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Title: None yet
Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles
Pairing: Jane/Maura
Word Count: <1000
Status: WIP, unbetaed
Note: This was supposed to be hot Maura-in-a-men's-suit fic, but it didn't want to be that. I'm happy with where it went, but it needs a bit at the end. And I just want some feedback before revising and posting.
Jane settled back onto Maura's sofa, careful with her beer. She didn't need to be told that that kind of upholstery would show everything, and she was pretty sure Maura wouldn't be amenable to just flipping the cushions over. It was comfortable enough, but she hadn't gotten used to Maura's idea of home. It's not that being there wasn't inviting, but it was quieter, more reserved.
“Hey, I'm just gonna check on the game, okay?” Jane called. She'd been there enough to know that Maura wasn't keen on the television during dinner, unlike her own family. Though, Jane realized that she'd subtly, slowly been adapting her own routines to Maura's, and she was becoming more comfortable about it. That Maura might be noticing, especially when Jane only just figured it out herself, made her uncomfortable and she shifted as she closed her fingers around the remote.
“You sure you want to stay in? I mean, I could call for a pizza...”
“No, I'm happy to put together dinner. Maybe something cold.”
Jane turned at the sound of Maura's voice. She couldn't blame Maura for wanting to change after work. In fact, Jane wasn't sure how she spent most of the day in those dresses and shoes anyway. A two hour dinner was about all she could handle—more than, really. She hadn't expected sweats—particularly because she didn't think Maura owned them. But instead of jeans and some overpriced shirt made to look already worn, Jane found Maura smoothing the collar of her suit jacket.
“Come on, Maura, you said you were having my suit cleaned...which, by the way, you didn't have to do.” She turned back to the tv. “I didn't think you'd keep wearing it.”
“This isn't your suit, Jane.” There was something about Maura's voice. It was darker, softer. Beer in hand, Jane twisted again to see, but Maura was sauntering around the sofa. It definitely wasn't her suit. The fabric—Maura probably had a name for it—was light grey and looked heavier than her own polywhatever blend. But it wasn't just that. The jacket didn't accent Maura's curves, and Jane could see a vest underneath it. She took a long sip of her beer when she noticed the tie and the wingtip shoes. But Jane nearly spit it out when she noticed the distinct bulge in the creased pants.
“Uh, Maura...”
Maura turned off the television and crossed her arms. “We can go out if you want to.”
“What...I mean...like this? Like that...you, like that?” Jane put down the beer too hard, cringing as it sloshed onto the table. She stood quickly. “Maura, what are you doing...take that off!” She stopped when Maura's face fell.
“You don't like it?”
“No! I mean...yes. Yes...? I...” Jane took a deep breath to try to clear her head, but there wasn't any hope of that. She was almost terrified at what Maura was trying to do, what she was trying to tell her. Had she noticed that sometimes Jane glanced at her too long, that she let their casual contact linger. It had been selfish, Jane knew, but she so rarely indulged herself. “Maura, what are you...trying to say?”
“I thought this might make you more comfortable.” Maura bit her lip and Jane was so torn between wanting to just kiss her and wanting to hide, she nearly groaned. “Certain small signs indicate that you might be attracted to me but perhaps because all of your propensity toward men, you might...”
“Oh, God, Maura... I don't...it's not like that at all.”
“I misinterpreted, then. Jane, I'm so sorry.” When Maura stepped away Jane took her shoulders, surprising herself.
“I don't...want a man.” Her own eyes went wide as a smile spread across Maura's face, and Jane felt like her life was flashing before her eyes. Her mother was going to kill her or cry or both in some order. She'd probably just know. But she said it out loud. After the porn and the denial and the long looks and the one night stands she'd regretted before they started, she'd said it.
“Jane...” Maura put both of her hands on Jane's cheeks before wrapping her arms around her and pulling her close, down into an embrace. Jane hugged her back awkwardly and tried to breathe, to process.
“Wow, I...” she began as she pulled away. “that was...unexpected. And you look...really hot.”
“Yeah?” Maura's grin widened, and Jane felt herself blush as the blond pressed against her body. She almost met Mara in a kiss, almost closed her eyes when she felt the toy press against her.
“Whoa, why don't we just...uh...” Jane stepped back and pushed her hair behind her ears. “Maura, I really appreciate this...believe me, but could we maybe, ah, put that away...for night and just...have a pizza and talk?” She cringed at the sound of herself. “Please?”
This time, Maura's smile was warm, and Jane was relieved to see the blonde's posture change. “Another day, maybe.”
Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles
Pairing: Jane/Maura
Word Count: <1000
Status: WIP, unbetaed
Note: This was supposed to be hot Maura-in-a-men's-suit fic, but it didn't want to be that. I'm happy with where it went, but it needs a bit at the end. And I just want some feedback before revising and posting.
Jane settled back onto Maura's sofa, careful with her beer. She didn't need to be told that that kind of upholstery would show everything, and she was pretty sure Maura wouldn't be amenable to just flipping the cushions over. It was comfortable enough, but she hadn't gotten used to Maura's idea of home. It's not that being there wasn't inviting, but it was quieter, more reserved.
“Hey, I'm just gonna check on the game, okay?” Jane called. She'd been there enough to know that Maura wasn't keen on the television during dinner, unlike her own family. Though, Jane realized that she'd subtly, slowly been adapting her own routines to Maura's, and she was becoming more comfortable about it. That Maura might be noticing, especially when Jane only just figured it out herself, made her uncomfortable and she shifted as she closed her fingers around the remote.
“You sure you want to stay in? I mean, I could call for a pizza...”
“No, I'm happy to put together dinner. Maybe something cold.”
Jane turned at the sound of Maura's voice. She couldn't blame Maura for wanting to change after work. In fact, Jane wasn't sure how she spent most of the day in those dresses and shoes anyway. A two hour dinner was about all she could handle—more than, really. She hadn't expected sweats—particularly because she didn't think Maura owned them. But instead of jeans and some overpriced shirt made to look already worn, Jane found Maura smoothing the collar of her suit jacket.
“Come on, Maura, you said you were having my suit cleaned...which, by the way, you didn't have to do.” She turned back to the tv. “I didn't think you'd keep wearing it.”
“This isn't your suit, Jane.” There was something about Maura's voice. It was darker, softer. Beer in hand, Jane twisted again to see, but Maura was sauntering around the sofa. It definitely wasn't her suit. The fabric—Maura probably had a name for it—was light grey and looked heavier than her own polywhatever blend. But it wasn't just that. The jacket didn't accent Maura's curves, and Jane could see a vest underneath it. She took a long sip of her beer when she noticed the tie and the wingtip shoes. But Jane nearly spit it out when she noticed the distinct bulge in the creased pants.
“Uh, Maura...”
Maura turned off the television and crossed her arms. “We can go out if you want to.”
“What...I mean...like this? Like that...you, like that?” Jane put down the beer too hard, cringing as it sloshed onto the table. She stood quickly. “Maura, what are you doing...take that off!” She stopped when Maura's face fell.
“You don't like it?”
“No! I mean...yes. Yes...? I...” Jane took a deep breath to try to clear her head, but there wasn't any hope of that. She was almost terrified at what Maura was trying to do, what she was trying to tell her. Had she noticed that sometimes Jane glanced at her too long, that she let their casual contact linger. It had been selfish, Jane knew, but she so rarely indulged herself. “Maura, what are you...trying to say?”
“I thought this might make you more comfortable.” Maura bit her lip and Jane was so torn between wanting to just kiss her and wanting to hide, she nearly groaned. “Certain small signs indicate that you might be attracted to me but perhaps because all of your propensity toward men, you might...”
“Oh, God, Maura... I don't...it's not like that at all.”
“I misinterpreted, then. Jane, I'm so sorry.” When Maura stepped away Jane took her shoulders, surprising herself.
“I don't...want a man.” Her own eyes went wide as a smile spread across Maura's face, and Jane felt like her life was flashing before her eyes. Her mother was going to kill her or cry or both in some order. She'd probably just know. But she said it out loud. After the porn and the denial and the long looks and the one night stands she'd regretted before they started, she'd said it.
“Jane...” Maura put both of her hands on Jane's cheeks before wrapping her arms around her and pulling her close, down into an embrace. Jane hugged her back awkwardly and tried to breathe, to process.
“Wow, I...” she began as she pulled away. “that was...unexpected. And you look...really hot.”
“Yeah?” Maura's grin widened, and Jane felt herself blush as the blond pressed against her body. She almost met Mara in a kiss, almost closed her eyes when she felt the toy press against her.
“Whoa, why don't we just...uh...” Jane stepped back and pushed her hair behind her ears. “Maura, I really appreciate this...believe me, but could we maybe, ah, put that away...for night and just...have a pizza and talk?” She cringed at the sound of herself. “Please?”
This time, Maura's smile was warm, and Jane was relieved to see the blonde's posture change. “Another day, maybe.”