I saw your update, and because I love your works, I hurried over to AO3 to check out the story. I read all the parts of the story, but I still feel like I started in the middle?
In one of the chapters, it’s mentioned that Maura pulled a knife on Jane when they first met and I have looked through your stories and I can’t find any prequel. It’s driving me crazy. Please help?!
And thank you so much for continuing to write for this fandom and keeping it alive. Your untitled story is one of my all time favourite works of fanfiction and I have read it multiple times over the years.
The original two stories are on FF. The story is called “Treats”
Mae searches for clues all the way home, even expanding her definition to include weird rocks or, yes, treasure maps, but nothing out of the ordinary reveals itself to her.
She tries to hang around corners, out of sight, before dinner in case her mother or Jane let something helpful slip, but even Jane seems to have mastered not speaking out of turn when she’s around.
She must look a little sulky at dinner, because Jane pulls some extra funny faces in an attempt to make her laugh.
The last one works on both her and Maura, and for the rest of dinner, and almost the rest of the night, Mae forgets about clues, and scary men, and helping Jane catch a bad guy.
She only remembers when Maura kisses her goodnight alone after bath time. Jane has been called back to the precinct, and her absence reminds Mae of her mission.
would you be open to someone converting your ffnet fics to ao3? Under your name, obvi. it's just so much easier to read on ao3. if i'm missing something and you've posted before about why you haven't brought them over urself, just ignore this lol.
i have...feelings.
1. i dont have time. this message suggests that ...*you* might be interested?? Want to come off anon and chat?
2. if i'm gonna transfer things like JGMAR or WWM, i want to also revise them...some of those chapters make me cringe...and as i stated in #1...time.
3. i'm wary of the downloading capabilities that A03 has. i don't know if i want people reading my untitled fic like a book that they own. i genuinely don't know how that makes me feel.
omg i was just rereading keys and i realized that when garret tries to get maura the last time, jane doesn't leave her side. like she knows she left graces side and grace died so now shes not taking her eyes off maura im screaming
wow. oh my god wow.
thank you. for noticing this, and then for coming to tell me.
here. have this as a present for being inside my head.
......
......
he hasn't ever seen her like this.
The police come by her house that morning to tell her that if she attends the funeral she will be in violation of a trespassing order or a restraining order or some shit, and he's not really listening because when they tell her she can't go her face does that dissolve thing it's been doing almost every day since Grace died.
She's sitting next to him on the couch, and neither of her parents is home, and he can't stop thinking that he shouldn't have let those two cops in. That he could have stopped this from happening some how, if his mind hadn't gone black-boy-in-front-of-two-police-officers blank at the sight of the guns at their waists.
"You understand, Ms. Rizzoli?" the bigger one says. He takes a step towards her, and she leans back into the couch and that's enough for Barry to find his courage and step forward and say in as tough a voice as he can,
"Yeah. she heard you, man. Back off."
They do, miraculously, leaving without any further comment, and he goes back to sit with Jane on the couch. She doesn't say anything for a long, long time, and he doesn't break the silence either. Mostly because he doesn't know what the fuck to say.
I'm sorry you lost your girlfriend.
I could love you, if you would just show me how.
He opens his mouth, unsure what is going to come out, but then Jane is standing. She gestures that he should stand too.
"Help me pack." she says.
He doesn't dream of arguing.
....
So he finds a way to get her to the funeral. Of course he does. If she's going to run away, and he's never going to see her again, this feels like the last, true thing he can do.
When they crest the little hill and Jane realizes where they are, her eyes go wide and brim with tears, but her face doesn't collapse in on itself the way it does when her parents fight.
It doesn't dissolve into no man's land like it did the night her father called her a dyke.
They sit down on the hillside, out of the Fairfields' line of sight, and they watch as people start to gather.
"I let her go," Jane says suddenly.
A bag pipe has begun to play, and Barry only met Grace once, at a pool hall downtown, but he knows that she would have hated to have bagpipes anywhere near her funeral.
"This isn't on you," he says. "You loved her. All you did was love her, Jay."
But Jane shakes her head. "I had her, in my arms. And I went after him. I let her go. I should never have let her go."
He doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't really understand what she means. Only now that he is looking at her looking down at her girlfriend's grave does he realize that he hasn't truly understood anything at all.
"I let her go," she says.
She drops her head to his shoulder.
He doesn't put his arm around her. And they stay like that for a long, long time.
Did you write a piece titled "somebody's baby" or something like that? I've been haunted by this writing for years and my mind keeps coming back to you.
hello my love, please be more specific so I can help you.
I wrote 14 of 24 chapters of “24 Frames.” a series of one-shots based on the song by Jason Isbell. This is the first one- Vanish.
You wanna see if there’s a word you love in my WIPs? go ahead. Ask, and if it’s there, I’ll post the snippet.
Vanish (A 24 Frames One-Shot)
......
This is how you make yourself vanish into nothing
Maura finds her out on the porch. Jane hears her stop a couple feet away, unsure if her presence is wanted. She does this often. She finds Jane wherever she’s wandered off to and then hovers on the periphery, waiting for some kind of invitation. Usually, Jane appreciates this, but today she wonders if Maura is hesitating because Jane is invisible. Maybe Maura can’t see her.
But then the doctor speaks, and the illusion is broken.
“That cake was made for you, Jane,” she says softly.
Jane sighs, leaning forward on the railing of the porch, and after a moment, Maura comes to lean with her.
“You did spectacularly today,” she continues.
Spectacular. Jane smiles, despite herself. “Thanks. It was a big win, huh?”
“The biggest,” Maura answers. “No one can take that from you.”
Jane makes a noise between a scoff and a snort. A noise her mother would reprimand her for. “Not even my baby brother?” She looks around at Maura and catches the tail end of her expression. “Sorry,” she says quickly. “Never mind.” She chastises herself internally. “Forget it, Maura,” she says. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Don’t,” Maura shakes her head seriously. “Don’t do that. I know how it feels to be overlooked.” She waits a beat, but Jane can’t think of anything to say to that. “I, of all people, know how you’re feeling right now,” she repeats.
Jane nods. She doesn’t apologize. The moment calls for something else. “When I was eight, my little league team went all the way to States,” she says. “Ma and Pop said that if I raised half the fee, we could go.”
Maura remains silent, but she shifts closer to Jane, and it is clear from her expression that she’s listening intently.
“It was 650. A ton to an eight-year-old, you know?”
Maura nods. “How long did you have?”
“Ten weeks.” Jane chuckles. “I was like a kid possessed. I would have skipped the end of school if they’d let me. I returned bottles, I did odd jobs. I even illegally put money down on horses.” Jane grins at Maura’s alarm. “Relax. I found out a long time later that the guy took pity on me. Told me I doubled my fifty bucks and paid me out of his own pocket. He was a family friend and he knew how bad I wanted to go. Manages that Bodega around the corner to this day.”
“How chivalrous,” Maura says lightly.
“Yeah. Anyway…I make the money. By hook or by crook,” Jane continues, and as she recounts the tale, it’s like she can feel the mason jar of odd bills and coins, heavy in her hands. “I’m over the moon, you know? I’m ecstatic. Baseball is my entire life at that point, and all I can think is how cool it’s going to be to wear that shiny new uniform and play on a real, official field, with television cameras.” She laughs at herself, at the feeling of weak anticipation she gets, even now. “Local station, of course, but back then, you couldn’t tell me anything.”
She starts when Maura puts her hand on her forearm, looking at her questioningly.
“Please don’t tell me that you didn’t get to go,” she says softly.
Jane shakes her head. “I got to go,” she says, and when Maura breathes a sigh of relief, Jane feels a rush of affection so strong, that the remainder of the story is wiped from her mind. Maura has to prompt her.
“What happened?” she asks after a bit of silence.
“Tommy got the Chicken Pox the night before we left, so everyone else stayed home. Frankie hadn’t had it yet, and Ma was worried that he would contract it too. So they all…”
Maura’s fingers tighten on Jane’s arm. “Oh, Jane,” she says, and the story gets a little more difficult to tell.
“We were runner up. I went 6 for 7 with a homer that took us to the finals,” Jane says curtly. “I’m with my teammate’s family, and they offer me time to call my family every night we’re away. They were so kind. Super proud of how we did…” She trails off, voice cracking a little.
“They missed them,” she says when she can recover. “All three games. They missed them all.”
Silence. The night is calm and mild. Jane has come out without a coat, and Maura is wearing only her sweater, but when they link hands, it is warm and reassuring. Nice.
Inside, the noise of celebration rises, Tommy’s voice above them all, and Jane knows that he’s had a couple too many. She knows that he will crash on his parent’s couch tonight and in the morning she will swing by and collect him. She knows that she will drive him – hungover and sour smelling – to the job they are all celebrating him for obtaining.
She knows that it will not last.
“At functions,” Maura begins, and she glances at Jane, asking permission. Jane nods. “At functions, I would often pretend that I was invisible.”
Jane swallows the smart retort that presents itselfx and just nods encouragingly.
“It was less painful that way. My mother would look to where I was standing, and I would smile at her, and she would seem to look right through me.” Maura looks down, pondering their hands, at the way their fingers have thread together. She bites her lip. “If I pretended that I was invisible, then her decision not to acknowledge me became a matter she had no say in. She could not smile at me, wave at me, beckon me over and introduce me, because I wasn’t there.”
Jane shakes her head, shoulders sagging, and Maura puts her free hand over their already linked ones. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you more.”
But Jane shakes her head more vigorously. “No,” she says. “You didn’t. Maura, you’re amazing. You know that now, right?” She looks up again, at her companion, and finds her smiling.
“You are too,” she says. “My sentiments exactly. You solved those murders. You saved that girl.”
“You helped,” Jane interjects, “a lot.”
Maura laughs, her expression breaking open like the parting of clouds after rain. Jane doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but she has to ask the question now or she’ll lose her nerve.
“Do you ever feel like that with me, Maura?”
Maura seems to have gotten lost in the bend of Jane’s neck. “hmm?” she looks up.
“Do I ever look through you?”
“No,” Maura says resolutely. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”
“You’ll tell me, right? If I do? Promise?”
Maura doesn’t hesitate. “Yes,” she says. “I promise.”
The noise of the party rises again, singing, Jane realizes. Her mother and her father, off key. For he’s a jolly good fellow, for he’s a jolly good fellow.
She imagines Frankie, tight smile, glancing towards the door every couple of minutes, waiting for her to return. They’d long ago discovered that while Jane could sneak out unnoticed, Angela usually came looking for Frankie if he disappeared. And so, faithful, kind, understanding to a fault, her middle brother had stopped following her, knowing that he simply intruded on her alone time, trailing their mother like an overbearing balloon.
“They do that because there is so little to celebrate surrounding him,” Maura says, voice nearly a whisper. “They grab at what they can. Even at the expense of their other children.”
Speaking of. “We should go back in,” Jane says, and they stand straight, dropping hands only when it appears to be necessary.
Maura steps towards the door first, and Jane is just thinking she should move to open it for her when it does so on its own.
No. Not on its own. Angela has pushed through it, and she steps out onto the porch, face flushed and happy. Her eyes sweep Jane, and then Maura standing a little in front, then the rest of the porch.
“Maura!” she says, breathless, “come inside and have some cake!” She waves her hand when Maura hesitates. “Come on!” she coaxes, as though the doctor was simply outside alone, missing the celebration.
“If you're seeing these I really hope you don't mind me just blabbing here about your stuff. If it's annoying in any way just post something on your tumblr, I think I followed you a while ago - I should see it :)”
Okay.
To the person anonymously commenting on What You Own. Of course I don’t mind it.
I love it.
I would love to have a one on one conversation with you about your comments.
Thank you. You are - at times - the only bright spot on dark days.
Found it in a 1st draft of “About Love” that never got off the ground. I love the Keys universe the most I think. I write in it a lot.
I actually like this start better, but it never got an ending.
The song is “City Hall” by Vienna Teng
you wanna see if there’s a word in my WIPs? go ahead. Ask, and if it’s there, I’ll post the snippet.
TW: Rape & Assault
......
Me and my baby on a February Holiday.
Cause we got the news. Yeah we got the news.
Five hundred miles and we’re gonna make it all the way
Got nothin to lose. Got nothin to lose.
It has been a long time since Maura’s heard her wife sing her own songs. Maura stands in the back of the little music hall, swaying slowly so that the little boy in her arms stays asleep. Unlike his twin brother, Asher refuses to sleep in the stroller. One of his mothers, preferably Jane, must be holding him when he drifts off. This last song, Jane’s latest, is his favorite lullabye, and she need only hum the first few bars for Asher’s eyes to blink heavily.
In front of her, sitting on Constance's lap, Gracie stops her squirming and turns to look up on the stage.
“Mama?” She calls out, perplexed. “Mama?” Before Constance has a chance to reach up and shush her.
Jane takes the interruption in stride, looking up from her hands and into the crowd, smiling.
“Hey baby,” she calls back.
The audience chuckles as one.
Gracie will not heed her Grandmother. “Mama, what you doing up there?” She calls, surprised. “What you singing to all these people?’
More laughter, and Jane adds a couple of bars to the break in her song, always attentive to her family, above everything else.
“Yes, hon. I’m gonna sing these people a couple songs. They paid me to. Is that okay?”
Grace sees nothing out of the ordinary with this situation. She sits forward on Constance's lap.
“They paid?” She asks skeptically, and the laughter of the crowd is the largest yet.
Jane laughs right along with them. “Nobody like your kids to keep you humble,” she jokes. “Am I right?” She wraps the melody of the song back around to the beginning. “Let’s go again,” she says. “Now that everyone is up to speed.”
She bends back over her piano to play the opening sequence again, and this profile, this long neck and these long dark locks.
This is what Maura first fell in love with. The sight of it now makes her heart feel too full with affection.
Me and my baby on a February Holiday.
Cause we got the news. Yeah we got the news
Five hundred miles and we’re gonna make it all the way.
Got nothin to lose. Got nothing to lose.
Ten years waitin’ but it’s better late than the never we’d been told before
We can’t wait one minute more…
And just like that the music hall is wiped away. Memory swallows the moment, plunging her back in time.
...
Jane shivers against Maura’s chest. Her body is slick with sweat. “Please,” she says. “Please.”
Maura pushes Jane’s hair off of her face, bending to kiss her forehead. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmurs. “The doctor said it might take a while for the meds to work, remember?”
“My hands,” Jane moans softly. “Please. Charlie. It hurts.”
Maura swallows hard, hesitating. “You’re safe,” she says quietly. It’s all she can think of to say. Aside from Jane’s odd nightmare, they have not deeply discussed her ordeal at the hands of Garrett Fairfield and Charles Hoyt. Maura had never found the right time to bring it up, and Jane seemed more than happy to let it stay in the past.
Now here her girlfriend is, delirious, caught in the burning fever of pneumonia, and the grips of a flashback.
“It hurts,” she moans, “It hurts. Gracie, I’m sorry.”
Maura bends to kiss Jane’s forehead again, but pulls back when the brunette flinches. “It’s okay,” she says again. “You’re safe.”
“I can’t hold out much longer. I’m not sorry for loving you, but I can’t…” She breaks off to cough, and it seems to tear her chest apart.
Maura bites her lip. “Jane,” she begins.
“Say it’s okay,” Jane interrupts. “He’s going to come back down and…” she shudders.. “I’m sorry I’m not as strong as you are.”
“No,” Maura says, and she takes Jane’s hands in hers, kissing the palms, where the scars sit. “No. You’re the strongest person I know. It’s okay, my darling. You can give in.”
“Stay with me,” Jane murmurs. She winds her hand into Maura’s sweater. “Please. Please.”
“I’m right here, baby. Go to sleep.”
...
It is three days later, when Jane finds Maura and her mother in the reading room on the second floor. When Constance sees the look on Jane’s face, she excuses herself.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, sweetheart,” she says quietly as she passes. “Don’t be frightened.”
Jane smiles, and then comes to take Constance's vacated seat. She puts out her hands for Maura’s.
“Go ahead,” she says, not meeting her girlfriend’s eyes. “Ask. I want you to.”
Maura lets her thumbs rub over the scars on the back of Jane’s hands. “Who did this?”
“Charlie did,” Jane answers immediately, sounding determined. “He did it so I would stop fighting him.”
“He...raped you.”
Jane nods, still looking down.
“What did Garrett want?” Maura asks, trying to keep her voice steady. She tries to focus on the trust her girlfriend is giving to her, and not the delirious whispering of the last two days that have made this conversation necessary. “Why did he do it?”
“Because he loved her,” Jane says. “And he blamed me for her not loving him back.”
“I’m sure that she loved him still. That-”
“No, Maura,” Jane’s voice is rough, angry. “He loved her. Do you understand?” She looks up into Maura’s face, searching. “And when I found out, I did everything I could to keep him away from her.”
It is almost too horrible to believe, but Maura does. Immediately. She remembers the wild look in Garrett Fairfield’s eyes the night he’d confronted her outside of her dorm room. She remembers the possessive way he talked about Grace.
“Oh,” she says, not able to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks any longer. “Jane.”
“He wanted me to say I was sorry,” she drops her eyes back to her lap, to their hands, still holding on to each other. “I wasn’t sorry.”
“Nor should you have been,” Maura says. “Can I touch your face?”
Jane nods, a little jerkily, and Maura is relieved when her girlfriend leans heavily into her hand.
It is the summer after Maura’s Sophomore year at Juilliard, and she is the top of her class. She has made more friends this year, though she still prefers to hang out with Susie, Frost, & Ian when possible.
Her teachers like her.
Her friends like her.
She has been asked to pick up some Extras in the fall, and she is going to say yes.
But nothing brings her more joy than to sit on a sun drenched couch in the reading room with her girlfriend, and imagine the future they are going to have together.
“I love you,” She says softly, using both of her hands to tilt Jane’s face upwards. “I love you so much. You held on. You fought for her, even after she was gone. That means more than either of us can understand, I think.”
Jane looks tired, but not unhappy, and she leans forward to put her head on Maura’s shoulder, breathing deeply, just the trace of a rasp left now.
“How did you get away?” Maura asks softly. She puts her hands into the hair at the back of Jane’s head.
“I…” Jane hesitates. “It sounds stupid.”
“It couldn’t,” Maura replies.
“You don’t believe in ghosts.”
Maura smiles. “How did you get out?”
“Grace helped me,” Jane says, and she pulls back to search Maura’s face for disbelief. “I knew she wasn’t real. But it was like…” Jane shakes her head. “It was like she...took away my pain. Just for a little bit. But...Suddenly nothing hurt. I couldn’t feel my hands, or...how bad my hips hurt. I just. I ran.”
Jane wipes her eyes roughly. “She helped me.”
Maura kisses the side of Jane’s mouth. “I believe you,” she says
“Do you know what I said to Frost on the phone?” She asks, and her voice sounds a little more cheerful now.
“Tell me.”
“I told him that out of all the houses, I prefer the Hartford house the best, but that Worcester is a close second.”
Maura nods, not quite understanding why this is news. “I agree,” she says, smiling, although you have not yet been to our house on the coast of Spain.”
Jane looks at her, scandalized, and Maura looks back, eyebrows raised.
“What?” She asks finally.
“What?” Jane shakes her head. “Maura, we're discussing favorite houses like they are shirts!”
Maura crinkles her brow. “I have favorites of those too, Jane,” she says reasonably, and when Jane lunges at her, gathering her up in her arms with a playful growl, Maura’s squeal is closer to a moan.
They settle lengthwise on the couch, Jane resting her head on Maura's chest so that she can pull her hands through Jane's hair.
“I felt that,” she says quietly. “Your hands in my hair. The whole time I was sick. So I never got truly lost.”
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