Work Text:
“Have you called Dr. Isles for the results yet?”
Jane threw Frost a questioning look. “Any reason you can’t call her?”
Frost shrugged amiably and grinned. “I guess not. Just thought I’d ask before I did. I mean, she is your work wife.”
“My work – what do you mean, my work wife?” Jane protested. “If I’m anybody’s work wife, I’m probably yours.”
Frost’s eyebrows rose. “Not Korsak’s? Ooooh, burn.” He adopted a grin as his voice went aggressively saccharine. “I won’t tell him though, honey bear.”
“Ugh,” Jane said, tossing him some files. “On second thought, love muffin, maybe you can be Korsak’s work husband.”
“Uh, I think you meant stud muffin, first of all, and second of all – Korsak? Come on, give your partner a break.”
“Hey, don’t drag me into this,” Korsak said across the room. “You two lovebirds can settle your marital differences on your own time.”
Frost chuckled as Jane threw more files at him. “You know, I always did wonder if there was somethin’ more between you two.”
“Huh?” Jane asked, distracted, then wrinkled her nose at the implications. “What, between me and Korsak?”
“No,” Frost said emphatically, and she was glad to see that the idea skeezed him out too much to joke about, too. “You and Dr. Isles.”
It turned out there actually was one reason Jane was glad her mother had recently ambushed her about her nonexistent lesbian lifestyle. Jane kept that to herself, and instead, as casually as possible, said, “What, me and Maura?”
“Sure, why not. You’re always together. Your mother lives with her. You clearly care about each other a lot. Like, a lot.”
Jane laughed. “Next thing I know, you’re gonna ask me if I like like her.”
“Well, do you?” Frost asked, apparently more intrigued by the answer than he’d been when he’d actually asked the damn question in the first place.
Jane rolled her eyes. “Can we pretend to be the professional detectives we are and get back to work?”
She’d always appreciated Frost’s respect of boundaries and understanding of when to let something go, and he didn’t disappoint her now. “You’re right. Sorry, Jane.”
“C’mon, you don’t need to apologize,” she said, brushing it off.
But in the companionable silence they fell back into as they pored over the endless mountain of records, Jane couldn’t help the way her thoughts strayed to Maura. Her ‘work wife’. God, she couldn’t let Maura hear that one, if only because Maura would undoubtedly have a string of mumbo jumbo to justify it, and then she’d tell Frost, and then they’d use it as an in joke to torment Jane, and then all of BPD would be asking her how her wife was, snickering away from behind their coffee cups, while Maura beamed innocently away.
And anyway, this was Maura they were talking about; she dated men, for God’s sake.
So do you, Janie, a voice in her head said. Then again, when was the last time you were even on a date?
Shut up, she told it. She’d been on plenty of dates recently. Well… she’d been on some dates recently. Okay, so it wasn’t raining men, but she wasn’t a zone of chastity, either. She couldn’t help it if all the things that had always been true were still true – she still worked long hours, she was still a cop, it was hard enough finding somebody who respected those things let alone somebody who thought they were interesting. And fine, she’d admit she had trouble relating to men who weren’t in a similar line of work. It was just hard to listen to some corporate drone or something and not spend the rest of the hour and a half she was obligated to be there wishing that she was at home with Maura.
Her brain screeched to a halt. At home with –
“Oh my God,” she said, standing abruptly with one hand flying over her mouth.
Frost looked up and frowned. “Jane, you okay? You look like you’re gonna puke.”
“Did you forget that you’re the one who pukes, or are you trawling for company?” Korsak asked him with eyebrows raised, but he did mirror Frost’s look of concern when his gaze moved to Jane. “Actually, he’s not wrong. You eat something bad for breakfast?”
Jane had eaten a perfectly balanced meal at Maura’s house consisting of two beautifully poached eggs, one piece of whole wheat toast, and a side of in-season, organic fruit. There had been nothing bad in that breakfast.
“I’m fine,” she protested. “I just gotta – “
“Whatever you gotta do, don’t do it on my desk,” Frost said, making shooing gestures at her. “Take five, get outta here.”
It was easy enough for her to follow the suggestion even though she didn’t really have to puke – she didn’t think, anyway. A hysterical laugh caught in her throat. Who even knew what she was thinking, anyway? She obviously didn’t.
Jane found herself in the bathroom anyway, and it wasn’t until she’d locked herself in a stall that she allowed herself to exhale shakily, forehead leaning against the cool metal of the stall door.
Fuck. Fuck.
“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “You’re a big girl. You can handle this.”
And she could; but Jesus, if she had to have a sexual identity crisis, couldn’t she have had it earlier than this?
So, her brain offered helpfully. Maura.
Yeah, Jane thought, sitting on the closed toilet seat. Maura. She had to admit that it made sense in its own bizarro-world way. She dragged her hands over her eyes and groaned to herself. So what if she just wanted to spend all her free time with Maura? So what if she’d be okay with never going an another date, especially if Maura was always the other thing on offer? Jane didn’t need sex, not like she knew some women (Maura, her brain interjected again) did; but then the loose connection of herself and Maura and the idea of sex made her brain briefly sputter and die.
And of course, it was in that moment that someone else entered the bathroom and a familiar voice called, “Jane?”
Unseen, Jane sighed, and then replied, “Yeah, Maura.”
“Detective Frost called me. Are you alright?”
Frost had called Maura? Of course he had. If Jane had actually been puking out her guts, Maura would want to know – and though Jane would never admit it, she’d want Maura’s steady calm even if she didn’t want her holding her hair.
“I’m fine,” she called back, and with one last deep breath, unlocked the door and emerged. “See?”
Maura seemed unconvinced. “He suggested you were experiencing emesis. Were you feeling badly this morning?” She moved forward, pressing the back of one hand to her own forehead.
“Uh, are you feeling sick?” Jane asked her dubiously. Maura paid her no mind and instead moved that hand to touch Jane’s forehead instead, her gaze thoughtful and distant in a way Jane knew meant she wasn’t really looking at her at all. Jane bore it in silence until Maura started doing the same thing to the sides of her neck. Jane jumped at the unexpected touch and shook her off with an, “Okay, okay.”
“You don’t seem to have an elevated temperature,” Maura said, but then immediately took Jane’s hand in her own. It was such an abruptly romantic gesture that Jane froze and was only able to wonder in a panic, Does she know? The thought of the idea nearly – but not entirely - eclipsed the pinch Maura gave to the skin on the back of said hand.
“Ow,” she exclaimed and yanked it back. “What the hell was that for?”
“Your skin is springing back nicely, which is a good indication that you’re not dehydrated,” Maura said, and then cocked her head. “You clearly didn’t actually just vomit in here. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Frost said you ran out of there with a hand over your mouth. Since you’re not physically ill, that sounds like something’s bothering you. And suddenly, too.”
I may have realized that I want to stop dating and just hang out with you forever? Bad. I may or may not want to have sex with you? Extra bad. Hard no. Especially when Maura was looking at her with an openness that Jane knew was only possible because she’d cultivated it specifically around Jane for the last two years. Jane had taken for granted the way it always made her heart feel warm, but now she was second guessing it. Like the rest of her life.
Maura knew better than to believe any lie Jane might try to tell, but there was no way Jane could tell the truth – not yet, anyway, and maybe not ever. So Jane went for the next best thing.
“It’s not a big deal,” Jane began. Lie, her brain accused. She hurriedly moved on. “I just don’t wanna talk about it.” Better, but the words still made Maura’s face fall and her eyes shutter.
“Oh,” Maura said. “I understand.”
Jane knew better to believe any lie Maura might try to tell either. There was no hint of hives on her neck, but Jane had gotten good over the years at figuring out what kind of lies Maura’s crazy, incredible brain allowed to pass as truth.
“No, you don’t,” Jane said, unable to help a laugh that sounded just a little crazy to her own ears, and which didn’t seem to be convincing Maura that she was fine any better than the rest of their conversation had. “Look, I swear I’m fine. My head just got a little screwed up for a second. Can we just go back to work like it’s a normal day?”
“’Like’ it’s a normal day,” Maura repeated. Jane nearly rolled her eyes in frustration that Maura could read her so easily, but Maura shook off most of the calculating suspicion in favor of her patently efficient take care of Jane expression. “Okay,” she said. “But call me if you do feel unwell.”
Jane snorted. “Yeah, or Frost’ll do it for you,” she muttered. A sharp look from Maura made her relent. “Yeah, of course I will. Thank you for coming to check on me.”
Maura’s hand rose to rub her shoulder in response – comfort or instinct, or some measure of both, Jane couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that the gesture was so natural to Maura that she didn’t blink when offering it, and so familiar to herself that she was leaning into it before she’d catalogued the shift of her body weight.
Don’t ask questions, don’t ask questions, don’t ask questions, she silently plead with Maura. I don’t have answers yet.
Maura was skilled in the language of the human body, and more to the point, she was skilled in the language of Jane. Jane held her breath, Maura’s eyes on making her feel transparent and seen despite everything, but she didn’t need to have worried.
Maura smiled. Like it was any other day. “You’re welcome, Jane.”