MMOM FIC: "Between What Is and What If," Jane Rizzoli/Maura Isles, explicit
Title: Between What Is and What If
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles
Self-Lover: Jane Rizzoli
Spoilers: No More Drama in My Life (S3 finale)
Words: 2,633
Date: May 21
The post to suggest future pairings/stories!
Summary: Jane realizes she may have missed her shot when she discovers Maura has a girlfriend.
AO3 link
Jane entered her apartment, feeling like a losing team trudging back to their locker room dazed by thoughts of what the hell went wrong. In her case she knew what went wrong. She'd thrown the game by choosing not to play. She told herself there were infinite innings, so she didn't have to worry about running out of at-bats before--
She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and killed the metaphor. She was home, in her own apartment, and not at Maura's as she had planned. It shouldn't feel like a defeat. She spent four nights of the week at her own place, on average. Okay, maybe sometimes it was only three or two. But on average, she split her time between staying at home and crashing on Maura's couch. The Home for Wayward Rizzolis, they called it semi-jokingly. But tonight, when she casually asked what they'd be having for dinner, Maura had hesitated before answering.
"Actually. I hate to say this, but could you maybe... not come over tonight?"
"Something wrong?"
"No, not exactly, but I need my kitchen for something else. I'm sorry. I know I've opened my door to you and your family, but tonight I--"
"Hey. It's your home, and you can tell us to get lost once in a while. But now I'm more curious about why I can't come over."
Maura pressed her lips together. "I... have a date."
Jane widened her eyes, the seed of dread that would later blossom into full-fledged angst starting its growth deep in her chest. "Oh? Anyone I know?"
"Yes. Do you remember the case a few weeks ago with the man who was found dead in his garage? I determined it was a suicide, and his sister Anna came in to identify the body?"
"Vaguely."
"She was so shaken that I sat with her in my office for about half an hour to make sure she was all right. A few days ago she invited me out to coffee as a thank-you, and she asked me to dinner."
"Oh..."
"That's not a problem, is it?"
"Why would it be?" Jane tried to act nonchalant as she backed toward the door. "Have fun on your date. Ma and I can take care of ourselves for a night."
"Jane..."
She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, confirming her fears that she had nothing to eat outside of the Leftover Delivery and Hodgepodge Sandwich Stuff food groups. She sniffed the Chinese and put it aside to be thrown out. She thought about what sumptuous meal Maura would have served, and that thought mutated into a realization that Maura was probably cooking for Anna.
She tried to remember the woman, uncapping a beer as she conjured the image in her mind. Petite, dark. Something about her seemed Greek, with the coloring and the green eyes hinting at something Mediterranean in her background. On the day she came in and Jane escorted her down to the morgue, she'd been dressed in a red blouse under a gray vest, pinstripe pants, and high heels. Probably came directly from work, clutching her purse strap as she was escorted into the scariest part of the police station for a law-abiding citizen.
Then she left, and Maura had made a connection. Comfort and hand-holding, then coffee, and now dinner. She took another drink. And coffee would lead to... She slammed shut a thick door on that, threw the... the spinny-round handle deal they had on bank vaults whatever those damn things were called, locked herself out of the mental images.
"Jane. I have a confession to make."
They were sitting on the curb behind a fire truck, clutching coffees, still dirty from their excursion into the collapsed garage. Jane waited, creating the silence to give Maura time to articulate whatever it was she had to say. She looked into her coffee and then looked at Maura, who was staring at her. She shifted her head slightly, nodding for Maura to go ahead and say whatever was on her mind.
"I'm bisexual."
"What?"
"I date both--"
"I know what the term means. Jesus, Maura. I just thought... I didn't expect that. I don't know what I expected, but not that. What does it have to do with anything?"
Maura shrugged. "I thought about how much could have been lost today, what we've all been through, what we'll have to go through in the next couple of months, and I just didn't want to face a situation where something happened to one of us without me telling you."
Jane stared at her again. "Why is it so important that I know?"
"Because I think I've been falling in love with you, Jane. And I swore I wouldn't tell you because I thought the feelings would go away. But they haven't, and when I saw how easily something could happen..." She closed her eyes and her lashes knocked a tear loose. "I'm not saying anything has to change, and I'm not saying I expect you to even react to this, but I am saying that if you're interested, maybe we could explore it a little."
Jane stared at her and then slowly shook her head. "No." She put down her coffee and stood up, torn between wanting to flee and compassion for the strength it had taken Maura to say what she'd just said. "No, Maura, I'm sorry. I can't."
Maura had been so strong, and in that instant Jane knew she'd never have that same strength. I'm bisexual, too, she imagined herself saying. And I've beaten it. I've never kissed a woman, no matter how badly I've wanted to, and I've never told anyone about those feelings. I will not be the athletic dyke cop, I will not be the butch stereotype. I will not give those hateful bastard misogynists the satisfaction of being right when they try to call me a derogatory name.
But since that night over a month ago, Jane hadn't been able to stop thinking about what Maura said. Not the whole speech, just one little snippet of it. "I've been falling in love with you." Maura Isles, falling in love with her? Jane had been the object of a great many people's affection in the past, but rarely anyone as classy and beautiful and intelligent as Maura. Most of her boyfriends had at least one of those qualities, maybe even two, but the combination was rare. Maura had it, and Maura... wanted her.
Or she had wanted her, until Jane acted like a bitch and ran off. And now Maura was cooking dinner for some mini-Jane, a look-alike wannabe, a pathetic substitute for what she really wanted. But if Jane wasn't ready to step up and make a stand, then Maura deserved whatever she could get. Even if it was a second-best consolation prize.
Eventually she heated up a frozen dinner and placed it on the kitchen counter. As she sat she allowed herself a brief fantasy of sitting in Maura's darkened dining room and having a plate of something exotic and delicious placed in front of her. She could almost hear Maura's quiet voice as she explained just what the dish was and where it had come from. She could see the wide eyes and hopeful smile as Jane tried a piece of it, saw Maura laughing at her reaction.
She jabbed her fork into rubbery green beans. It killed her that this "Anna" bitch was having the meal that Jane so rightfully deserved. She ate angrily, her fist against her temple, hating the silence but too busy brooding to turn on the TV or radio. Maura would have put music on, almost too quiet to hear. "Ambiance." Setting the mood. The perimeter of the room would be dark, but there would be candles on the dining room table. The effect would make the dinner seem like the center of the universe, and Maura would make Anna feel like the only important thing in the world.
Jane closed her eyes when she pictured the candles reflecting in Maura's eyes. God, how she wanted to see that in real life. But she couldn't.
She finished her meal like a child who had been ordered to finish her vegetables, then went into the bedroom and dropped into the bed. It was only 8:13; surely the date was still going on. Perhaps they had moved on to dessert. Something small, two slices of cake or maybe pie a la mode. She didn't know what women did on dates after the food was gone. Sitting on the couch to talk? Maura probably grateful that she wasn't being forced to watch sports or crack open a beer for her guest. Anna probably went to the theater and could talk about recent scientific breakthroughs. They would be turned to face each other on the couch, and Maura's hand would casually drop to Anna's arm. And she'd stroke it as they spoke, her knee bent on the couch cushion and bumping against Anna's.
And then with a break in conversation would come the opportunity for... Jane's breathing picked up as she imagined Maura leaning in, her outside hand cupping Anna's face as the other continued to stroke her arm. Their first kiss would be tentative, able to be explained away as friendly. Short and close-lipped, ending with Maura retreating just enough to give Anna an out. And then Anna would close the distance and kiss Maura with more force, and Maura would take over then.
Jane undid the button of her jeans and dragged down the zipper. She rested her fingers on top of her underwear as she pictured it. Shameful, she knew, but she'd gotten through a lot of tempting situations with this shameful behavior. Beth in the police academy, who had made it clear she was willing to do anything Jane wanted with her ("Anything, Jane. Let me be yours."). Jane had twisted her sheets into a rope and threaded it between her legs, riding it until she came murmuring Beth's name into her pillow during her climax. Eve, the Aussie who had done everything in her power to seduce Jane, reduced to an abstract image at night when Jane switched on her vibrator.
Even Maura had been reduced to a fantasy when they first met. Attractive and funny, infuriating and dorky, Maura was absolutely nothing like the sort of person Jane wanted and exactly the sort of person she needed. So once again, she placed herself in the shoes of the woman currently enjoying what Jane was too cowardly to take. She pressed her hand into her pants and cupped her mound, slowly stroking as she imagined the kiss on the couch with herself in Anna's place.
"Jane, are you sure?"
"No." She brushed Maura's hair away from her face. "But I'm willing to let you convince me."
She pressed her head into the pillow and worried her lip with her teeth. She imagined leaning back and letting Maura take the lead. They would undress each other, with Maura probably breaking the kiss just long enough to remind Jane that her blouse was really expensive and that she should be careful. And Jane would silence her by sliding her hand inside and cupping Maura's breast through the Frenchname La Pretentious-designed bra.
"Have you done this before?"
Jane reluctantly shaking her head.
Maura kissing her eyebrows. "Then let me show you what to do."
She wanted that. She wanted it more than she'd ever wanted any other woman, more than she'd ever wanted most of the men she went to bed with. Her fantasy spluttered like a film reel burning in the projector because she couldn't sully the moment. She opened her eyes, fingers still massaging the crotch of her panties, and she realized she couldn't make the fantasy work because she wanted it in real life. She didn't want to create false hope, so her mind rebelled and...
Holy shit, she wanted Maura.
The realization jarred her enough that she realized someone was knocking on the front door. "Jane? I know you're in there. I saw your car outside."
"Maura?" Jane murmured. She buttoned her jeans but didn't bother zipping them, hurrying barefoot through the apartment. She opened the door and saw Maura standing angrily in the hallway. "Maura, I was... I was in bed." She pushed her hair out of her face and hoped she wasn't too flush. Not that Maura was likely to notice, considering the fact she looked ready to explode.
"I liked her, Jane. I really, truly liked her, and I thought maybe it would go somewhere. But throughout dinner, I kept seeing you instead. I kept comparing her to you, and it made me not like her as much, and I really hate you for that. She wanted me, Jane. She may not have been you, but she wanted me. And I shouldn't penalize her for the fact she isn't you."
Jane stared. "I'm sorry."
"You should be."
Jane stepped into the hallway with her. "I'm sorry."
Maura's mask slipped, her anger revealed to be anguish. "Just stop, Jane."
"No." She put her hands on Maura's jaw, angling her head up. Maura had time to mutter, "What are you--" and then she was muffled by Jane's lips on hers. Jane kept her eyes closed, her brow furrowed, and her lips in a firm line. Maura was rigid, and neither of them moved to embrace the other. For a long moment they held the kiss like models waiting for the camera to flash, one afraid to go further and the other afraid to take the initiative.
Jane pulled back, and Maura advanced, kissing her again, and Jane whimpered in her throat. She felt the pressure from Maura's lips start to abate, so she moved her hand to the back of Maura's head to keep her from breaking the kiss. She opened her mouth and let Maura take the next step, forcing herself to relax when Maura's tongue pushed against the tip of hers.
The outer door opened and they both tensed at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Jane tightened her grip, refusing to let Maura back out but also preventing herself from pulling away. Her eyes were closed - please don't be Ma or Tommy or Frankie or Frost or - as the intruder brushed quietly past them and continued up the stairs to the next floor.
Someone saw us. The only thing they know about me is that I'm kissing a woman; they think I'm a lesbian.
She broke the kiss and rested her forehead against Maura's. She couldn't speak and some primal, superstitious part of her brain thought perhaps Maura had stolen her voice. But then she swallowed and parted her lips, and her voice tumbled free without her help.
"I was jealous. I was so angry you were with her and not me."
"I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who said no."
Maura nodded, eyes wide and frightful. "And... now?"
"I don't know." She wet her lips and imagined she could taste Maura's lipstick on them. "I was masturbating when you knocked."
"Oh." A quiet, mouse-like voice.
"I was masturbating thinking about you. And what I wanted to let you do to me."
"Oh." More a movement of lips than an actual statement, and Maura glanced down at Jane's pants. When she looked back up, Jane leaned in and kissed her again. When she pulled back she shook her head.
"I don't know what to do."
"Then let me show you," Maura said.
Jane hesitated. But then she nodded and took a step back, linking her fingers with Maura's to draw her into the apartment.
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles
Self-Lover: Jane Rizzoli
Spoilers: No More Drama in My Life (S3 finale)
Words: 2,633
Date: May 21
The post to suggest future pairings/stories!
Summary: Jane realizes she may have missed her shot when she discovers Maura has a girlfriend.
AO3 link
Jane entered her apartment, feeling like a losing team trudging back to their locker room dazed by thoughts of what the hell went wrong. In her case she knew what went wrong. She'd thrown the game by choosing not to play. She told herself there were infinite innings, so she didn't have to worry about running out of at-bats before--
She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and killed the metaphor. She was home, in her own apartment, and not at Maura's as she had planned. It shouldn't feel like a defeat. She spent four nights of the week at her own place, on average. Okay, maybe sometimes it was only three or two. But on average, she split her time between staying at home and crashing on Maura's couch. The Home for Wayward Rizzolis, they called it semi-jokingly. But tonight, when she casually asked what they'd be having for dinner, Maura had hesitated before answering.
"Actually. I hate to say this, but could you maybe... not come over tonight?"
"Something wrong?"
"No, not exactly, but I need my kitchen for something else. I'm sorry. I know I've opened my door to you and your family, but tonight I--"
"Hey. It's your home, and you can tell us to get lost once in a while. But now I'm more curious about why I can't come over."
Maura pressed her lips together. "I... have a date."
Jane widened her eyes, the seed of dread that would later blossom into full-fledged angst starting its growth deep in her chest. "Oh? Anyone I know?"
"Yes. Do you remember the case a few weeks ago with the man who was found dead in his garage? I determined it was a suicide, and his sister Anna came in to identify the body?"
"Vaguely."
"She was so shaken that I sat with her in my office for about half an hour to make sure she was all right. A few days ago she invited me out to coffee as a thank-you, and she asked me to dinner."
"Oh..."
"That's not a problem, is it?"
"Why would it be?" Jane tried to act nonchalant as she backed toward the door. "Have fun on your date. Ma and I can take care of ourselves for a night."
"Jane..."
She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, confirming her fears that she had nothing to eat outside of the Leftover Delivery and Hodgepodge Sandwich Stuff food groups. She sniffed the Chinese and put it aside to be thrown out. She thought about what sumptuous meal Maura would have served, and that thought mutated into a realization that Maura was probably cooking for Anna.
She tried to remember the woman, uncapping a beer as she conjured the image in her mind. Petite, dark. Something about her seemed Greek, with the coloring and the green eyes hinting at something Mediterranean in her background. On the day she came in and Jane escorted her down to the morgue, she'd been dressed in a red blouse under a gray vest, pinstripe pants, and high heels. Probably came directly from work, clutching her purse strap as she was escorted into the scariest part of the police station for a law-abiding citizen.
Then she left, and Maura had made a connection. Comfort and hand-holding, then coffee, and now dinner. She took another drink. And coffee would lead to... She slammed shut a thick door on that, threw the... the spinny-round handle deal they had on bank vaults whatever those damn things were called, locked herself out of the mental images.
"Jane. I have a confession to make."
They were sitting on the curb behind a fire truck, clutching coffees, still dirty from their excursion into the collapsed garage. Jane waited, creating the silence to give Maura time to articulate whatever it was she had to say. She looked into her coffee and then looked at Maura, who was staring at her. She shifted her head slightly, nodding for Maura to go ahead and say whatever was on her mind.
"I'm bisexual."
"What?"
"I date both--"
"I know what the term means. Jesus, Maura. I just thought... I didn't expect that. I don't know what I expected, but not that. What does it have to do with anything?"
Maura shrugged. "I thought about how much could have been lost today, what we've all been through, what we'll have to go through in the next couple of months, and I just didn't want to face a situation where something happened to one of us without me telling you."
Jane stared at her again. "Why is it so important that I know?"
"Because I think I've been falling in love with you, Jane. And I swore I wouldn't tell you because I thought the feelings would go away. But they haven't, and when I saw how easily something could happen..." She closed her eyes and her lashes knocked a tear loose. "I'm not saying anything has to change, and I'm not saying I expect you to even react to this, but I am saying that if you're interested, maybe we could explore it a little."
Jane stared at her and then slowly shook her head. "No." She put down her coffee and stood up, torn between wanting to flee and compassion for the strength it had taken Maura to say what she'd just said. "No, Maura, I'm sorry. I can't."
Maura had been so strong, and in that instant Jane knew she'd never have that same strength. I'm bisexual, too, she imagined herself saying. And I've beaten it. I've never kissed a woman, no matter how badly I've wanted to, and I've never told anyone about those feelings. I will not be the athletic dyke cop, I will not be the butch stereotype. I will not give those hateful bastard misogynists the satisfaction of being right when they try to call me a derogatory name.
But since that night over a month ago, Jane hadn't been able to stop thinking about what Maura said. Not the whole speech, just one little snippet of it. "I've been falling in love with you." Maura Isles, falling in love with her? Jane had been the object of a great many people's affection in the past, but rarely anyone as classy and beautiful and intelligent as Maura. Most of her boyfriends had at least one of those qualities, maybe even two, but the combination was rare. Maura had it, and Maura... wanted her.
Or she had wanted her, until Jane acted like a bitch and ran off. And now Maura was cooking dinner for some mini-Jane, a look-alike wannabe, a pathetic substitute for what she really wanted. But if Jane wasn't ready to step up and make a stand, then Maura deserved whatever she could get. Even if it was a second-best consolation prize.
Eventually she heated up a frozen dinner and placed it on the kitchen counter. As she sat she allowed herself a brief fantasy of sitting in Maura's darkened dining room and having a plate of something exotic and delicious placed in front of her. She could almost hear Maura's quiet voice as she explained just what the dish was and where it had come from. She could see the wide eyes and hopeful smile as Jane tried a piece of it, saw Maura laughing at her reaction.
She jabbed her fork into rubbery green beans. It killed her that this "Anna" bitch was having the meal that Jane so rightfully deserved. She ate angrily, her fist against her temple, hating the silence but too busy brooding to turn on the TV or radio. Maura would have put music on, almost too quiet to hear. "Ambiance." Setting the mood. The perimeter of the room would be dark, but there would be candles on the dining room table. The effect would make the dinner seem like the center of the universe, and Maura would make Anna feel like the only important thing in the world.
Jane closed her eyes when she pictured the candles reflecting in Maura's eyes. God, how she wanted to see that in real life. But she couldn't.
She finished her meal like a child who had been ordered to finish her vegetables, then went into the bedroom and dropped into the bed. It was only 8:13; surely the date was still going on. Perhaps they had moved on to dessert. Something small, two slices of cake or maybe pie a la mode. She didn't know what women did on dates after the food was gone. Sitting on the couch to talk? Maura probably grateful that she wasn't being forced to watch sports or crack open a beer for her guest. Anna probably went to the theater and could talk about recent scientific breakthroughs. They would be turned to face each other on the couch, and Maura's hand would casually drop to Anna's arm. And she'd stroke it as they spoke, her knee bent on the couch cushion and bumping against Anna's.
And then with a break in conversation would come the opportunity for... Jane's breathing picked up as she imagined Maura leaning in, her outside hand cupping Anna's face as the other continued to stroke her arm. Their first kiss would be tentative, able to be explained away as friendly. Short and close-lipped, ending with Maura retreating just enough to give Anna an out. And then Anna would close the distance and kiss Maura with more force, and Maura would take over then.
Jane undid the button of her jeans and dragged down the zipper. She rested her fingers on top of her underwear as she pictured it. Shameful, she knew, but she'd gotten through a lot of tempting situations with this shameful behavior. Beth in the police academy, who had made it clear she was willing to do anything Jane wanted with her ("Anything, Jane. Let me be yours."). Jane had twisted her sheets into a rope and threaded it between her legs, riding it until she came murmuring Beth's name into her pillow during her climax. Eve, the Aussie who had done everything in her power to seduce Jane, reduced to an abstract image at night when Jane switched on her vibrator.
Even Maura had been reduced to a fantasy when they first met. Attractive and funny, infuriating and dorky, Maura was absolutely nothing like the sort of person Jane wanted and exactly the sort of person she needed. So once again, she placed herself in the shoes of the woman currently enjoying what Jane was too cowardly to take. She pressed her hand into her pants and cupped her mound, slowly stroking as she imagined the kiss on the couch with herself in Anna's place.
"Jane, are you sure?"
"No." She brushed Maura's hair away from her face. "But I'm willing to let you convince me."
She pressed her head into the pillow and worried her lip with her teeth. She imagined leaning back and letting Maura take the lead. They would undress each other, with Maura probably breaking the kiss just long enough to remind Jane that her blouse was really expensive and that she should be careful. And Jane would silence her by sliding her hand inside and cupping Maura's breast through the Frenchname La Pretentious-designed bra.
"Have you done this before?"
Jane reluctantly shaking her head.
Maura kissing her eyebrows. "Then let me show you what to do."
She wanted that. She wanted it more than she'd ever wanted any other woman, more than she'd ever wanted most of the men she went to bed with. Her fantasy spluttered like a film reel burning in the projector because she couldn't sully the moment. She opened her eyes, fingers still massaging the crotch of her panties, and she realized she couldn't make the fantasy work because she wanted it in real life. She didn't want to create false hope, so her mind rebelled and...
Holy shit, she wanted Maura.
The realization jarred her enough that she realized someone was knocking on the front door. "Jane? I know you're in there. I saw your car outside."
"Maura?" Jane murmured. She buttoned her jeans but didn't bother zipping them, hurrying barefoot through the apartment. She opened the door and saw Maura standing angrily in the hallway. "Maura, I was... I was in bed." She pushed her hair out of her face and hoped she wasn't too flush. Not that Maura was likely to notice, considering the fact she looked ready to explode.
"I liked her, Jane. I really, truly liked her, and I thought maybe it would go somewhere. But throughout dinner, I kept seeing you instead. I kept comparing her to you, and it made me not like her as much, and I really hate you for that. She wanted me, Jane. She may not have been you, but she wanted me. And I shouldn't penalize her for the fact she isn't you."
Jane stared. "I'm sorry."
"You should be."
Jane stepped into the hallway with her. "I'm sorry."
Maura's mask slipped, her anger revealed to be anguish. "Just stop, Jane."
"No." She put her hands on Maura's jaw, angling her head up. Maura had time to mutter, "What are you--" and then she was muffled by Jane's lips on hers. Jane kept her eyes closed, her brow furrowed, and her lips in a firm line. Maura was rigid, and neither of them moved to embrace the other. For a long moment they held the kiss like models waiting for the camera to flash, one afraid to go further and the other afraid to take the initiative.
Jane pulled back, and Maura advanced, kissing her again, and Jane whimpered in her throat. She felt the pressure from Maura's lips start to abate, so she moved her hand to the back of Maura's head to keep her from breaking the kiss. She opened her mouth and let Maura take the next step, forcing herself to relax when Maura's tongue pushed against the tip of hers.
The outer door opened and they both tensed at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Jane tightened her grip, refusing to let Maura back out but also preventing herself from pulling away. Her eyes were closed - please don't be Ma or Tommy or Frankie or Frost or - as the intruder brushed quietly past them and continued up the stairs to the next floor.
Someone saw us. The only thing they know about me is that I'm kissing a woman; they think I'm a lesbian.
She broke the kiss and rested her forehead against Maura's. She couldn't speak and some primal, superstitious part of her brain thought perhaps Maura had stolen her voice. But then she swallowed and parted her lips, and her voice tumbled free without her help.
"I was jealous. I was so angry you were with her and not me."
"I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who said no."
Maura nodded, eyes wide and frightful. "And... now?"
"I don't know." She wet her lips and imagined she could taste Maura's lipstick on them. "I was masturbating when you knocked."
"Oh." A quiet, mouse-like voice.
"I was masturbating thinking about you. And what I wanted to let you do to me."
"Oh." More a movement of lips than an actual statement, and Maura glanced down at Jane's pants. When she looked back up, Jane leaned in and kissed her again. When she pulled back she shook her head.
"I don't know what to do."
"Then let me show you," Maura said.
Jane hesitated. But then she nodded and took a step back, linking her fingers with Maura's to draw her into the apartment.