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When Maura remerges from anaesthetic, there are fingers on her face. Strong, bony, long fingers. Fingers that Maura knows because they tangle with her own when Jane is impatient, dragging Maura along with her. Fingers that entwine with Maura's when either one of them is nervous, although Jane is more likely to offer, Jane is more likely to reach for Maura if she thinks Maura needs her, more likely to reach for Maura when she needs Maura.
They're nice fingers. Maura watches them sometimes, absently as Jane mutilates the label on a beer bottle, as Jane throws a baseball into the air and catches it, as Jane rearranges Frost's action figure on his desk.
They feel nice and warm against her skin. She feels cold. She must have shivered because a moment later Jane is putting the thin cotton blanket higher over her, tucking her in with a soft, sympathetic noise.
Then Jane's fingers are on Maura's face again.
Jane doesn't touch Maura while she sleeps usually. They sleep side by side like dolls, like friends. They are friends; Maura knows this as intrinsically as she knows she's a Doyle. Jane is her friend and always will be. And no matter how many members of Maura's family Jane shoots, Maura will always be Jane's friend.
It's comforting. Maura's not quite awake, not quite asleep. Her thoughts are less filtered than usual. Jane's index finger trails over Maura's eyebrows and Maura is so sleepy.
Jane's fingers retreats but before Maura can even whimper at the loss of contact Jane's lips press against her temple.
Jane doesn't often kiss Maura. At gala events, on the cheek, or sometimes to say goodbye or good job or good luck. Jane is tall, so sometimes Maura gets soft forehead kisses, ones that make her chest feel tight and tingley, ones that make her feel small and cherished, ones that make her feel safe and loved. This is one of those kisses. Maura has dim memories of Constance kissing her goodnight as a child, before Maura went to boarding school. It never felt this good. Maura always felt like a burden, like an afterthought.
Maura knows she's neither of those things to Jane. Jane always puts her first, Jane always thinks of Maura first. Maura knows Jane feels like she's the burden on their relationship because she can't financially compete with Maura. Maura doesn't care. She never has cared. When men were after their money they weren't even nice to her. Jane is nice to her and doesn't even seem to know how rich Maura is. She's never asked and always insisted they do events that Jane can cover sometimes, always tries to pay her own way even when the cost of dinner is more than her monthly wage. She's awkward to treat because she truly doesn't enjoy most luxuries. She'd rather go for a walk in the woods or track down a criminal than enjoy a nice Chablis.
Jane's lips linger, then Jane's forehead presses against Maura's. Jane's hand fumbles for Maura's cheek. Her breath lands against Maura's mouth. Jane thumb brushes Maura's lips as Jane pulls back.
"I was so worried. I know you said it was a relatively safe surgery, but I don't like it when you're somewhere I can't be, unconscious and possibly..." Jane trails off and cradles Maura's cheek. "My imagination got the best of me. I can't imagine a world without you in it." There's another kiss, this time above Maura's nose. Jane's hand stills on Maura's face and Maura can almost feel the intensity of the gaze Jane is aiming at her.
She keeps her eyes closed because she's a coward. Because she's tired and confused. Because she doesn't want this moment to end, this moment when Jane is being openly affectionate and so close to saying what Maura so desperately wants to hear her say.
There's a soft knock at the door.
"She's still out, Hope." Jane's voice is low and resigned. Jane has complicated feelings about Hope. Jane is Maura's champion, her knight in shining armour. Jane thinks Hope is someone she needs to protect Maura from.
"It's my fault. She gets the redhead gene from me. I did warn them, but perhaps they overcompensated."
"From what you said, I'd rather they gave her too much anaesthetic than not enough."
"Waking up in the operating room wasn't the most fun I've ever had," Hope admits.
"It makes you a better doctor, doesn't it?"
There's silence that feels like a nod, then a cooler hand in Maura's, a set of unfamiliar lips against her forehead.
"I'm sorry," Hope whispers. "About all of it. Not about you, not that you exist because you're worth every single thing that happened along the way. But I'm sorry I tried so hard to push away the hurt when I lost you that I never looked for you. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I'm so glad you're alive, and I think you're wonderful. I know I can never be your mother, and I can never thank you enough for everything you've done for Cailin, but I'll never stop trying. And I'm so glad you have Jane to take care of you."
Hope retreats, then Jane's hand is back in Maura's.
It's nice. Jane is rarely still or quiet, but she is for Maura as she recovers. There's pain now, in her abdomen, and she whimpers as her eyes open.
They land on Jane, who is watching her with the most impossibly soft, tender look in her eyes.
Maura feels her heart stutter, then hears a warning beep from a machine she's hooked up to. Jane doesn't look away, just rubs her thumb over Maura's knuckles.
"Welcome back," Jane says, trying to smile, trying not to look at Maura like she's the single most important thing she's ever seen but she's too late. Jane gives up and kisses the back of Maura's hand.
Maura's under the influence of drugs, she tells herself, because she tugs Jane closer by the hand until Jane is almost hovering over her, a thick curl escaping from behind Jane's ear and landing next to Maura's ear on the pillow. Maura looks into those dark, soulful eyes and sees Jane's fear and hesitancy, feels her discomfort with the proximity between them but also feels the anticipation, the current between them.
"I can't imagine a world without you in it," Maura repeats to Jane like it's a confession, like it's a vow. Jane inhales sharply as Maura tugs her closer still. She reaches for Jane's face and finds her chin, tilts it down so Jane's face is close to her own. So close she would just have to sit up a little to kiss her--just on the cheek. She moves and her abdomen complains. Jane pulls away and pushes Maura against the bed and presses the call button and the moment is broken by hospital staff running checks on Maura. Jane doesn't leave, although she is asked to, because Maura looks at her with panic and her heart monitor complains. Jane looks worried, concerned, but when she meets Maura's eyes that melts away into the softness Maura so often sees aimed at her.
When the staff are satisfied Maura is doing well out of surgery they dissipate. Maura will be released later in the day but for now she's still in a lovely haze.
Jane comes back to Maura's side. She tangles her fingers in Maura's and clears her throat.
"Were you going to..." Jane trails off. She can't even say it.
"Kiss you? You kissed me first. Twice."
"On the forehead."
"I was aiming for your cheek."
"You were looking--" Jane cuts herself off and touches her lips. "You were looking at my mouth." Her voice is low and almost reverent.
"I just had surgery," Maura points out. I don't feel normal yet."
Jane's eyes meet hers. There's something there, the intangible thing Maura can't name.
"If I was going to kiss you, I'd want to remember it." Maura hadn't meant to say that.
"They said you might not remember anything from coming out of anaesthetic, didn't they?" Jane fiddles with Maura's fingers, looking down at their joined hands.
"Might not," Maura agrees. "And while you'd give me a free pass from being loopy on drugs, I'd rather remember."
Jane's breath catches, then she cups Maura's cheek. She looks down at Maura. Maura should feel small and helpless because right now she is, but she doesn't because Jane is her protector, Jane is her safeguard.
Jane leans down and gives Maura plenty of time to object. Maura has no objections.
Jane tastes of hospital cafeteria coffee and candy. Her lips are soft and sweet. Not too much pressure and not too little.
Jane's not big on perfection, but she's nailed it first try. Maura's never kissed another woman; she's always wanted to. It's better than she expected, and she had high expectations. Jane knows her completely; Jane is soft without being needy, hard without being harsh. She's strong without expecting Maura to be weak. She is protective and loving and perfect.
Jane pulls away and tucks her errant hair behind her ear. Her fingers stroke through Maura's hair. She smiles down at Maura.
"What if I don't remember?" Maura wants to remember because it's the nicest thing that's ever happened to her. Jane shrugs and blushes.
"That one was your free pass."
"And the next?"
"That's up to you. But I'm glad you want a next."
Maura yawns and Jane smiles down at her like she thinks Maura is adorable. Maura's eyes drift closed, warmed at the thought of what comes next.
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The first time it was in Jane's work vehicle. Maura was sitting in the passenger seat and Jane was driving and gesturing to the traffic build up.
"It's so annoying. A car stops on the side of the road and everyone slows down to look at it. And people steer where they're looking, so a situation that wasn't fatal now has a bunch of dead people all squished up in metal for no good reason other than people can't mind their damn business. Ugh--"
Jane's arm shot out across the car, across Maura's chest as Jane slammed on the brakes; the car in front of them had veered off the road, corrected, then slammed to a stop.
Maura was jolted forward, Jane's arm acting as a safety brace for her so she didn't hit her head on the windshield; the stop was that sudden and she'd had no warning.
"Christ," Jane swore, and thumped the wheel. "Even if I turn the lights and siren on, we're not getting anywhere in this."
Maura looked down. Jane's forearm was still across her chest, compressing Maura's breast tissue and wrinkling her blouse. She coughed politely.
Jane turned her head. She looked down at her arm, then across to Maura's chest, and her entire face turned red.
"Shit, sorry." Jane withdrew her arm and placed her right hand back on the wheel. "I got two brothers and a mother that drives like a maniac."
It was sweet, really. Jane always had been protective of Maura. It was instinctual, like the way Jane's hand grazed Maura's back when they were in proximity to alert Maura of her presence without interrupting her.
"It saved me from facial contusion, which I always appreciate."
Jane gave her a grin, and Maura straightened her blouse. Jane's eyes caught the movement and she blushed again.
"We're moving," Maura said, nodding her head at the windshield. Jane didn't look away until the car behind them honked, then she gave them the finger even though she was in her work vehicle.
The next time was after the Dirty Robber. Jane was chipper despite the morbid day they'd shared. No conviction, even though they knew he'd done it.
"You did the best you could with what you have," Jane said, stumbling as she unlocked the door to her apartment. "No one would have gotten that conviction on that evidence. You did everything you could." She closed the door behind Maura and rubbed her back. Maura pulled off her coat; Jane's apartment complex wasn't well-heated but her heavy winter coat was too heavy to wear inside.
Jane helped with the buttons of Maura's smaller jacket, but she'd had a few beers and her hands were unsteady and wandered across the expanse of Maura's chest like an orienteer with a prank compass.
"I'm drunk," Jane said, and she laughed. "Sorry." She stopped trying to help until Maura had unbuttoned herself, then helped Maura pull it from her shoulders and hung it on the rack. Then Jane turned to her own overcoat, her hands slipping, her fingers unsteady.
"When it's cold, my hands remember what he did to me," Jane whispered. Maura had come closer, tugging the thick toggles from the pulls of Jane's coat; an option that made them easier for Jane's hands but not easy enough; not tonight. Jane's breath was warm against Maura's bare, cold ear, and she shivered; not from the cold. Jane stood and passively waited for Maura to undress her--no, for Maura to take her coat and hang it on the rack alongside her own. Jane wore a hoodie underneath and made no attempt to remove it.
Jane's unsteady hand touched Maura's cheek, then brushed some hair behind her ear. Jane's hands were warm from her gloves, and her touch was surprisingly steady and tender.
"It's not your fault. You're perfect."
Maura's heart thumped hard in her chest for some reason; she wasn't perfect. Jane was lying to her again.
But Jane was looking at Maura like she was perfect so she ducked her head, letting Jane's hand drop from her face, and she tucked her lower lip between her teeth before looking back up at Jane again.
Jane glowed in the dim lights she left on when she went out. Her dark hair was loose and unruly, and her eyes were soft, her lips slightly open.
Maura released her lip and laughed.
"I'm not, I promise," she said, feeling flattered. Jane's grinned at her and Maura laughed again.
"I promised you dinner but it just now occurs to me that I have only condiments in the fridge. How do you feel about pizza?"
"It originated in Naples, Italy, in the eighteenth century, so it's a traditional Italian meal." Jane groaned and rolled her eyes, but she didn't stop smiling.
"Yes or no," Jane said, and Maura nodded. Jane stepped away and called a number that was clearly on speed dial on her phone; there was only one beep from Jane's touchpad, then the ringtone.
Maura felt Jane's retreat; she'd been radiating warmth, and Maura shivered and followed Jane to the kitchen.
---
The next time they were at Maura's.
"That bra you were wearing is pretty fancy for work," Jane said, dishing out the Chinese she'd picked up on the way home. They'd gotten covered in grease in the workshop and had to wash down in the precinct gym showers. Even now, Jane still had an endearing smudge on her cheek, and another up by her temple. "Isn't it uncomfortable? All that lace?"
"Fashion is uncomfortable, Jane, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make." She looked Jane over; she was in leggings that clung to her hips and highlighted an ass Maura hadn't quite expected her to have, even though she'd seen it before. She wore a hoodie over a tank top, half-unzipped. Her bra had been plain black but Maura had found it hard to tear her gaze away. Jane looked comfortable, and that was sexy.
Maura shook her head. She'd been having the thought a lot lately.
"I find lace so itchy, though." Jane's nose scrunched adorably. "And I know you have some sensory issues."
It was sweet that Jane remembered anything Maura brought up in conversation.
"It's fine. I like how it looks."
Jane mumbled something to herself, then blushed so deep it went up to her hairline and down to the neckline of her tank top. Maura watched her inquisitively.
"I mean, you have so much more than me," Jane mumbled. "So it must be uncomfortable."
It was true; Jane's breasts were smaller, but Maura thought they were lovely and fit Jane's more athletic form.
"And heavy," Jane added, washing her hands at the sink and handing over the special chopsticks Maura preferred even though the set was technically identical; Maura preferred the one with the slight groove from her finger wearing down the patina.
"They're not. Or I don't notice."
"Doesn't your back hurt, lugging those things around?" Jane joked. She rounded the counter, and then her hands were on Maura's breasts, assessing them, feeling the heft and weight of them.
Maura stopped breathing.
Jane met her eyes a moment later. She'd blushed even more somehow.
"Just--just checking," Jane said. "It's something girls do, isn't it?"
Maura didn't know what girls did, but no girls had ever done this before. Jane's hands still cupped her; Maura was back in a plain skin tone cotton bra beneath her blouse, but the fabric felt so thin with the warmth of Jane's hands touching her.
"I suppose so."
Jane retreated, then dropped her hands slowly. Almost reluctantly.
"Dinner's ready," Jane said, turning away, but Maura noticed she didn't pick up her chopsticks until her hands had stopped shaking.
--
The next time was in Jane's bed. Maura had cried herself to sleep in Jane's arm. The place she'd always felt safest.
Jane's arm was over her, rubbing her back.
"Can you--can you hold me?" Maura's voice broke. She rolled over and Jane pulled Maura against her front.
Her hand didn't stop rubbing.
It was comforting. Too comforting for Maura, sleepy now, worn out by her long day and crying spree, to ask her to stop.
She didn't want Jane to stop.
But Jane did. She noticed when Maura's nipple hardened under her touch, then realised what she'd been doing. She froze, completely stiff against Maura's back.
"It's what girls do, isn't it?" Maura said, her voice low. Maura had seen what girls did to each other in Merch, and she'd been very interested, but Jane kept insisting that she wasn't that kind of girl. Jane relaxed, but she moved her hand down over the soft cotton of the tee Maura had stolen from Jane the first time she'd stayed over. It was in a drawer of its own--not its own, it shared the drawer with the other clothes Jane had set aside for her, the clothes Maura left here.
Jane exhaled, and Maura realised she'd been holding her breath. Jane's hand rubbed over Maura's stomach instead, and that was somehow worse, it made Maura clench in anticipation for something Jane would never, never do.
---
The next time, Maura had been cornered by a doctor at an event. Jane came up from behind her, then slid an arm around her, resting it on her hip.
"Sweetheart, they need you at the front desk. Some problem with the guest list." Maura could feel Jane's disdain for the man she spoke to seeping out of her. "If you'll excuse us." Jane pulled Maura closer still, the form of her body pressing against Maura deliciously, the way it always did when Jane pretended to be her girlfriend. Maura wasn't ashamed to admit it was often, or that it made her feel like a princess. She sank back into Jane, enjoying the embrace.
"I'll follow you," Jane said, her lips brushing Maura's ear. "Unless you were enjoying yourself?"
Maura snorted in an unladylike way, then shook her head. She wove her way through the crowd with years of practice allowing her passage even through the most crowded events.
"I, uh," Jane blushed when they got to the hallway. "I got you a corsage."
It wasn't a corsage event, but Maura let Jane carefully slide it onto the breast of her dress. She let Jane claim her in public because for all intents and purposes, Maura was Jane's.
---
"Would it be okay if we kissed?"
Maura turned, her hands covered in flour. She looked at Jane.
"I've been thinking," Jane said, desperately trying to fill the silence she'd created. "And I mean, I like you more than any guy I've ever met. We practically live together. You're my plus one to everything, and even though we spend the whole day together my heart gets a little lift when I think about when I get to see you again. I guess I'm saying I'm a little obsessed with you. And I'm sorry if that makes this weird or you don't feel the same way. But I spent most of my life thinking there was something wrong with being gay until Robin set me straight--well, not straight. You know what I mean. And now that I'm not all judgemental, now that I've had time to think about things, I think maybe I'm not that straight either."
"You're certainly fascinated by my breasts," Maura mused. She should have seen this coming. She washed her hands and dried them on a hand towel. She walked over to Jane and stopped in front of where she slumped on her usual stool at Maura's counter. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Are you going to kiss me?"
Maura held her breath. For all Jane had said, she looked torn for a moment, then she looked at Maura and her entire countenance softened, the way it always did when she looked at Maura. Jane reached out slowly and touched Maura's cheeks, then cupped them, then she leaned in slowly enough that it was obvious that she was waiting for one of them to change their mind.
Maura waited; she didn't want to scare Jane off.
It paid off; Jane's lips met hers so tentatively, with such uncertainty that Maura pressed forward, opening her mouth and her heart to Jane, who was shaking. Jane's hands slid down to her waist and Maura pressed herself against Jane as she stood; the whole lanky length of her pressed against Maura. Maura let out a low moan that made Jane smile against her lips, that made Jane move her hands to Maura's hips and the swell of her ass.
"I always took you for more of a breast girl," Maura said when she pulled away. Jane's hands squeezed her ass.
"I'm a Doctor Maura Isles girl, end of," Jane said, breathless and flushed.
Maura chuckled and unbuttoned her shirt, and she was immediately quantified by Jane's eyes sliding down, Jane's mouth dripping open, Jane's hands cupping her.
"I'm always right," Maura told Jane, when Jane's eyes slid back up to hers.
"I love that about you," Jane said. "I love you."
And Jane spent the rest of that night--and the rest of her life--proving that, along with proving Maura right.
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I’m definitely all 3🤪🤪🤣🤣🤣
There are three types of Rizzles Shippers:
Family Rizzles Shippers


2. Romantic Rizzles Shippers



3. Then there’s the Horny Rizzles Shippers



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LMFAO🤣🤣😭😭😂😂
Dr Isles EXACTLY where she should be :)
drislesinplacessheshouldntbe
#THIS IS THE BEST THING IVE SEEN ALL DAMN DAY#🤣🤣🤣🤣#rizzles fanart#go maura#lmao#maura isles#jane rizzoli#jane x maura
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Stunning as always!! 🙌���❤️❤️
Maura only registers love as physical touch.
It's why she enjoys sex so much. It's the only time she feels loved, even if what's happening isn't love, or even very loving. It's the chemical response to the closeness that she finds addictive, but she finds she doesn't really like any of the men enough to keep them around once they've served their purpose. They're dull or arrogant or childish.
She notices the first time Jane touches her. It's a defensive little movement, one that prevents Maura from slight harm. Then it's Jane's hand on her lower back as they look at evidence, then it's Jane's scarred, damaged hands touching hers to hand her a packet of tuna and crackers after midnight.
Maura still seeks men. She hasn't figured it out yet. But she's less inclined to go out to find someone to make her feel something - anything - when Jane is sitting next to her on one of their couches, their legs brushing. She feels less urges on days when Jane hugs her because hugging Jane feels more like being loved than Maura ever knew it could.
The first time Jane saves her life, Maura clings to her. She hears Jane whisper comfort to her, feels Jane's hands brush over her, feels how their bodies want to weld together. Maura holds no religion but it feels like heaven to her.
It feels like love.
It makes her cry and the more she cries the closer Jane holds her. The more sweet nothings Jane brushes against her ears, her lips soft and sweet against Maura's hair. The more Maura feels herself melting. She sighs and Jane pulls away. Maura expects it to hurt, but Jane's eyes meet hers with everything she's been looking for and has never been able to find.
It's love, and Jane wipes the tears from Maura's face, and then her own.
"It's okay. You're safe," Jane says, and Maura believes her because her voice is low and raw and raspy and her eyes are worried and affectionate and she holds Maura like she's something precious and delicate and it's okay because Jane is there, because Jane is with her, because Jane is touching her all in the ways she never knew she needed.
What Jane touches is her heart.
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My hearttttt🥹🥹
“Marry your best friend. I do not say that lightly. Really, truly find the strongest, happiest friendship in the person you fall in love with. Someone who speaks highly of you. Someone you can laugh with. The kind of laughs that make your belly ache, and your nose snort. The embarrassing, earnest, healing kind of laughs. Wit is important. Life is too short not to love someone who lets you be a fool with them. Make sure they are somebody who lets you cry, too. Despair will come. Find someone that you want to be there with you through those times. Most importantly, marry the one that makes passion, love, and madness combine and course through you. A love that will never dilute - even when the waters get deep, and dark.”
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🥹🥹🥹
Maura thinks of Jane every time she has a human heart in her hands. Severed arterials, the scrape of a snapped ribcage, the blood that no longer pumps through a circulatory system.
Maura misses Jane; more than she should, as they have been polite colleagues more than friends for the past few years. She'd thought Paris was going to be Something, that Something would finally happen, but Jane just kept looking at her with those big doe eyes and never said anything. Never touch Maura. Never once, in eight - nine years - never once said she loved Maura.
Maura didn't know what love felt like. She knew attraction and affection, she knew anger and disappointment. She knew what a human heart felt like, cradled in the palm of her hand. Mostly because she cradled one gently right now, examining the tear. An undiagnosed hole. She knew how it felt; metaphorically, of course, because her chest scans had all come back too perfect to explain this pain in her chest since Jane had left.
She works longer hours than she used to. She sees Susie in the shadows sometimes, her beautiful dark eyes watching Maura slice everyone else open. She's good, if macabre, company.
Maura contemplates the heart again. So fragile it needs a cage to dwell in, but so strong it sends blood hundreds of miles every hour. She doesn't believe in miracles, but the heart comes pretty close.
"That might as well be mine, the way you hold my heart," a familiar voice comes from nearby. Maura doesn't flinch; it's her thirtieth hour at work. She often hears Jane's voice haunting the halls. But when she weighs the heart and makes note of the location and depth of the tear in the connective tissue, she sees Jane.
She's in a suit - a proper one, tailored to her hips and waist. There's a visitor's badge on her hip instead of a gun, which means this isn't a hallucination. The Jane of her dreams wears a gun and sometimes little else.
Maura slides on fresh gloves and continues emptying the abdominal cavity.
"You're not happy to see me." Jane's voice is flat and disappointed. "Well, I guess I deserved that. And worse."
Frost doesn't show up in the morgue; he'd always hated it down there. He shows up at his old desk. The blue gardian action figure never moves around; Frankie inherited it and Frost's desk.
Maura doesn't see dead people. She's just very, very tired.
"I'm working, and you shouldn't be in here," Maura says. Her voice is sterner than she intended but also more resigned. "Visitor's pass is only good for my office."
Jane slinks away like Maura has yelled at her. Maura completes the autopsy and scrubs up after putting the body in cold storage with the help of Todd. He prefers nights. He doesn't like people, although he tolerates Maura. He liked Jane.
Maura liked Jane. No, Maura loved Jane.
And Jane is in her office. Maura can sense her pacing before she even opens the door, but Jane is sitting sedately on the couch, looking down at the scars on her hands. Maura has assumed it's night but her watch tells her it's day again and she wonders how long she's been working.
"You look exhausted." Jane's voice is concerned. "When did you last sleep?"
"Tuesday?" It's a question. It's a guess; Jane loves those. She doesn't love Maura. Maura feels a fist slowly clench around her heart. "I don't see how it's any of your business."
"You are my business," Jane says, her voice so low that Maura's heart cracks. It's too late. Jane is relying on a shared past rather than their current relationship. They're acquaintances, if that. It was Jane's choice to pull away, and Maura let her.
"Not any more," Maura says. Her voice is steady. She could use some sleep but Jane is on the couch. She wants, more than anything, to lie down with her head in Jane's lap and have those strong fingers smooth through her hair, to rub the stress from her forehead and shoulders. Instead she sits at the desk, the sturdy wood between Jane and herself. "What do you want, Jane?"
"What I've always wanted. I want you."
Maura shakes her head. Hallucinations are common after a certain number of hours awake. Even though Jane is dressed and wearing a visitor's badge doesn't mean she isn't a hallucination. Jane would never say something like that. Jane has never, never wanted her.
"Can I take you home? You shouldn't drive like this."
"And you shouldn't drive at all. You're not real. You're not really here. You're not here."
Maura panics and calls Washington. They say Jane is on leave.
Of course they'd say that. Maura is nothing to Jane. She's not next of kin. She turns back to Jane.
"I loved you, you know," she tells Jane's ghost. "More than I ever thought a human heart was capable of. I thought it was all hormones and chemistry but it was my heart."
Jane looks worried. There is a reddish brown stain at her waist and her throat and her hands; all her old wounds are breaking open and bleeding on Maura's floor and couch.
Jane always was a slob, was Maura's last thought before darkness took her.
+++
Maura wakes on her own couch to the smell of roasted coffee. She wakes to hushed voices arguing. She wakes to Jane's face peering anxiously down at her.
"Ma said you'd thrown yourself into your work when you came back. She's worried about you. I'm worried about you."
"You've never cared about me." Maura takes the coffee and avoids the look on Jane's face; she might as well have slapped her.
"I might not have been able to say it, but you know I care about you, don't you?" Jane says. She crouches at Maura's feet, looking up at her. "It's why I'm here."
Maura's lived a life feeling unloved and lost. She doesn't know what to say.
"I don't."
"You don't care, or you don't know I care?"
Maura shakes her head and drinks her coffee, avoiding Jane's gaze. She remembers now all the things Jane used to do for her. Her comforting touch, the way she'd stay with Maura when something bad had happened, the way Jane used to hold her.
Used to, as in not for years.
"I'm a coward. You know that."
Maura has seen Jane throw herself off a bridge. She's seen Jane shoot herself. Jane's no coward.
"I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't know how to even admit it to myself. But it's always been you, you know that, right?"
She still hasn't said anything, still hasn't admitted anything. Maura sips again; the coffee is good. Jane paid attention to the details.
"I - Christ. I -" Jane doesn't manage to say what she so wanted to say. She reaches for Maura's hand instead. "Why is this so hard?"
"Because you're not really here," Maura says. "I'm hallucinating again. It's common in people who don't sleep, and I haven't slept since you left. I haven't felt safe since you left."
"I'm a hallucination, huh?" Jane's lips twitch as though she finds that amusing. "I think you should go back to bed."
Maura checks her watch. She should be working. But none of this is real. But she should be working; it's the only thing that makes sense since Jane left. It's the only thing that fills the void Jane left.
"Will you come with me? I'll keep you safe. I promise."
Maura nods; she always believes Jane even though she knows Jane lies. She lets Jane help her to her feet and up the stairs, and then out of her shoes and dress and onto her big soft bed. Jane even uses the facial wipes Maura keeps at the bedside for nights too late for skincare. Jane hovers over her.
"As long as I'm a hallucination," Jane says, and then her eyes soften. All her shields drop and she looks at Maura like she is the single most precious thing in the world. Jane leans down and kisses her, just a press of lips against Maura's. "I've always loved you," Jane whispers, her fingers brushing Maura's hair out of her face. "I was scared. I've been so scared. But a life without you in it isn't worth it. I had to tell you. If you hate me I can leave again, knowing I tried. I'm a coward because I never tried; I had so much to lose. You were too much to lose."
Maura's eyes slip closed. Hallucination Jane is kinder than Jane ever was. She always is.
+++
Maura wakes nearly a full day later. She's cold; her immune system hasn't been coping with her long hours. She shivers and digs out a big, fluffy robe that Angela bought her for Christmas one year. It's not her aesthetic, but it's thick and soft and warm. She showers, aware of the smell of her own body. She puts on pyjamas and calls out sick, then heads down to the kitchen for some hot lemon water. There should still be lemons in the bowl on the counter; they're about the only fruit TJ won't eat.
Jane's there. She's not watching the tv or doing anything. She's just there. Haunting Jane. Maura needs to call Washington again; if they've told Angela she'll need to be comforted. Everyone will be devastated, but Maura is numb.
She's been numb since Jane left.
She makes lemon and honey and yawns so hard she feels her jaw shift. Jane watches, the way Susie does in the lab.
Maura knows Jane will haunt her everywhere. She was in every element of Maura's life; her home, her car, her work. Boston is filled with the ghost of Jane.
"I missed you," Jane says quietly and Maura shrugs.
"I didn't go anywhere."
Jane chuckles but she's hurt rather than amused. Maura wonders who got to cut her open, if they were careful with her magnificent heart.
"I shouldn't have left."
"You shouldn't have." Maura would never have said this to Jane when she was alive. But she's not so it doesn't matter. She vaguely remembers a kiss. She wants to remember a kiss, so she takes one from Jane. She closes in on her and sets her mug down, pushing Jane against the counter. She looks up into a face she once knew so well and sees only -
An emotion she doesn't know. She sees all the love Jane had hidden over the years, all the cues Maura didn't take to confess her own feelings.
She's angry at herself, at Jane. Her mouth is hard and closed when it meets Jane, like a bullet into flesh. She wonders where Jane's body is, if she's in cold storage somewhere. If she's being cut open at that moment.
Jane kisses her back so softly that Maura's entire heart shatters in her chest. She knows it's not real but Jane is soft and warm and yielding in Maura's arms; she kisses like it's something she's wanted to do for a long time.
Maura can't stand it. Her brain has failed her once. She can't stand it. She pulls away.
"I've always loved you," Jane says, and her voice is so tender and honest, her fingers gentle on Maura's cheeks. "Always."
"And you waited until you were dead to tell me."
Jane looks surprised, like she doesn't know she'd dead yet.
"I'm not dead," Jane says. "I came home because I was worried about you. I came home because I felt so guilty."
Maura rolls her eyes.
"Why do you think I'm dead?"
"I see Frost, sometimes," Maura says gently. "Susie, too. I figure it must have happened last night. Washington said they couldn't locate you."
"They're not supposed to give out my location. But i assure you, I'm not dead. You're seeing dead people? Is that to do with your Chiari?"
Maura shrugs; Jane doesn't care. Jane isn't here.
"What can I do to convince you this is real? Or should I take you to the hospital?"
"Probably the hospital. I don't feel very well. You can't drive though; you're not real."
Jane doesn't complain this time.
+++
Maura wakes. There's an IV in her arm and Jane holds her hand. Jane is slumped in the same suit she'd worn to the morgue, asleep with her head lolled back against the single chair in the room. Maura head hurts.
A doctor comes in and explains the surgery they did. She explains she can still see Jane.
"Of course you can. She's been here all night."
"You can see her?"
The doctor nods and makes a note on her chart.
+++
Maura wakes. Jane is smiling down at her. The smile broadens when she sees Maura looking up at her.
"Hey."
Jane helps her sit up.
"They fixed it. They missed something last time."
That means no more sweet Frost, no more smart Susie. Not that they were ever really there but they'd been good company in Jane's absence.
"You're really here?"
Jane nods and lets her fingers brush Maura's cheek.
"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
"Good," Maura says, and she falls back asleep.
+++
It takes weeks for Maura to adjust to being alone in her own head. She watches Jane hawkishly but she never shows any signs of not being real, and Angela and Frankie respond to her in ways they don't respond to Frost. Maura had seen Frankie sit on Frost at least twice, but Frost had always joked about wanting a lap dance anyway.
It's hard. She feels alone, even though Jane has moved in with her. Jane always looks on the verge of saying something but she never does. She just watches Maura with wounded doe eyes and Maura wonders if there's something she's forgetting.
She remembers the kiss too late. Almost too late.
"I kissed you," Maura says one night. Jane is in soft cotton clothes to sleep in and her hair is its old untamed mess. Jane doesn't meet her eyes. Maura's heart sinks. "Oh. Oh. I'm sorry."
Jane's eyes snap to hers. Her mouth tightens like she wants to say something, then her shoulders slump.
"Don't be. I was too late, wasn't I? I'd already hurt you. And it wasn't like you thought I was alive at the time."
"I just figured there was no way you'd have let me if you were alive. And all the rest. I don't know. I don't really remember."
"That's a shame," Jane says lowly. "It was really nice."
"It was?"
"It was everything I'd hoped for. And I'd hoped for a lot. It was worth coming home for, even if your brain is fixed now and you don't need me. I'll find somewhere else to live soon, once you've fully recovered."
"I don't want you to live anywhere else," Maura says before she can think about it.
Jane's smile is tentative, like she knows she can't fix everything overnight. But she's not running away any more.
"It's always been you," Jane says, and she sits up. She looks at Maura's mouth, then back up to her eyes. "And now that I'm real, I'd like to start making it up to you."
Maura tilts her head in consent, and Jane cups her cheek and wends her fingers into Maura's hair. She exhales and Maura feels it on her lips, in her lungs, in her heart. Jane's lips brush hers and Maura's breath and heart catch, then resume. Jane's lower lip caresses Maura so gently that Maura's eyes water with the tenderness of her touch. Maura finds herself moving closer, finds her lips and heart opening to Jane. Jane feels so good; her touch is gentle and reverent and her lips are soft and delicate.
Jane pulls away; not far she presses her forehead against Maura's.
"I missed you. It felt like I broke my own heart." Jane's tone is low and raw and honest, and Maura pulls herself close, forcing Jane to hold her the way she used to.
She settles her head against Jane's chest and listens to the healthy heart of the woman she loves.
#such a beautiful story!!#your fics give me LIFE#julieverne#rizzles fanfic#rizzoli & isles#fanfiction
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#agreeeeed#this was super traumatic and the writers just wanted them to make light of it and laugh it off🙃#this show could’ve been sooo much more#rizzles#jane rizzoli#Maura isles#rizzoli & isles
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I ship two very serious professionals
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Jane + sweatpants & hoodie (anon request)
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