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Maura sighed and got off the motorbike, helping Jane out of the sidecar. Jane's face was all scratched up, but Jane had always been scrappy, always looked best with a little bruising and scabbing as decoration. It was physical evidence that she cared about people. Maura's skin was usually pristine, but that wasn't her tell.
Back inside, Maura made Jane a different drink, since she'd not enjoyed the lemon. Maura stood at the counter, resting her hands on it, her elbows flexing backwards with the little extra give they had, the stretch feeling good.
Jane had asked her to take the baby if anything happened to her. She hadn't exactly asked Maura to raise it with her, but it felt close.
It felt about as close as Jane would get. She didn't want Casey, the baby's father, to take it. She wanted Maura to take it. If Jane was in a coma, and Maura was a single mother until she woke, she'd manage. Without all the nannies she'd had as a child. She had Angela, and Hope and Cailin and Tommy and Frankie. She had her village.
But if nothing happened to Jane (unlikely, given her work history. Serial killers loved her almost as much as Maura did), then what? Would Maura still be invited to help out? The way they'd worked together with TJ, the way they passed him between them like a coordinated machine. The soft little smile that had remained on Jane's face when she'd looked up from TJ to Maura. Would they have that, or would Jane try to do it all by herself?
She swayed forward, feeling the extension in her elbows. Then she pulled away, sliding one hand into her pocket, the other picking up her drink as she walked over to a stool next to where Jane was watching her with the fond amusement she seemed to reserve for Maura.
"What are we doing?" Maura asked. Jane swallowed and looked away, her fingers fiddling with the stem of her glass.
"What do you mean?" Jane asked evasively. Maura knew she'd overstepped that morning by calling out that Jane was gay in The Dirty Robber. She knew how Jane felt about being perceived that way.
"I'm making contingency plans for us. My bug-out includes you. And you're asking me to raise your child. What are we doing?"
"You said something about elephants once, how they raise their young together."
"That's not what this is, though." Maura reached over and hesitated before closing her hand over Jane's. "You are the single most important relationship in my life."
Jane gave her a rueful smile. "Same," she said, but she didn't elaborate.
"So? What are we doing?" Maura let her tongue wet her lips, her thumb rubbing over the top of her ring finger. Her other hand still held Jane's, for Jane had turned her hand in Maura's so she could hold it.
Four years ago, Maura would have pushed because she didn't understand. She'd have wanted answers more than she would have wanted a specific answer from Jane. One that required more coaxing and finesse than Maura could have ever used back then. She'd been a blunt weapon, and Jane was better suited to the delicate work of a scalpel. Flaying her open layer by layer. She shuddered, remembering the little cut on Jane's neck, the massive wound in her abdomen.
Three years ago, Maura would have just manufactured a reason for Jane to hold her, because she'd convinced herself that it was enough, that it was the limit of what she'd wanted. She'd learned, by then, that if she asked questions that Jane would rebuff and withdraw. But if she stayed silent, Jane would take that as consent, and she would nuzzle into Maura like she knew she belonged there.
Two years ago, Maura had tried to distract herself with other people. And she'd ended up in the arms of a serial killer. And from there, somehow, Jane's arms. She hadn't asked then either, because as long as Jane was happy to hold her she was equally happy to be held. She hadn't wanted anything to change. She'd been more sure of herself, but still not sure enough about Jane.
And last year, Maura had almost been sure. When Jane kissed her cheek, she didn't pull to the side as much as she used to. She let her lips brush Maura's. Even though she was dating Casey, she made room for Maura. Even when Casey was in town, Jane blew him off if she had plans with Maura first. She always put Maura first.
She let her thumb brush over Jane's knuckles. She didn't touch Jane's scar; Jane would let her, let Maura touch the most damaged part of herself, the way Maura had when she'd kept Jane's intestines inside her abdominal cavity on the sidewalk outside the precinct. But she didn't want to remind Jane of anything she'd lost. She didn't want to make Jane feel vulnerable, because vulnerable Jane always pushed back too hard to prove how strong she was. That's what Maura had learned over the last five years. If she left a silence, Jane would fill it. She didn't need to push.
"I don't know," Jane admitted finally, her own thumb making a path across Maura's hand. She moved so she stroked the inside of Maura's wrist, looking down at the visible signs of life beneath the skin, the blue blood she'd once teased Maura about having. "If anything happened to you, if you ever left, I don't think I'd recover. Dean got shot and I didn't care. Casey left and all I felt was relief because I'd missed you. He wanted too much from me. It felt like an obligation. You never ask too much. It's never... it never feels like enough. I don't know what we're doing, but... can we keep doing it until we figure it out? Please?"
Maura raised their joined hands to her chest, then to her face, where she kissed Jane's knuckles. It was too much, it was too obvious, but Jane watched her, transfixed, her eyes glued to Maura's lips when she pulled their hands away.
"You know you're mine, don't you?" Maura asked. There was enough of a question in the statement that Jane could contest it, but she didn't. Jane retrieved her hand, stood and wrapped her arms around Maura from behind.
Maura nestled back into her, feeling safe and secure in Jane's strong arms. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the ambiguity for a moment. She usually dealt in absolutes, but with Jane she had to compromise.
"You know I think of you as mine. Not like, your house or money or anything. Just you, for who you are. I don't know what we're doing, but if it was you leaving the country, you wouldn't be going alone. If it was you getting shot, I would never leave your side. I wouldn't." Maura remembered when they weren't even friends, when Jane had said that to Korsak. She wouldn't leave her.
"And if it was me asking you to raise a child with me?" Maura asked, sick of all the uncertainty that plagued her. She was sick of compromise. It wasn't enough, not with Jane saying such nice things to her.
"I wouldn't have hesitated," Jane admitted. "Getting to spend more time with you? Of course. But it doesn't make me gay. We're just... I don't know what we are."
Maura stood and turned, looking up at Jane. She leaned in, and Jane met her halfway, not veering to the side at all this time, her lips catching Maura's, her hands already on Maura's hips, her thumb brushing against the crest at the front. Maura pulled away, leaning back against the counter, watching Jane carefully.
"Is it gay if I want to kiss you again?" Jane asked, leaning her hands on either side of Maura, effectively trapping her.
"I already said you were, and you know I can't lie. Do you care more about being gay or kissing me?"
"You. Always you." Jane lowered her mouth to Maura's again, her lips brushing so softly and sweetly against Maura's that it was almost worth the wait. No one had ever known her so well, no one had ever been so kind to her without wanting something monetarily or sexually in return. She met the kiss with the same slow intensity Jane had brought to it, the same delicate testing to see how much was too much, to make sure it was real.
Jane pulled away, licking her lips with her eyes closed. She opened them and focused on Maura.
"Even if nothing happens to me, I want you to have the baby. With me. I want it to be ours. I want you to be mine."
"Then I guess that's what we're doing," Maura said gently, kissing Jane again.