So, I would just like to say that I am not responsible for what I might do when you put something like this in my inbox. I'm lookin at you @luckypenguinbuddy.
You know I have an unhealthy love for the musical Wicked. You know that. But you decided this was okay???
Fine. Reap the consequences.
Anyway. the full version is up on FF, because it got long. (What? Long? That's not like me...I know...shocking)
I tweaked the prompt a little bit because...it's Wicked, and I can't just talk about one song.
I also tweaked the prompt because if you think that original Jane Rizzoli would sing Karaoke, then....you probably don't enjoy my stories.
LOL.
happy reading!
tc
“Maura, really? This is what you want?”
Maura turns to look at Jane over her shoulder. She isn’t sure if it’s the lights from the marquee, or the detective’s actual pallor, but she looks a little green.
“This is what I want,” Maura confirms. “You said if I won the bet, we could attend any event I wanted.”
Jane sighs, stepping forward. “I know…I just thought you meant, like, a movie, or…the opera or something.”
Maura smiles absently, reaching into her purse for the tickets. “This is almost like a movie,” she reasons. “And you hate the opera.”
Would you rather go to the opera?” Jane asks hopefully.
Maura shakes her head, looking amused and resolute. Jane balls her hands into fists to keep herself from reaching for something that doesn’t belong to her.
“I want to see this,” Maura tells her, holding out one of the tickets. “You lost the bet, and so I get to choose.”
Jane sighs more dramatically than she feels. The doctor must know by now that Jane would follow her anywhere.
“Okay,” she says. “Fine, you win.”
Maura smirks as the ushers hold out their programs. “Yes,” she says. “That’s why we’re here.”
They are led to their seats (first balcony, first row, dead middle. Leave it to Maura to do research on the best seat in the house), and as the lights dim, Maura takes Jane’s hand in hers.
She has discovered that she can take liberties such as this as long as she does not talk about it. The casual touching, lingering hugs, the occasional spooning at night when the day has been brutal, as long as Jane is not asked to give it deep emotional thought, or worse verbalize she responds readily to Maura’s affection.
“I’m excited,” Maura whispers, as the orchestra begins to tune. She squeezes Jane’s hand, and settles more comfortably in her seat.
Jane only tears her eyes away from Maura’s profile when the curtain rises.
