WLW, femmeslash, fanfiction, anything even slightly gay: I fucking love it. Gentleman Jack, Supercorp, Rizzles, Swan Queen, Xena & Gabrielle, and many more. Personal blog: setarcosjemia. This blog supports #blacklivesmatter
If you were patiently waiting for the more polished version of my Jane wears the Santa Suit one shot, it’s here! In addition to some grammatical housekeeping, I beefed it up just a little here and there and I’m quite pleased with it now.
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Jane thinks she's hard to love because she's brash, impulsive - I mean who wants to be with someone who SHOOTS THEMSELVES or JUMPS OFF A BRIDGE for the greater good without a second thought, and keeps her feelings buried.
Maura thinks she's hard to love because no one ever has before, her parents were too busy, she never had friends growing up - school is hard when you're too intelligent to fit in with the crowd, so many men just wanted her for her looks/money/connections but didn't really want her.
Neither of them understand how loved they are. They should have been allowed to love each other from so early on! Instead of being mistreated and misunderstood. Look at that picture and tell me they're not about to go find a corner to hide in and just hold each other and savor the knowledge that everyone is safe!
Sorry, I'm rewatching and never made it past season 5 before. Watching season 6 is honestly making me irrate.... I want to keep watching because I live for the little moments they get but I also hate everything and I don't want to accept canon and should just stop.
Jane went to Maura's after, because of course she did. That's just where she went after she closed a case, or got out of hospital, or at the end of a day. It was where she was welcome.
"I could kill a beer," Jane said, closing the door behind her. A moment later she was shoved up against it by a tiny but furious Maura.
"You went in without backup," Maura hissed, and Jane knew that wasn't supposed to be hot but by god the fire in her eyes was burning her alive. Maura's hands frisked her, tickling Jane a little where they pushed up her shirt, where they brushed against the nape of her neck, where they grazed her throat to lift Jane's head, then tugged at her jaw to scan Jane's face.
Something in Jane's eyes stopped Maura, made her step away, walking backwards to the kitchen and leaning back against the counter. Jane came towards her, then veered over the fridge where she hoped a Blue Moon was calling her name.
A moment later she was shoved against it, one arm pulled behind her like she was a perp, her face jammed against the cool glass door.
Anyone else she would fight. But she felt Maura taking her cuffs and gun, effectively disarming her, and she let it happen, let Maura's hands wander her hips and pull up her shirt at the back, running over Jane's skin and leaving a trail of fire in the wake of her fingers. Her arm wasn't uncomfortably ratched behind her, and she was pitifully damp at this minor display of aggression.
She loved Maura. She loved kind Maura, who tended her wounds with soft eyes. She liked sad Maura, who clung to Jane as she wept. She loved smart Maura, who had an encyclopaedia for a brain. She loved professional Maura, who was impeccable in every way. She loved elegant Maura, dressed to impress. She loved casual Maura, wearing Jane's clothes and drinking one of Jane's beers in Jane's dinky little condo after a long day. She loved sleepy Maura, who fell asleep in Jane's bed like she felt safe there. And she loved fierce, angry Maura, with her flashing eyes and harsh tone.
So she let Maura do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. It was never anything like this, although the results were interesting. Jane loved Maura, but she hadn't wanted to consider what the warmth heating her chest and underwear might mean.
"Show me," Maura growled. Jane's knees buckled and Maura let go of her then.
"I'm okay," Jane said, using the opportunity to snag the beer she craved. She popped it and drank thirstily, seeing how Maura followed the trail of the amber liquid down Jane's throat exposed to her. She almost choked; the look in Maura's eyes was so fierce and and... distraught. "I'm fine," Jane said quickly, too quickly, dribbling beer down the front of her shirt. She put the beer on the counter, seeing how Maura moved away from her now with wary eyes, expecting retribution. It made Jane sad, that Maura thought Jane would try to hurt or restrain her in any way. Maura should spank Jane and Jane would simply thank her for the pleasure of the touch of her hand. Maura could cuff Jane and Jane would simply melt. Maura could frisk her and restrain her and Jane would simply comfort her.
Like she was trying to now. Jane sighed and lifted her shirt over her head. Blood had started to seep through it anyway, and it mingled with the beer.
"I was wearing my vest, like you asked me to when I don't have backup."
Maura's hand was on her instantly, moving the edge of Jane's undershirt out of the way to inspect the bandage, to peel back a corner of it and examine the wound. Bruised and a butterfly stitch. Right over her heart.
Maura leaned into Jane's sore chest. "I'm so sick of you getting shot." Maura's voice was so low and small that Jane barely heard her.
"It's not like I enjoy it either," Jane bluffed; the only moments she felt alive were when someone tried to take her life. Or moments like this, where Maura was so soft and vulnerable, speaking about what was between them carefully so Jane wouldn't pull away from her. Jane wrapped her arms around Maura instead, pulling her closer despite her lack of shirt. She rubbed Maura's back and felt her shoulder shake as she started to cry. She'd been so mad, so upset. And she was still upset. Maura never got mad at anyone the way she got mad at Jane, and Jane figured it was because she could take it. Maura wasn't worried about their relationship the way she was with everyone else either; she was angry with Arthur and Constance and Paddy and Hope and sometimes even Angela, but she only ever lost her temper with Jane because she knew Jane would never abandon her.
It was a blessing and a curse.
"I'm sorry," Jane said gently, pressing a kiss against Maura's head. She could do that when Maura was upset; they never talked about it afterwards, how much Maura needed from Jane, how much Jane gave her.
Maura pulled away and tried to compose herself.
"And I'm sorry for the uncouth way I greeted you."
Jane brushed a tear away from Maura's cheek, then cupped her face and kissed her forehead.
"I'm hard to love," Jane joked, recalling an old conversation they'd once had.
"It's the easiest thing I've ever done." Maura wouldn't meet Jane's eyes until Jane tilted her chin up. Even then she tried to evade Jane's gaze, closing her eyes tight until Jane's lips slowly brushed hers for the first time. She didn't pull away or gasp or yell or scream like Jane had imagined it so many times. She just accepted Jane's lips against hers and pressed back, just as gently, just as insecure in their affection.
She tasted like the cotton candy lip balm she used when she was sad and trying to cheer herself up. She felt so good in Jane's arms, so warm and perfectly soft and short enough to hold all of her at once. And she kissed Jane like she'd never been kissed before. She kissed like she knew Jane was as scared as she was but was being brave, her hands clasping Jane at the hips, her thumb beneath Jane's belt and burning a hole into Jane's skin beneath it. She kissed Jane like it was the most interesting, important thing she'd ever done.
She kissed Jane like she knew everything about her and loved her anyway. She kissed Jane like it was easy, like it was inevitable, and Jane supposed it was.
Jane pulled away slowly and reluctantly. Although she was responding to the kiss, it wasn't the sort of kiss that had them tearing each other's clothes off. It was built from tension and anxiety and concern and love, not from desire or lust.
"I'm sorry," Jane said again, aware suddenly that the kiss might have been unwelcome, unwilling to think why she'd been so bold as to take something that hadn't been offered. Not wanting to address the elephant in the room - not the literal elephant ornament Maura had imported from Africa, one she knew a large amount about - but Jane's ever-present crush on Maura, Jane's big gay crush on her best friend, the crush that was crushing her.
"The only reason to be sorry is if you didn't mean it." Maura's eyes finally met hers, still wet and sad but also focused and fierce. "Did you mean it?"
Jane hesitated; she wasn't ready to admit how much she'd meant it, how much Maura meant to her. Maura shoved her back against the fridge again and Jane's knees buckled from the growl that came from Maura's throat as she awaited an answer, not a single ounce of patience left in her body.
"I asked you a question." Maura's eyes were dark and angry, but beneath that was the insecurity Jane had always seen in them, the fear Maura had that she wasn't good enough.
Unable to speak, Jane nodded quickly. "Yes," she managed to rasp out. "More than anything, yes."
Maura's fingers crept to the wound on Jane's chest and covered it again, apparently satisfied with the job the medics had done. She pressed a little kiss atop the bandage once she replaced it, over Jane's heart.
"Good." Maura picked up Jane's beer and swigged from it in a very unladylike manner. "You're filthy. You should shower. Keep the bandage dry."
Maura had gone from a feral, possessive creature to a stoic housewife in a moment. Her eyes had flashed gold, her teeth sharp, her fingers digging deliciously into Jane's skin, and now she had finished off Jane's beer - a beer she had very much been looking forward to - as though nothing had happened.
Perhaps she was doing this for Jane's sake; perhaps she was giving Jane a chance to regroup and take it back.
But it was out there now. Jane couldn't take it back. She didn't want to, either. She'd just stared down the barrel of thirty-odd years of sexual repression and she couldn't stand a moment more. She rounded on Maura the way a wolf bore down on prey: her hackles raised and her mouth watering. Maura stared at her so unimpressed that Jane gave up before her hand could reach for Maura.
"I - I could use some medical supervision."
"In the shower?" Maura's eyebrows quirked up and Jane leaned in and kissed one quickly.
"To prevent infection," Jane said, half-remembering the medic's instructions.
Maura's eyes roamed over Jane again, her eyebrows the only things to give her away. Maura's breath rushed out of her and her shoulders crumbled.
"Did you really - did you really just kiss me?"
Jane nodded shyly, and Maura deflated again.
"I thought so, but I've imagined it so many times I couldn't tell if it was real."
It was Jane's eyebrow's turn to raise in surprise. Maura blushed deeply.
"Why now? After all this time? I'd given up."
Jane took a deep breath. "Something to do with the way you treated me like a perp." She blushed as Maura considered her words, the implication that Jane found a forceful Maura in control so hot that she hadn't been able to resist a moment longer. "It felt like you were already angry so I might as well risk it."
"I'm sorry I was so rough with you."
"Don't be. I'm a big girl. I won't break."
Jane saw Maura's eyes darken then, saw Maura's stomach clench beneath her skin-tight dress.
"We need a safe word," Maura cautioned her, and Jane sighed with relief. They'd talk more, later. Jane's eyes caught sight of the fruit bowl.
"Orange."
Maura's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.
"Knock knock," Jane said.
"Who's there?"
"Banana. Knock knock."
"Banana who?"
"No, I said knock knock."
"Who's there?"
"Banana. Knock knock."
"You already said banana."
Jane sighed, filled with long-suffering regret.
"Knock knock."
"Jane if you-" Maura cut herself off and sighed too. "Who's there?"
"Orange."
Maura paused, unimpressed. Jane grabbed herself another beer and gestured for Maura to take the cue.
"Orange who?"
"Orange you glad I didn't say banana?"
Maura huffed in frustration, took Jane's beer and downed it with one long pull before pushing Jane against the fridge again.
"You'll regret that," Maura said, her voice low and husky.
"Promise?" Jane rasped out, her knees weak again as Maura kissed her. Maura chuckled lowly, and Jane wondered if she would survive the night. She'd faced an armed perp a few hours ago, but the feel of Maura's body against her was what was slowly killing her.
---
"I notice you didn't invoke any fruit," Maura said a few hours later, her fingers tracing a delicious pattern over Jane's bare back. Maura had taken charge in every single way and Jane couldn't be happier.
"Orange you glad I didn't say banana?" Jane asked, then laughed as Maura pinned her to the bed beneath her, her teeth already scraping across Jane's throat again.
It turned out pissing off the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts paid off with dividends.
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