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When Maura remerges from anesthetic, 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 tingly, 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 the Isles fortune 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's 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; so does Maura. 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 anesthetic 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 anesthetic, 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.