Work Text:
Trained instinct, or perhaps just the unusual weight of someone’s gaze on her vulnerable form in sleep, has Jane cracking one eye open from where she has fallen asleep in her best friend’s house after a particularly tricky case that took them well into the night—not that she minds; she’s shared this bed with Maura so often it’s as familiar as her own. It is on this bed, now, that she finds Maura next to her, sitting up against the headboard, clearly wide-awake despite the long hours, smiling at her and absentmindedly resting her hand on Jane’s arm, and demands to know: “Jesus, how long have you been watching me sleep?”
“Your face looks extra cute when you’re asleep.” Maura teases, and Jane swats her playfully with a pillow before groaning and rolling over to go back to sleep, internally lamenting the fact that this is the woman she fell in love with.