to look at her, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"Goddammit. You speak Italian, too?"
Maura nods as the laughter finally bubbles through.
"Do you expect me to believe that? Especially after what you wrote in that paper?" Her eyes once again float down to the discarded paper. "'It really doesn't matter to me. I'm more of an ass girl.' I find that hard to believe, Jane."
Jane feels her face redden and she's having a hard time trying to maintain her composure. Her hand nervously rubs at the back of her neck, underneath a mass of black curls before falling limply at her side.
"I don't know what to say…," she starts, but is cut off by the doctor moving closer.
"I hope you plan to do a thorough investigation." Maura lets her hands wind around the brunette's neck as her fingers burrow deep into Jane's long hair at the base of her skull. She pushes forward until the top of Jane's ass is shoved up against the counter and there is no space between their bodies anymore. She closes the final distance with a soft press of her lips to the detective's mouth.
Jane's hands reach out to hold the smaller woman in place at the waist, and immediately slide up until they find bare skin. As the kiss deepens, her fingers move up over toned abs and Jane determines she could happily live here, under the swell of Maura's breasts without ever going further north.
She breaks the kiss off long enough to gulp in some much needed oxygen and to look at her hands under the bunched up material of Maura's top.
Maura senses the slight hesitation, and she knows Jane is struggling to rationalize the meaning of her next move.
She feels a nudge is in order.
"Would you rather I ask Crowe to come here and finish the investigation?" She bats her eyes at the taller woman.
A mischievous grin creases the detective's face as her hands slide confidently up the rest of the way and she gently cups Maura's breasts until she feels each of the doctor's erect nipples against the scars on her palms. She dips her head down to taste the column of Maura's neck with her lips before kissing a trail on her way back up to the doctor's mouth.
"Nah, he can read about it in the report I'll be filing." She raises her eyebrows in question. "This is public knowledge now, you're aware?" Her eyes drift down to her hands and Jane squeezes the flesh filling her palms for effect.
The chuckle is low and sensuous as it works its way up Maura's chest, "I don't see any need to keep this," her finger wags between the two women, indicating the change in their relationship, "a secret from anyone."