Chapter Text
1. The Untimely Doorbell...
They were on Maura’s sofa, in that frantic and desperate phase of early encounters where clothes fly off but never quite make it to the bedroom.
"Are you sure, Jane?" Maura cradled her face for a moment, and Jane nodded before meeting her lips again.
Jane nodded. "More than sure... And you?" Jane arched an eyebrow momentarily.
Maura smiled excitedly, and they both crashed back into each other. She helped Jane out of her jacket. Jane had her mouth at Maura’s neck and one hand already under the elastic band of her bra when the front doorbell rang like an air-raid siren, followed by the unmistakable, irritatingly sing-song voice of Angela Rizzoli.
“Maura, honey! I brought you that polenta cake you like!”
They froze. Maura’s gasp turned into silent panic. “Fuck...”
“Maura? I know you’re there, your car is outside!” Angela shouted from the door.
Jane, eyes wide, pulled away as if Maura were on fire. “It’s my mother, fuck...” she whispered, as if it were a biblical curse.
“I know,” Maura whispered back, pulling her blouse down with trembling fingers.
Jane groaned. “She’s a nightmare.”
Maura shook her head and reached out to wipe away a lipstick smudge she herself had left on Jane. “I’m sure she has neighborhood gossip to share.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “It’s divine punishment!”
“Maura? Maura, have you seen Jane?” Angela complained from the door.
Jane straightened up and let Maura help her fix her clothes. “Behave yourself...”
Jane rolled her eyes again. “I promise nothing.”
They had to feign an impossible serenity through forty-five minutes of polenta and neighborhood gossip, with flushed cheeks and Jane’s hair hopelessly disheveled. All with a promise left unfinished and simmering beneath the surface.