#Maura Cheeks

[judgingbooksbycovers]

Acts of Forgiveness: A Novel

By Maura Cheeks.

[diver5ion]

[rumpled]

Even if we delete memories in this simulation, our senses are still reacting to the same triggers. Your mind might not remember [...] but your body does.

[julieverne]

"We do need to discuss our last wishes," Maura told Jane solemnly that night. She'd come over unannounced, which was unlike her. Jane had let her in despite not wanting company, despite, for the first time in her life, not wanting to talk to Maura.

They'd just dealt with a werewolf and a sniper. Maura had stabbed a man. She hadn't been hurt, but she was clearly shaken by the experience.

The more distance she tried to put between them, the more it hurt. Maura had broken up with Jack, and she hadn't even seemed upset about it. Probably too traumatised from her long day at work.

"There's something I've always wanted to do."

"We started our bucket lists. We already did ravioli," Jane pointed out. She didn't know why she was nervous. She'd faced her own mortality many times. She'd made willing sacrifices to keep her loved ones - and relative strangers - safe.

But Maura wasn't used to being grabbed. There was a bruise on her - Jane had seen it earlier, and it hurt Jane probably more than it hurt Maura. Jane hadn't been there. Jane hadn't protected her. Jane had failed.

Maura was better off without her. Better off with a man like Jack. Intellectually Jane knew all this, but her heart...

Her heart wanted Maura.

"I mean..."

They'd talked about it when Jane had jumped off a bridge. She'd already lost her baby and had nothing to live for; not with Maura dating Jack.

"I mean when that man grabbed me and I forgot I had a knife, I had a regret. A last wish." Maura came closer and Jane eyed her with trepidation. She touched Jane's cheek, and the bruise was visible now; a mark where a man's hand had hurt her.

Jane reached and touched it gently with a little growl of frustration that she'd let someone hurt Maura, even though it was on Maura's chest.

"It doesn't hurt. Not the way this does."

Still cupping Jane's cheek, she leaned in. Jane had been half-expecting this for years. She'd rehearsed what to say, how to turn her down.

But instead her mouth opened for Maura, letting her in the way she'd done for her condo, her fridge, her life. Maura's fingers tangled in her hair and Jane's palm flattened over Maura's chest, her other hand raised to push Maura away but instead settling on Maura's shoulder and pulling her closer, sliding down to her waist. Maura's tongue brushed her lips and nothing had ever been so exquisite, so wonderful. She was lost in sensation.

And then Maura pulled away with a shaky, shuddering breath, close to tears.

"I can't," Jane said, her voice cracking with regret.

"I know," Maura said, and turned to leave as the first tear slipped down her cheek.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

Maura nodded as she fumbled with the door. Jane came over to help her, leaning over her to grasp the deadbolt.

Maura turned in her arms and Jane nearly had here then and there, against the door, Maura's body pressed against herself everywhere, her sweet face so full of regret.

Instead Jane leaned down and kissed her. Just once. Softly, gently, sweetly, all the things she was only capable of for Maura.

Maura's forehead rested against Jane's cheek for a moment when she pulled away. Jane wanted to hold her, to love her the way she deserved to be loved, but Jane wasn't capable of that. There was always a ball of shame in her stomach when she realised how much more she loved Maura than she should, and Maura deserved better than that. She deserved better than Jane.

"I can die a happy woman," Maura said finally. "No regrets." She met Jane's eyes and her tongue poked for a moment between her lips, the way it did when she was stressed out. Jane let her palm smooth over Maura's back.

"No regrets," she agreed, because for one shining moment she had been brave enough to take what she wanted.

And then she closed the door between them and found she had too many regrets to count.

[valleydean]

Chapter 16 [Read Here]

CHAMPION Part III of Heavyweight a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) read from the beginning | playlist

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1933. Dean Winchester, the number one contender, trains to become the next Heavyweight Champion of the World, and this time he won't let anything get in his way. Title holder Castiel Novak has second thoughts about retiring, especially when someone from his past arrives in New York and asks for his help. Meanwhile, a new contender rises to fame and threatens to complicate both of Dean and Cas' ambitions - and their relationship.

CHAPTER PREVIEW:

The MC’s voice boomed through the arena: “Ladies and gentlemen, live from Madison Square Garden in New York City, welcome to tonight’s main event!”

There was a pause for more cheers.

“We have a very special fight for you tonight, and that’s all thanks to the man entering the arena for the very last time in his professional career…”

Castiel flexed and tightened his hands inside his gloves. They were already sweating. He hoped, after he’d won, the crowd wouldn’t be too disappointed to find out that they would no longer be able to brag about having been at Angel Novak’s final bout. Perhaps they’d be satisfied in knowing they’d been there when he announced that he was staying.

“Coming to us from Brooklyn, New York. You know him as the Angel of America. The undisputed heavyweight champion of the world—Castiel Novak!”

“An-gel Nov-ak!” the crowd chanted, stomping their feet. The fanfare of brass instruments rose up from the orchestra.

The curtains were pulled back. Castiel pushed his shoulders upright and walked into the arena.

“An-gel Nov-ak!”

There wasn’t a seat left vacant in the Garden. The crowd undulated from the ringside seats to where the bleachers met the ceiling. The people standing in the pits surged forward and thrust their arms over the barriers to touch his gloves and robe. They waved signs and lit cigarette lighters to get his attention. Press cameras blinded him from every direction.

When he reached the rows of ringside seats, the people sitting close to the aisles grabbed him by the shoulders and shook his gloved hands, wishing him luck. The governor and his wife, the mayor, Congressmen, socialites, gangsters, and celebrities.

“Give ‘em hell, baby,” a familiar, sultry voice said to him while he was shaking Babe Ruth’s hand. He glanced around, finding Meg Masters.

“Meg.” Pleasantly surprised that she was there, he gave her a smile. She planted a possessive kiss on his cheek before he had to move on.

Mick was on the aisle seat in the second row from the front, Balthazar beside him. He clapped Castiel on the back before hugging Michael. Balthazar leaned over them and said, “Do us proud, Cassie!”

He expected to find Dean in the first aisle seat. Instead, Kelly was there, giving him a bright smile. Jack rushed around her and gave Castiel a hug. Castiel put his glove on Jack’s head, chuckling. His buoyancy sank somewhat when he found Dean standing over the seat next to Jack’s. Dean clapped, his eyes on Castiel. He gave Castiel the same phony grin that was usually reserved for press photos. Castiel promised himself that Dean’s smile would be genuine by the end of the night.

Sam was next to Dean, then Eileen, who gave him a thumbs up—and Castiel was surprised to find Maura clinging to Sam’s shoulder as he held her. Jo and Charlie were further back in the row. The end chair had been removed for Bobby’s wheelchair. Castiel thought he spotted Henriksen, Benny, and Rufus in the seats behind Bobby, but it was difficult to see in the shadows. All the blinding lights were focused on him.

“You have lipstick on your cheek!” Jack laughed. That certainly explained the hints of jealousy on Dean’s face. He hadn’t even realized Meg had left a mark behind.

“Oh, I…” He raised his glove, then paused, because he didn’t want to smear red on the leather so soon.

Kelly pulled out her handkerchief and wiped the lipstick off his face quickly. When she was done, she said, “Go. They’re waiting for you. Good luck!”

With one last look at Dean, Castiel moved to the ring. He climbed inside, his team right behind him. As he did, he heard the commentator saying for the people listening over the radio, “Angel Novak has entered the ring for the final time in his career—or is it? He’s expected to make an announcement at the end of tonight’s bout. His coach and promoter haven’t commented on the matter, but analysts speculate that Novak will push his plans for retirement and hold onto the belt for a little while longer. That is, unless Mr. Webb beats him tonight.”

In his corner, Castiel shuffled from foot to foot and shook out his arms, still trying to get loose. His robe fluttered around his calves.

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Looking forward to this prompt like always.

maybe they get slightly jealous while out, so they grab onto their partner's hand to establish their relationship

here it is! I have no idea what I just wrote but, you know, here we go:

—-

The Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala. If anything in Maura’s life is a black tie affair, it’s this. It comes once a year, in May, just as the spring gives way to summer temperatures, and, unfortunately, when the nascent MLB season really starts to take shape. Which usually means she takes a man, a doctor most times, instead of Jane: the person with whom she much prefers to attend these things. Not only is Jane Maura’s best friend - and thus makes it all genuinely more bearable - Jane has all the social skills Maura wishes she did when it came to fellow donors and hot shots. There are celebrities at this thing, for god’s sake. And that makes Maura nervous, especially since Jane so often has about five to eight games to catch up on by the time late May rolls around and refuses to come. Last time Maura had to bring a surgeon. But this year, by some miracle, the Red Sox have an off day on this Tuesday night, the same that the Gala is on. 

And Maura had known this fact for months. In fact, as soon as the regular season schedule was released. That meant that she started her get-Jane-to-the-Gala campaign while snow still raged outside and the year had barely begun. It culminates in the black, strapless gown she wears now, the one showing off her tanned shoulders and her three hundred dollar haircut complete with layers and highlights and the smell of priceless product. There are heels that highlight her calves and make her ass look fantastic; there is a pendant on her neck that draws attention to her perfectly supported breasts. There’s even a diamond ring on her right ring finger, big and belonging once to her mother, because Jane likes to look at things that remind her of tradition. 

And Maura had promised, not with words per se, but quite forcefully, quite convincingly, that Jane’s attendance would be worthwhile. The promise had consisted of some rather pointed modeling in the guest bedroom while Jane sat in a lounge chair and watched, of even more pointed half-states of undress, including dropping the garment in front of her with her heels still on so that she could bend over in the skimpiest pair of underwear appropriate for a platonic home fashion show that she owned. It also consisted of the subtle increase in hand jewelry, answers to Jane’s questions about it being, “My mother gave it to me. She couldn’t bring herself to wear it anymore; she finds such signs of commitment provincial. I vehemently disagree - especially when the signs are so exquisite. Don’t you think?”

Jane had sniffled. She’d stood, looking stiff and stupid as her mouth gaped at the ring Maura held out, before she finally said, “it’s on the wrong hand.”

Maura had chuckled warmly and replied, “for now.”

The stupidity intensified up until Jane mopped her jaw off the floor and excused herself to return upstairs. Maura then understood that she didn’t even need to invite Jane: she just needed to bring the Gala up. 

That happened about two weeks after the ring incident, which was about two weeks after the dress fitting. Maura stood in front of the vanity in her bedroom’s en suite, rubbing a European moisturizer into the skin just over her cheek bones. “You know, the Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala is on the 28th this year,” she said with the most practiced nonchalance as she frowned to get more of the product into her pores. 

Jane had grunted. She leaned against the threshold to the bathroom and crossed her arms, using tox results for their current case as the excuse to be in Mauara’s inner sanctum. Maura had at least given her the courtesy of relaying those lab results before bringing the fundraiser up. “‘S an off day,” Jane said. 

Maura made a curious sound. “Hmm. Really?”

“Yeah,” Jane confirmed. “Want me to tag along?”

Maura pursed her lips so she didn’t smile. Jane isn’t hers. But she knows a secret: Jane wants to be, and so she admits she played a little dirty to have gotten Jane to accompany her.

Honestly, though, that was the nonverbal content of Maura’s promise: go, and becoming mine is a distinct, dirty possibility for you. “I’d like that,” she told Jane. “Do you need something to wear?”

She knew what Jane would say. Well, she knew the answer. Jane ended up saying, “I”ve seen what you’re wearing; I think I can cobble something together.”

Contrary to what even Jane herself might have believed, Maura hadn’t wanted to go shopping for Jane anyway - she wanted it on the table that Jane would be dressing to compliment her. Because that meant Jane in a suit. And Maura is attracted to the Jane she knows, not the Jane she can conjure by draping her in couture.

And so, Jane is here, at the Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala, in May, instead of in front of a ballgame somewhere. Jane is here in a suit, with a very expensive white silk shirt under the jacket, with a sleeker, more understated boot than the aggressive block heel she often wears to work, her hair wild and beautiful and the perfect compliment to her sharp features.

It is, by all accounts as Maura returns from the restroom, a win. A complete victory on all fronts. Except, that is, Jane stands close to Doctor Melissa Henry - world renowned OBGYN and overall knockout - listening intently enough, leaning in close enough, to hear above the sociable din. 

Jane’s long fingers hold her champagne flute by the rim, the drink Maura had procured for her long before the trip to the restroom, and Jane hasn’t touched it. Hasn’t had a sip. Which, of course not, because Doctor Henry is Puerto Rican and curvaceous and a genius. Why would Jane interrupt her spell to imbibe? 

Doctor Henry leans close and says something into Jane’s ear, Jane who turns into the gesture yet again, and suddenly, they are both chuckling. And by god, it’s Jane’s handsome chuckle - the one that crinkles the corners of her eyes and bestows upon her a crooked little grin.

Normally, Maura respects the hell out of Doctor Henry as a leader in the field of women’s medicine. She’s serious and principled and warm… and that’s the damn problem. Maura did a fucking bend and snap to get Jane here (thank Jane’s modern media bootcamp for that particularly relevant reference); she’s not letting go this easily. 

And again, she intends to fight dirty. 

She marches across the crowded ballroom to where the two women stand, where Doctor Henry places a steadying hand on Jane’s shoulder because her heels are tall and her ankles are crossed. A man bumps into a deadset Maura, by accident, but it only fuels her resolve. She continues, gaze forward, back straight, clutch in front of her hips (the ones that sway as she walks), until she approaches Jane and Doctor Henry. Then she stops.

For all her missing of social mores, Maura can synthesize the details of a situation like no other. So just as she approaches, she comes up to Jane’s left, because Jane’s right is occupied with the champagne. And also, coincidentally, Doctor Henry. All for the better, though, because this means that for her next act, the ring on her hand can do all the heavy lifting, even if it’s a mirror image of where it’s supposed to be. 

Her fingers find the ones at Jane’s side, and they slither between them. Once they’re all but entwined, she drags them up, skin brushing as they curl, just before manicured fingers scratch Jane’s palm one time. Then as she fans them back out, down and united again, she kisses Jane’s covered shoulder. Jane shivers and Maura knows it’s because of the metal rubbing on her ring finger. “My mother’s bete noir is here,” she says into the fabric of Jane’s jacket, relishing the delicate scratch against her gloss-softened lips. “The feud is as alive as ever.”

Boom.

Between the touching and the comment just for her, she’s got Jane. She knows she’s got Jane because instead of a statement about how rude it is not to greet the third party, Jane says in that gravel-rich timbre, “she still telling the story about how her daughter styled… who?”

“The Roman Prince of Cerveteri? At least once a function,” Maura replies quickly, all as she turns her gaze on Doctor Henry. “So sorry, Melissa - family issues. You know how it is.”

Family. Issues.

Jane stiffens further, grows warmer; Maura knows there’s blushing even if she can only see Melissa Henry’s straight-out-of-a-catalog face. 

“That I do,” Doctor Henry says. Gracefully she steps away from Jane. Is that a bit of fear Maura sees, too? “Do uh, do you two need a drink? I think I’m headed to the bar.”

Jane smiles with her lips closed and simply holds up her champagne flute. I’ve got plenty.

“I’ve had enough for the evening, but thank you,” Maura answers with a cordial smile.

When Doctor Henry walks away after a nod and a smirk of her own, Jane snorts. “I don’t think she’s coming back,” she says.

“God, I hope not,” says Maura. When Jane, without letting go of Maura’s hand, downs her entire drink and steps close enough for their fronts to touch, Maura honors the nonverbal request for an embrace by wrapping her free arm around Jane’s shoulders. “When you’re here, when you accompany me to these events, you’re mine,” she asserts with a growl of her own.

“I’m yours all the time,” Jane counters. She rests her head in the crook of Maura’s neck because in heels, Maura is tall enough.

Maura squeezes, and laughs lowly. “I know.”

[multifandomfix]

Frosty Reception — Jane Rizzoli

Summary: You’ve been keeping your relationship with Jane under wraps, but when Frost comes across you at the Dirty Robber and starts to flirt, will Jane be able to keep her cool?

Word Count: 849

Warnings: Some jealousy, secret relationship reveal

You walked into the Dirty Robber, excited to meet your friends for a fun evening. You spot your friends at a corner table, and as you approach, you can't help but notice the familiar face sitting at the end of the bar. It's Jane Rizzoli, the detective you've been secretly dating for a while now. You didn't plan on running into her tonight, and from her slightly surprised expression, she didn't expect to see you either.

You try not to let your eyes linger on Jane for too long, lest one of your friends catch you and start asking questions. Besides, Jane was just as entitled to be here as you were. There was no reason you couldn’t share the same space.

As the evening progressed, the conversation dwindled and Frost got up from the bar and approached your table. He started chatting you up, his flirtatious comments making you slightly uncomfortable. You weren’t interested in him, but it's clear he doesn't know about your relationship with Jane. You try to politely deflect his advances, but it was getting increasingly awkward. You try to shoot a look over to Jane, but with Frost in the way, you couldn’t catch her eye.

Jane, however, had been watching the interaction from the moment Frost had excused himself to talk to you. She thought you’d just reject him and that would be the end of it, but he’d been over there for a while.

Finally, Jane couldn’t contain herself any longer. She got up and made her way to your table, intent on dragging Frost away by his ear if she had to. "Hey, Frost, cut it out, okay? They’re out with friends, not to flirt with you.”

The way she spoke was enough to make Frost, back off, but not without a curious look to his coworker. Your friends all give you and Jane curious looks as well. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You feel like Jane's little act has effectively revealed your relationship to everyone at the table.

Maura, ever perceptive, decides to come over and play mediator before Jane’s temper gets the best of her. “Jane, do you know each other,” she broaches, giving Jane the opportunity to come clean.

You exchange a glance with Jane, and she gives you a sheepish but affectionate smile, feeling a little guilty for having made such a scene. It seems like your secret is out in the open now, and you can finally relax, knowing that Jane's jealousy, while a little unexpected, has made your relationship public in a rather unique way.

Deciding to join forces, Jane, Maura, and Frost join your table and the night continues with laughter and shared stories from your relationship now that there's no need for secrecy. As you and Jane steal glances at each other, you can't help but appreciate the unexpected turn of events. The atmosphere becomes more relaxed and the awkwardness between you and Frost dissipates with a simple apology.

"You know, Jane, I was just about to ask if you were ever going to introduce us to your mystery person," Frost grins.

Jane runs a hand through her hair, he’d suspected she’d been seeing someone for weeks and she wouldn’t open up about it. "I guess I was waiting for the right moment.“

Frost, still feeling like he crossed a line, replied with, "Yeah, sorry about earlier. I didn't realize."

"No harm done, Frost,” you chimed in before Jane could rip into him. “It was a bit of a surprise for all of us."

Maura leans in, looking between you and Jane. "How did you two meet, anyway?”

You take Jane’s hand and begin to share your story. "Well, it started when she stole the last hot dog from me at the Red Sox game.”

“That sounds about right,” Frost interjected, sending the whole table into a fit of laughs.

As you continued the story, Jane gently traced patterns on your hand, and you can't help but feel the warmth of her love in that simple touch.

The evening at last winds down, and you leave the Dirty Robber hand in hand with Jane, the weight of the hidden relationship finally lifted. saying goodbye to your friends and hers, you and Jane linger behind, eager to have a bit of alone time.

Walking together under the night sky and streetlights, Jane smiled at you. "I’m sorry I overreacted, but I'm glad it's all out in the open now. I don't want to hide our relationship anymore."

You squeeze her hand and smile back. "Me too, Jane. I want to be a part of your life. All of it."

After a minute Jane let out a groan. “What’s the matter? Something I said?”

“No,” Jane replied. “I just realized this means I’m going to have to introduce you to my mother.”

You swatted Jane’s arm and laughed, not worried at all about the meeting, though you knew Jane would stress about it. “I think that can wait at least until tomorrow,” you soothed. “We’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

For anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @ayanthegreat28, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @bitchr-mkay, @sparrowspixie

Jane Rizzoli: @riveranddoctorsong123, @jona-lea

[lizzisimss]

Preppy Outfits Lookbook

1: [greenllamas] GREENHOUSE_Hyacinth_Hair, serenity_FrilledTurtleneck_accWrist, serenity_LaFamaDress, [oakiyo_x_QICC]Sweater_Weather_Jora_Boots, CeeP_Backpack_Mini_F, [IDAVALLEN] - WILLOW TIGHTS SET

2: [arethabee] charlotte hair, serenity_SaokoTop, [boonstow] low waist pleat skirt, Madlen Bonnie Boots, Trillyke_Laces_and_Spikes_2022_NaRa_Torn_Tights

3: simstrouble_FemaleHair_NaiaV2, serenity_MarinaPants, [greenllamas] MIMOSA_Tangerine_Top_patterns, [VXG] GLITTER_Magdelena_Boots, Ridgeport - BiscottiRibbonAcc

4: simstrouble_FemaleHair_MeliteV2, Sentate-2022-MiucciaSweater, Elliesimple_fBottom_RuffleWaistJeans, [Jius]KnittedSocks02, [Jius]LeatherLoafers02-Female, [AxA_Girlboss]-Veronica_Hairclips_V2

5: simstrouble_FemaleHair_Angie, [RIMINGS] Long Blouse & Wool Vest, miiko-knee-high-fox-socks, [Aladdin] Anna Tights, Madlen Lucille Boots, [AH00B]-JasmineHairclips

6: simstrouble_FemaleHair_Lena (link currently broken), RUSTY-211115_F_Cozy Cardigan, [AxA_Girlboss]-JackieSkirt_Patterns, [Jius]ShortRainBoots01, serenity_LexiHeartLocket, [RIMINGS] Lovely Pattend Knit Hairband

7: [AH00B]-RowanHair, Trillyke_Fallen_Star_Suit, Madlen Gladys Boots, [boonstow] blossoming bow acc

8: [Aladdin] Megan Hair, (Soolani)FeelSpecialSweater, serenity_NellyPants, Madlen Maura Boots 2, casteru - yfHat_Messenger Bag_031020

Body: Pralinesims_Nails_Female_N27_SugarMilk, heihu-niunai_cleavageoverlay_mouthcrease, nesurii_lightitup-highlight,  Pralinesims - UltimateEyebrowCollection_MaxisMatch (N134 Jana), Pralinesims - UltimateEyelinerCollection (N18 Elysium, N44 VEOX), PYXIS - ToTheBone_Nosemasks, [ajduckie] Honey Skinblend

Makeup: Dyoreos – Be Bright Blush, JH Cosmetics - Eyeshadow 108, JH Cosmetics - Eyeshadow 110, JH Cosmetics - Eyeshadow 114, JH Cosmetics - Eyeshadow 121, JH Cosmetics - Eyeshadow 129, [ d r e a m g i r l ] 3 D_l a s h e s_V6, JH [COSMETICS] EYESHADOW #135, JH [COSMETICS] LIPSTICK #148, [LS] I'M BLUSHING CHEEK BLUSHER, Lady Simmer 94- Bubble Lollipop Lipstick, LS - Chocolate Contour Palette (FRECKLES), LS Sweet Love Eye Shadow Palette, LS - The Cassie Palette, 4w25 - CutenessIntensifiesBlush, Pralinesims_Nails_Female_N27_SugarMilk, GPME - Nose Blush, Pralinesims - UltimateLipstickCollection, Katverse - Camila Lipstick, dfj-kellyhb5 Lustrous Gloss, PS - BlushN29, RemusSirion - eyeshadow_56_Myxa, RemusSirion - Lipstick_233-Proteomics

Accessories: serenity_EvaEarrings, [RIMINGS] G Crystal Earring, Pralinesims - UltimateEarringCollection, [Liliili] - EA-Earrings Collection 3, grafity - DaisyEarrings

Tray files are available on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/lizzisimss

Please consider supporting if you wish :)

[vague-homosexual-crimes]

The Dream Thieves moments I will be thinking about for the next week at least:

“I wish you could be kissed, Jane,” he said. “Because I would beg just one off you. Under all this.” He flailed an arm toward the stars.

Oh? My god?? and then they hold each other, cheek to cheek, and he says “and we never speak of it again” I’m distraught

“Ronan’s second secret was Adam Parrish.”Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. He LOVES him.

Ronan and Kavinsky. That’s it. Maggie’s crazy for those two. He just. Killed himself. That’s. What Ronan could’ve been. Almost was. Man. Yeah.

I recall disliking The Gray Man the first read. Not sure why. Not my favorite point of view but I’m incredibly biased but like he’s a cool character. Go Maura and her hot girl summer.

Homophobic Adansey kiss.

Seriously the fight scene and then Adam wandering along the side of the highway. Cabeswater trying to talk to Adam and Adam not knowing what it meant.

Ronan going to the Barn’s again for the first time since Niall died.

[jolieeason]

WWW Wednesday: February 7th, 2024

WWW Wednesday is a weekly meme Sam hosts at Taking on a World of Words. The Three Ws are: What are you currently reading? What did you recently finish reading? What do you think you’ll read next? Here is what I am currently reading, recently finished, and plan to read from Thursday to Wednesday. Let me know if you have read or are planning on reading any of these books!! Happy…

[dirtyrobber70]

One of the myriad ways I feel cheated by the Rizzoli and Isles writers is this: Jane was bonkers happy about Maura's bday gift of a session at racing school and we never got to see it. The idea of Jane behind the wheel of a race car in a Nomex jumpsuit and Maura presenting her with a trophy or certificate , or a kiss on the cheek (?) for her participation is definitely in permanent rotation in my Rizzles brain. Any artists out there *cough @miz-chase *cough* @batteryacidbarb - toyed with this idea? Just a thought if you ever run out of inspiration! 😁

[pocket-ozwynn]

Genesis Day: Chapter 8

[Kaiju!AU]

Previous Chapter(s): Chapter 7  // Interlude

Next Chapter: Coming soon...

Word Count: 6157

CW: Blood, brief references to death

(art used with permission from @chamomile-g-tea​)

Everything was still.

That wasn’t to say it was quiet, however. Alice’s ears still rang from the explosions; the wind still howled through the boughs of the trees as rain still poured; and Freyja was still swallowing deep, cavernous breaths that made the very air shudder around him. 

And yet, he could breathe.

His lungs ached from running, and his head was spinning. It had worked–the hastily cobbled together fireworks had paid off, and he had given Freyja the breathing room (quite literally) to bring down the robotic titan. The war machine was now just another piece of motionless junk for the forsaken cabin’s collection. 

As the synapses started to fire a bit more in Alice’s brain, he took a careful step back to study her. She was bleeding from the forehead and the abdomen, but it was hard to tell if the injuries were bad. If you compare by quantity, she was probably bleeding liters worth of blood–but that could easily be nothing for her at this new size. And while she didn’t seem bothered by it, he didn’t feel his worries assuaged.

He paused when he noticed she was looking at him as well. She studied him through rain and blood, while residual arcs of lightning crackled across her flushed cheeks as she struggled to catch her breath. What could she possibly be looking for?

He didn’t realize how long they’d been staring at one another till his neck started to ache.

“S-so…” Freyja awkwardly chuckled, her glowing eyes breaking away long enough to examine the machine. “I guess Iron Giant is a thing now, huh?”

“G-Guess so.” Alice finally allowed his shoulders to relax.

She wiped a bit of the blood that trickled down her face. “Tonight’s just full of surprises…”

Alice trudged through the mud towards the wreckage. He ran his fingertips along the metal of the robot’s leg as he moved up the length of it, feeling the divots and welding marks with his pruned fingertips.

“Someone built this,” Alice noted. He could feel a rumbling, but he was too distracted to pay it much mind. “But who? And WHY?”

The shaking grew more pronounced as Alice mulled over the worrisome implications. He looked over his shoulder to pose another question, but the words stuck in his throat as he noticed the rumbling and where it was coming from–Freyja, and she didn’t even seem to notice. He completely forgot the question as he looked all the way up. It was hard for him to think straight when a woman the size of a building walked right on up and squatted down next to him.

“Yeah, weird…” Freyja looked over the chassis. “But I’m pretty sure if the Army had giant robots, I would’ve heard somethin’ about it.”

Alice wasn’t so sure about that. He knew from his time with Maura that there were plenty of projects that R&D kept classified. But then again, it also would be hard to keep something like machines that turn people into colorful colossi a secret–but here they were.

He shook the thought from his head as he gave the plating a knock. “Well, whoever built it wasn’t counting on someone as big and strong as you, Frey.”

Freyja blinked and a fresh wave of electricity rolled across her cheeks. She grinned and flexed her bicep in reply.

“You got THAT right.” Freyja’s hearty laughter was so loud it made Alice’s bones shiver. And, surprisingly, Alice found himself giggling as well. “They gotta try a lot harder next time!” 

Next time. 

How many times were they going to have to do this? Tonight they got lucky, but how long until that luck ran out? His eyes went back to her abdomen–she was holding the wound now. “You’re bleeding. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot,” Freyja chuckled through her grimace, though Alice wasn’t quite sure if she was serious or not. “But I’m fine…I promise. I’ve had worse.”

He wasn’t fully convinced, but he would trust her for now. He tore his gaze from her to look back at the robot, and as he did so, something caught his eye.

“Hey, don’t move for a sec?” Alice asked as he stepped under her knee so he could get out of the rain. She made a noise, but didn’t protest. He squinted to try to get a better look without getting pelted in the face by the storm.

He could spy a thin shaft of light peeking through a small hole in the robot’s chest.

A panel must’ve been knocked loose during the fight with Freyja. He chewed his lip as a risky thought came to mind. 

“Hey! I have an idea,” Alice called up to her. She put her head down between her knees so she could get a better look at him. “It might be stupid though.”

“Great,” Freyja replied with a toothy grin. Her wet hair fell down like curtains. “I love stupid ideas–I’m full of ‘em.”

Alice was starting to appreciate her levity–it made all of this chaos a bit more bearable. He giggled and shook his head before pointing towards the robot. “I think there’s a weak spot in its chest, and I see some light coming up… If we can pry it open, I can crawl in and check it out. Maybe there’s something worth salvaging that can help us out?”

His smile fell as he saw the hesitation in her eyes. He looked away, now embarrassed for even suggesting it to the giant. “Ahhhhhh, nevermind. It’s stupid.”

“No no!” Freyja quickly protested. “I think that’s a great idea! We just don’t have a lotta time to waste, that’s all…” 

“Yeah…you’re right.” Alice ran a hand through his sopping hair and sighed. He held the tablet to his chest and tried to think what they should do next. “I just…I’m not sure when we’ll get another chance like this.”

Freyja pursed her lips. “...how confident are you that you’ll find somethin’ useful in there?”

Alice shrugged. “Not sure. But if something like this comes after us again, I’d like to try and find SOMETHING that might help.”

Freyja nodded, then smiled upside down. “Okay. I trust you.”

She lowered her hand with the palm up, her spiked knuckles sinking into the mud. “Here, let’s getchu up there.”

Alice stared at her hand. She was offering to carry him? He blinked, completely flummoxed that this was his new reality now. He stepped up with a nod of thanks, then carefully walked towards the middle of her palm. She slowly raised her hand up, and he tried to maintain his footing. He couldn’t help but hold his breath, wondering if he would ever get used to these sensations. Once her hand came to rest on the robot’s chest, he hopped down.

The sensation as he walked across the hull was bizarre. It reminded him of all the times he’d look out the window of the airplane as a kid, just to imagine what it’d feel like to walk across the wing.

After making the trek up its chest, he knelt down to examine the hole in the paneling. It seemed that the armor had peeled back just enough for a bit of light to poke through, but not enough for him to get a look inside. Alice looked up to Freyja. “Mind giving me a hand?”

Freyja took her claw and began to work at the hole to widen it, before hooking the tip beneath the lip and gently peeling it back.

He smiled with quiet gratitude before taking a look inside. With the flickering white light illuminating most of his view, Alice ascertained that this was probably some kind of vent or service tunnel. The opening was a bit tight, but manageable–he’d crawled through worse. As he started to scope out the possible spots he could use as footholds, he remembered something. He looked down at Maura’s tablet and pursed his lips, knowing he wouldn’t be able to climb with it. 

It felt strangely heavy in his hand.

“Hey, Frey?” She tilted her head. Her eyes went down towards his hand as he offered the tablet to her. “Can you hold onto this? I can’t take it with me.”

Freyja’s expression softened. She held out her hand again–the person-sized fingers unfurled gently for him, like petals of a flower.

“I’ll take good care of it,” she smiled softly. “I promise.”

There was something about the way she looked at him that gave him pause. 

Alice swallowed and mouthed a quiet thank you before gingerly setting the tablet into her hand. He watched as Freyja gingerly closed her fingers around it and pulled it back to her. 

With Maura’s tablet safe, Alice crawled over towards the hole and reached a foot down to gingerly test his weight on a pipe that he figured might be a good place to start. He applied a bit more pressure. It would do.

“Wish me luck,” he breathed as he looked over the rim of his glasses with a smile. She grinned in reply as he began his descent.

The rain thundered as Alice ducked down past the steel skin of the giant. The deeper he descended, the more clearly he could hear the distant hissing of punctured pipes, sparking wires, and the grinding of downshifting gears as the titan settled into its own robotic rigor mortis. There was almost a comforting nostalgia as he wriggled through the pipes and tubing. It made him miss Lexine. He wondered how she was doing… 

He had to stop briefly to readjust his grip and catch his breath, but as he did so he felt a bit of anxiety start bleeding into his thoughts.

This is so stupid, he thought. What am I thinking? This is a GIANT ROBOT. This tech is WAY beyond me…there’s no way I’m going to find anything useful for us…

Alice tried to think what he would say to Freyja when he crawled out empty handed. Maybe he could lie and say there was a dead end, and that he couldn’t go any further. Would she think he was a coward if he didn’t try hard enough?

What could he-

He froze as he saw something slither out of the corner of his eye–in the thicket of cables to his immediate left.

But before he had time to react, he heard a fan groan to life and everything around him LURCH and SHUDDER. He gasped as he felt plates beginning to move around him and could hear the clunking of giant cogs nearby as they began to turn once more.

Everything started to move too fast–the pieces he was using for footholds twisted and shot off out of sight. His biceps screamed as he now relied wholly on his upper-body strength for support. But even now, he could feel his grip beginning to slip.

No, Alice’s heart broke as he realized he was going to die.

With a hiss and a SHWOOMP, the tube that he was gripping with his left hand shot back into the wall. His right shoulder felt like it was going to be yanked from his socket as all weight fell upon it. He went to reach for a new handhold with his left hand, but had to quickly duck as the section of wall that was at head level shuddered then turned suddenly. He felt it whiff right above his head before slamming into place at his right.

Close! he breathed as he went to raise his head, his left hand moving once more…

An explosion of pain blossomed out from the back of his skull as something hit him from behind. He could only manage a groan as his vision swam with darkness and spots. 

He hardly noticed his right hand slip from the impact.

Alice plummeted. He tried to regain his senses enough to grab onto something–anything–but it was too late. Everything was moving far too fast. He wasn’t quite sure what would happen when he finally came to a sto-

THOOMP.

All of the wind was knocked out of him as Alice finally came to a stop.

“That…was awful,” he groaned as he clenched his eyes tight. His shoulder ached and his lowerback was throbbing. What had he landed on? He was also surrounded by hissing, and he wasn’t sure why.

After a few moments of composing himself, Alice slowly opened his eyes and stared up at the source.

It appeared that Alice had fallen down into a spherical space roughly the size of a kitchen. Everything bathed with eerie whitenoise that came from a series of monitors that encompassed the space--its combined glow must’ve been just enough for him to see outside. 

Alice’s skin crawled from the noise as he slowly pushed himself up–he was surprised at the leathery give beneath his hand. He looked down and noticed he was in some sort of chair that was suspended in the air by six metal arms that connected out to the inside of a gyroscope. Dangling within reach from the gyroscope were a series of devices and instruments that he couldn’t readily identify.

He made a mental checklist as he started to look around: dials, gauges, levers. He wasn’t an aerospace engineer, but there was a certain familiarity to the makeup of this room.

This…is a cockpit, Alice slowly realized. It was a bit hard to tell at first, but this was basically some kind of ‘command bridge,’ just tipped on its side because the mech was laying on its back. He licked his lips and swallowed. It would make sense, right? Instruments, monitors, a command chair that could readjust according to the gyroscope’s position within the core of this walking dreadnought. Drone technology was one thing, but a machine of this size would surely need a human element. Even something remotely piloted probably wouldn’t be able to handle all of the intricacies involved with-

Alice’s heart stopped.

It would need a pilot.

Where’s the pilot?

Alice scrambled to sit up in the vertical chair–his eyes darting around wildly as the new panic started to boil. He looked underneath the chair to see if the pilot was lurking in the space below, but saw nothing.

His heart raced as he nervously swallowed. He looked around once more. Was it the movement in the cables? He couldn’t count on that. If the pilot was still in here, Alice was in danger. There was no one he could go toe-to-toe with whoever nearly killed Frey–mech or not.

He was struggling to breathe with how fast his heart was racing, but after looking around for a fourth time he still didn’t see anyone–no pilot, and no sign of a body. Maybe there was some kind of escape hatch? There had to be something like that in here…but if there was, Alice couldn’t spot it.

He waited silently in the glow of the whitenoise before deciding it was probably safe for him to get down. If the pilot was here, he had a feeling they would’ve done something by now. With a bit of awkward maneuvering, Alice crawled from the chair down one of the arms of the gyroscope then dropped the last couple of feet onto one of the monitors below. The screen barely bowed.

“Alright, let’s see what we got…” he breathed as he pulled off his glasses to give them a bit of a wave in an attempt to air dry them, before he started to poke around the sideways cockpit.

He wasn’t quite sure how long he spent searching, but it was long enough to start to feel frustrated. Due to the nature of the room, he could only really feasibly explore a fraction of it without having to resort to climbing.

A lot of the instruments were annoying, in that they looked so close to something that he could grasp but was just a few degrees off his understanding. So most of the time he spent silently pontificating to himself as to what all of these things might do, without being able to confidently settle on whether it was worth trying to salvage.

His eye did spy something slightly sticking out of the floor right beneath the pilot’s gyroscope chair–which meant, it was coming out of the wall from his point of view. He walked beneath it and spied a bit of a strap hanging down from the object. A case of some kind? 

“Better than nothing,” Alice murmured to himself, a spark of curiosity flickering within the mounting discouragement. He crouched and then sprung up–he tried to extend his body, arm, and fingers as long as they could go to try and get the strap. His palm slapped uselessly against the rubber floor.

He grunted as he landed. He looked up and sneered at the strap. He was 5’10” danggit and wasn’t going to be outdone by something JUST out of his reach. He tried a second time…then a third…a fourth…then with a yell of frustration and with a running jump off a monitor screen and keyboard, on the fifth attempt he felt the tip of his middle finger hook the strap.

“HA!” Alice cheered as he dropped, pulling the strap down with him. He could hear the grinding of the object as it was pulled free. “Take th-” 

His victory was cut short, as the object the strap was attached to–which was far heavier than he first anticipated–dropped and nearly hit him on the head. With a yelp, Alice managed to sidestep just in time for it to hit the monitor he’d been standing on.

He felt heat in his cheeks from getting startled so easily, but his embarrassment melted away as he noticed something stenciled on the side of the object.

He knelt down to examine it. The object had a hard-shell casing and latches on one side. There didn’t appear to be any lock, so he wasn’t quite sure what could be in here. Probably nothing important, but his interest was still piqued. He moved the case into the light of the monitors that shined from above so he could make out the stencil.

T-Y-R GAMMA. Alice furrowed his brow. At least, he assumed that was a Gamma and not just an upside down L. There was some kind of government logo above that, but he couldn’t quite make out despite this lighting–it looked like it had been stamped on improperly. While he would’ve loved to know what department of the government had sent this thing to step on him, the name TYR GAMMA was a start. He pulled the case a bit closer and popped the latches.

Inside he found things he recognized immediately: MREs, a compass, a first-aid kit, water purifying tablets, an emergency blanket–complete with a complimentary tent. This was a survival kit! He wasn’t quite sure how long the stuff in here was made to last, but he was grateful to find something useful. 

Alice actually felt a bit hopeful. This wasn’t a silver bullet, but it would get them clean water and  some food…and even a bit of shelter and direction too! He wasn’t quite sure where they’d go thanks to a compass, but it was a step in the right direction. And now that he had a first-aid kit, he could clean up Freyja’s wounds and make sure they didn’t get infected–the thing he had been silently fretting since saw her glowing bl-

Alice paused as realization hit him like a hammer to glass.

She was huge.

He let the emergency blanket fall from his fingers as guilt and worry washed over him. This kit would be able to provide for one person, but it absolutely wasn’t going to be able to cover Frey. The MREs and purified water would be miniscule, the emergency tent could be draped over a finger, and the first-aid kit…well, if he was lucky he could use the whole bottle of rubbing alcohol provided, it might be able to properly disinfect the cut on her forehead. But the wound on her stomach looked serious.

But he couldn’t keep all of this for himself–he absolutely refused to. How was it fair that he got to eat and drink and have a blanket, while Freyja got her life thrown upside down and mutated into this titanic living thunderstorm. What would her future be like? How long could she go without adequate sustenance? What would happen to her if the military caught her?

He wanted to help, he NEEDED to help…

No, he needed to fix this.

Wasn’t that Maura’s last words to him? When she looked at him pleadingly? He was tired, his memory was fuzzy…

All of this was because it was his fault. He should’ve been smart enough to stop the Engine from activating. He should’ve been smart enough to prevent Freyja’s body and life from being utterly ruined.

He should’ve been able to save Maura.

Crunch.

Alice jumped. It looked like something had dropped on one of the monitors and cracked the screen, but the ill timing of it made him sick to his stomach. It conjured up far too many images of Maura that he couldn’t shake.

He closed the lid of the kit, and slowly laid down on the muddy, shoe print-painted monitor. It was hard to breathe again. Tears started well up. Why couldn’t he get those images out of his head? They weren’t real…he was just imagining them.

That didn’t make the hurt any less real.

He pulled the survival kit up onto his chest, closed his eyes, and hugged the inflexible object as tight as he could. It didn’t help.

What were they going to do?

In here, he felt…surprisingly safe. Protected, even. Hidden within this hollow heart, he felt like he didn’t have anything to worry about. But he knew the moment he stepped back outside he would have to face his heart wrenching, unfair new reality.

He didn’t fight the tears this time. He let them flow freely, but he wasn’t quite sure who he was crying for.

What was he THINKING? This was so beyond what he was able to handle. He was useless. He found nothing of worth to Freyja in here, Maura was dead, and now Alice was just going to…what? Lay here and cry? He couldn’t kick tanks away or wrestle skyscraper-sized robots like Frey…he was just deadweight to her. Just an obligation–a burden. He could barely hold it together mentally, and he had nothing of use to her. He couldn’t even get her a glass of water.

So what good was he?

“I-I…I can’t do this,” Alice whimpered.

Alice jumped as the mech shuddered three times with a resounding THOOM THOOM THOOM.

“You okay in there?”

It was Freyja. He shouldn’t be surprised that he could hear her voice all the way down here. That was probably her knocking.

Alice wiped the tears quickly and tried to recompose himself. He stood up and slung the kit’s strap over one shoulder. He cupped his hands and yelled: “YEAH! I’M OKAY! COULD YOU MAYBE OPEN UP A BIGGER HOLE? I FELL IN AND CAN’T GET OUT.”

A beat. Had she heard him? He screwed up his mouth and realized his voice probably didn’t carry out in the same ways hers did. He clambered up one of the arms to the chair again and stood up on the back. Maybe she could hear him from up here?

“HEY FREY, DID YOU HEAR M-

SCREEEEEEEEEEECH. Alice crouched and braced himself with a gasp as everything lurched, he could hear metal tearing and pipes bursting. He looked up as the shaking intensified. One by one the monitors started to go dark as he saw the metal behind them bow and shiver before familiar clawed fingers started to pry their way into view. Finally, Freyja got a good grip and PULLED the chest of the mech open–monitors and instruments flew everywhere. The sound of twisting metal and shattering glass was a cacophony of destruction as she came to his aid.

The glow of her eyes enveloped the room as she looked down at him. Rain fell into the cockpit, but it had relaxed to a little more than a drizzle.

He was surprisingly grateful to see those eyes.

Freyja blushed and chuckled nervously, she pulled her hands back. “S-Sorry! I…probably should’ve given you a little warning first, huh?”

She laughed, then looked at him…her brow furrowed slightly. 

“Hey…” She said with surprising softness. She reached a hand into the hole, her thick fingers serving as a platform for him to step up. “Are…you okay?”

Alice silently stepped up onto her fingers–his feet sunk a bit in the leathery pads as he walked. When he finally got into the hollow of her hand, he fell to his knees.

Right there in the middle of her palm was Maura’s tablet. It stared up at him impassively. He gathered it up and silently slipped it into the kit. Hopefully it’d be safer there. 

She gingerly lifted him up out of the mech’s chest and to her face. And though he didn’t meet her gaze, it felt impossible to hide from those colossal eyes.

Alice shivered. He finally went to reply, but a rogue sob managed to slip past his lips. Freyja made an empathic noise and sat back on her haunches as she waited patiently for him to continue. Alice desperately wanted to hide.

“I-I…um…” Alice tried starting again. Tears rolled down his cheeks. He couldn’t help it. He silently shook his head. Freyja swallowed and nodded.

Alice wasn’t sure how long they sat in silence. Eventually, one of her large fingers bent forward to gingerly tap her thumb. Alice frowned and looked up for clarification.

“I’m a hugger,” Freyja’s voice broke as she smiled sadly. “And…I’d give you a hug right now if I could. But seeing as I, um…well, can’t…I figure my thumb is the next best thing, right? I know it’s not, like, a person, but-”

Alice didn’t hesitate, he flung himself at the thumb. He threw his arms around the digit and buried his face into the padding–forget about the glasses, he didn’t care. He dug his fingers as tightly as he could into the leathery skin and muscle. He could feel her pulse. His knees sank into the muscle of the palm that connected to the base of the thumb. Her thumb was surprisingly warm.

Freyja gingerly turned her hand at the wrist, and curled her fingers around his legs and lower chest so he could be gently held within her fist while he hugged her thumb. It was an asymmetrical reciprocation, but the gesture was genuine. Alice wriggled down a bit while still holding on to her thumb, so his chest could get swallowed up in the grip as well as he kept his arms out around the trunk of her thumb. He kept his face buried against her.

She gently squeezed him. At first, it surprised him–it felt like a bit of an all-over hug. But it was the safest, most secure feeling Alice could ever imagine. She wouldn’t let him fall…she’d keep him safe. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew that, but he trusted her.

They didn’t count the minutes as she just let him bitterly weep into her handheld embrace.

…

…

The VTOL’s engines growled as it made its final descent. 

The ominous red lights of the interior cast long shadows across the soldiers’ faces as they patiently listened to their marching orders from Lieutenant Palmer. Meanwhile, General Donovan moved towards the bay doors–she had other matters to attend to tonight.

The crackling report from the pilot indicated that it would be landing in a few minutes, but she couldn’t sit still. She had read the reports so many times she had them practically memorized and her eyes were starting to itch from how long she had stared at the tablet screen. She reached up to grab one of the eye level safety straps for support as a bit of turbulence rocked them. She brought her hand up to touch her daughter’s necklace she kept beneath her coat–her thumb rubbed soft circles across the surface of the keratin as she tried to gather her thoughts.

This never got easier.

Donovan held tighter as they landed with a lurch. She heard the clatter of gear as the soldiers rose to join her. The bay door opened, the ramp descended, and an errant gust sprayed rain across her face. She grimaced with a shiver before pulling up her hood and drawing her greatcoat tighter over her uniform as she briskly made her down. The ramp trembled behind her as the rest of the platoon followed suit.

Her eyes followed the height of Ground Zero’s quarantine wall as her boots splashed across wet pavement. She felt a bit of heartbreak starting to creep in as her eyes lingered. She allowed that pain to stay, but only as a reminder of why she had to stay focused tonight. There would be shouts of anger, tears, and unanswerable questions but with all the meetings she knew she’d have to have, she would need to be the strong one. 

If not her, then who? 

She looked over to the left as she heard a yell. The remainder of Fort Jeffrey’s able-bodied forces were a few kilometers away amidst a smoldering field of ruin–the location where NUVA-002 rose. Donovan could make out the crushed trucks, the overturned embankments, the ripped open cargo containers with their content strewn about and still burning.

Her eyes lingered on the two largely collapsed buildings nearby. Officers were barking orders to those who were frantically excavating what they could in hopes of reaching survivors. She saw how many triage tents were set up nearby, but a part of her knew it would do little good. 

She wondered what had gone through 002’s head the moment they transformed. What was the emotion that the victim clung to as they found their entire body unmade then rewritten? What caused 002 to lash out the way that they had? 

Donovan wasn’t quite sure what she might’ve done, had the roles been reversed.

As she made a cursory glance across the search and rescue efforts for the base commander, she heard a voice call for her over the roaring rain. “General Donovan!”

Two figures approached her from the quarantine zero: Agent Wendig and Captain Edo. 

“At ease,” she told the captain after spying their salute. She turned her attention to Wendig as she took the lead back towards the entrance. “Any updates?”

“SEER is attempting to reboot,” Wendig explained as they stepped into the quarantine zone’s sequestered hallways. The space felt oppressive. Clouds of dust floated in front of the tripod mounted lights that lit up the corridor, and the sound of rain against the roof made the general feel even more on edge. “The Nephilim-class aren’t like the other Kaiju. We’ve only had one set of data to work from in the past, and now we’re working to try and track down two at the same time. SEER’s adapting on the fly–we should be able to better triangulate the Kaiju’s positions soon.”

The general sighed as she moved on to the next subject. “Any luck on identifying the ones who dropped off the device?”

“No ma’am.” Edo shook their head. “A leading theory is that they’re cultists. The Children of Nibiru have a cloister down the mountain from here-”

“-but the Children aren’t paramilitary,” the agent interjected. “Whoever brought in the device not only had access to military-grade equipment, but they had military clearance. They were let right in and a base officer coordinated the drop-off.”

She earned a few more salutes from passing soldiers and engineers, but her mind was far too troubled to notice. 

The general’s nails dug into her palms as she set her jaw. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Eleven years, and this was the first proof of human involvement. 

The general steadied her breathing as they walked in relative silence. She could hear the low hum of commotion that echoed down the hall as they neared Ground Zero proper. “And what of this officer? Lieutenant Sinclair?”

“MIA.” Edo ran a hand over his fuzzy scalp. “Eyewitnesses indicate she was inside the warehouse during the device’s activation, but we haven’t found her body yet. Someone claimed they saw her thrown out by one of the resulting shockwaves, but we haven’t been able to corroborate that.”

That didn’t prove much, there were a lot of reasons why they couldn’t find the conspirator’s body. Having Sinclair alive was preferable, but that didn’t mean the lieutenant couldn’t have left a paper trail. They’d have to look into that further once the immediate danger had passed.

As they rounded the bend, she could finally see the entrance to Ground Zero. And though it was sealed off by a reinforced door, she could still hear the buzz of dozens of technicians and specialists working furiously on the other side. Flanking the entrance, were two pairs of Nobodies who stood as dark, silent sentinels who saluted immediately at the sight of the general.

She murmured a quiet “at ease” as she stopped and turned to face Edo and Wendig. Now that she stood close to the door, she could feel a tug from her daughter’s necklace in the direction of Ground Zero. Then she felt a slight shiver up her whole body, as the sensation extended past only the necklace. 

“And the witnesses?” she asked, looking from one to the other. She heard one of the Nobodies typing in the access codes for the door. “Are they available for me to speak to them?”

“Yes ma’am,” Wendig replied. “They have agreed to give us their full cooperation.”

The door hissed open behind her. 

“Good.” General Donovan nodded. She turned, then made her way inside.

Ground Zero was deafening. Technicians and engineers had set up all sorts of portable instruments and devices, and no one seemed content to keep their voices down as they relayed the readings they were receiving from either the horror above or the scar below.

She made her way around a fenced-off crater, though the general knew what it really was. They had mapped out two distinct sets of gigantic footprints–one for 001 and one for 002–left craters in the concrete. 001’s went away from Ground Zero, while 002’s went towards before veering off in a different direction. It made Donovan numb just thinking about it. 

She turned her gaze upwards to drink in the gravityless graveyard of crumpled trucks, shattered cargo…

…and lifeless bodies. Everything that floated in this illogical, zero-g bubble was suspended in a miasma of haunting, celestial light.

But her attention wasn’t on the footprints or the horror above, but rather the cordoned off piece of concrete. 

She felt their eyes as she walked the length of Ground Zero. She knew why so many of them lowered their voices now, as if to give her as much space as possible. She didn’t need their empathy, but she appreciated it.

Her eyes analyzed every detail she could about that single piece of concrete as she approached. To the untrained eye, someone might assume that a grenade had gone over that spot. But the scorched halo was far too wide for just a single grenade–it seemed to originate from a point that was at least six feet by six feet. No explosive could be that big without breaking the ground beneath it, and a grenade wouldn’t cause the scorch marks to twist and curl into patterns of unnatural symmetry and complexity. 

No, this hadn’t been a grenade–this is the spot where the device was activated. This was where the lives of two people were altered forever, and by their actions the fate of tens of thousands might hang in the balance based on their actions. They were a genesis for everything that would follow.

For the last eleven years, the secrecy of Kaijus had been maintained, but the glass was cracked–all it would take would be a tap in the wrong place, and the only thing would come crashing down. 

But that wasn’t the thing that scared Donovan the most. Agent Wendig went to speak again, but the general ignored her. 

She stared at the familiar markings on the concrete. She didn’t need to touch those intricately carved shadows, she remembered vividly how they felt. She’d seen them only once before, but didn’t know where they had come from…now she did. There was a certain degree of closure in that, but she still felt a rising anger to the point of nausea bubbling in her chest.  All she could wonder is where the device had gone, who had stolen it, and when they would strike next.

[julieverne]

Maura kisses Jane when she's had a few drinks.

Not in, like, a gay way. She just looks up at Jane with shining eyes and plants one on her. Sometimes it's followed with a slurred 'I freaking love you', and sometimes it's preceded by it. Jane learns her tells pretty quickly, but she never has the heart to dodge them.

---

The first time was in The Dirty Robber. They'd been drinking after a case, and Frost had joined them. They sat on the same side of the booth so women wouldn't think one of them was with him; they didn't want to ruin his pickup game. Jane hadn't noticed the little flush of histamines on Maura's cheeks. She hadn't noticed Maura leaning against her, so involved with the conversation with Frost about their case that she'd merely slung an arm over her and kept talking. When Frost got up to get another round, Jane looked over, and Maura pulled her in close, hand fisted in the front of Jane's tee.

It hadn't been passionate, it had just been a kiss. The sort that bridesmaids give each other on a hens night, the kind that straight women gave each other when they had good news. Jane had chuckled awkwardly, and Maura pulled away from her closed mouth, looking up at Jane with a grin.

"You're so smart. I can't believe you caught that guy."

"It's your evidence that's going to put him away," Jane said gently, a little unsettled. A compliment and a kiss. It was a little too soft and girly for her, but Maura had always been a little too soft and girly for her. That was part of what she liked about her. Jane had enough rumours about her sexuality flying around the precinct, and this was a cop bar. She looked around, but no one seemed to have noticed. Jane hadn't minded; Maura had nice breath and she hadn't mauled her. It hadn't been gross or anything. It hadn't even been particularly unwanted. Part of her wondered if she should mind, but it was hardly a confession of love or attraction. It was just something drunk straight girls did, wasn't it? Maura reached for her glass, but tipped it over instead.

"You're drunk," Jane realised out loud, tightening her arm around Maura's shoulders, glad Frost hadn't seen the kiss. Even though he'd know there was nothing to it, he would heckle Jane relentlessly.

Frost came back with three drinks, and Jane pulled Maura's out of her reach. "You've had enough to drink," Jane said gently, and Maura pouted, slumping against Jane. Frost chuckled, jumping in where he'd left off, while Jane pointed out pretty women at the bar giving him glances.

---

The next time, Constance was staying over. She'd brought wine, and Maura had had a little more than one glass. Jane had had one; she didn't mind a wine or beer, but she stayed pretty sober. PTSD and drinking didn't mix well; she'd learned that fast after Hoyt. Then there was Tommy and Frank, examples that alcohol addiction didn't look good on Rizzolis. Even Jane was feeling the buzz, though; not too heavy, but enough that she excused herself from the table to get some water. She didn't want nightmares later, and she still had to drive home.

Maura joined her in the kitchen, giggling as she stumbled and Jane caught her.

She looked up at Jane, who held her with one arm around her, holding her by the hip, then she looked at Jane's chest, then back up at Jane, her eyes shining, her smile glorious.

"You always save me," Maura said, her voice so low that Jane had to lean down a little to hear her. Maura leaned up a little and pressed her lips to Jane's, quick and easy. "Thanks," Maura said, her cheeks flushed from wine.

Jane held the glass she'd filled from the sink and held it to the lips that had just touched hers until Maura gave in and drank from it.

"You need this more than me," Jane mumbled, her voice low and amused.

Constance and Angela, at the table, looked away when Jane glanced over at them. It was fine. They knew they were just friends. It wasn't like either of them were homophobic either - Constance had been talking about a queer exhibit she'd defended in West Virginia last month, and Angela had shook her head.

"How can anyone hate love," she'd said, looking over at Jane.

Maura drank half the glass before pulling away, shaking her head. Rather than dirty another glass, Jane finished the water and poured another. Her thumb rubbed the crest of Maura's hip, holding her close in case she stumbled again.

"Am I embarassing myself?" Maura asked, sotto voice. Jane chuckled and drank some more water. She turned to look at Maura, who focused her intense gaze on Jane's eyes, seeking an answer. Jane brought up a hand and used two fingers to brush a lock of hair away from Maura's forehead, tucking it behind her ear, then let those fingers drift onto Maura's cheek.

"You could never," Jane told her. "But you're definitely tipsy."

Maura's brow furrowed. She took the glass from Jane's hand and sipped from it.

"I'm being a terrible host," Maura confessed. "Leaving my guests alone at the dining table."

"They're fine. They both love you."

Maura looked uncertain, and it hurt Jane to see just how much she questioned people's affection for her.

"Everyone here loves you, Maura," Jane told her, and Maura's uncertainty turned into a shy smile. Jane knew she'd gotten through to her. Maura's arm wrapped around Jane's waist and she leaned against her. "Even if you are a lightweight," Jane added, rubbing Maura's back.

---

The next time was a Rizzoli gathering. They usually didn't drink, but Tommy was out of town, so it was just Frankie and Jane and Angela in Maura's courtyard, catching up over Sunday dinner. Jane and Frankie fought over who worked the barbeque, and Jane brought Maura her plate first, sitting beside her. Maura's skin glowed in the dusk light, her smile luminescent in twilight. Jane ducked her head to hide the smile on her face, to hide the way Maura made her smile. Maura, caught up in the silliness of Jane and Frankie, stole Jane's beer, wrinkling her nose at the taste of it. God, she was so cute Jane could barely stand it.

So she didn't complain when Maura hauled her inside to get the fresh berries they'd picked upstate for dessert. Maura paused at the counter, looking up at Jane, and Jane was kind of expecting it this time.

Maura got up on her tiptoes in her flats, one hand on Jane's hip, and she pressed her mouth against Jane's.

"Today was perfect. Thank you."

Jane shrugged shyly; it had just been the usual Rizzoli chaos. Maura was still looking up at her like she was a sunset or a fancy painting that coat more than Jane's condo. "I really freaking love you," Maura added. "And your family. I'm so glad I have you."

"Me too," Jane agreed. She snagged a blueberry, chewed it, then pressed her mouth to Maura's, hoping she tasted as good as Maura always did. Maura's smile was shy but no less beautiful for the blue staining her lips.

---

The next time was after the election. Giovanni had been depressed about his candidate, and he'd joined them for a drink. He'd hinted again at a threesome, but Maura, after a single drink this time, had kissed Jane solidly without flinching.

"I'm not sharing her," Maura said possessively, holding Jane's hand on the table. Jane had rolled her eyes when Frankie and Frost and Korsak gave her raised eyebrows from across the room, but she'd tucked her arm over Maura's shoulders and kissed her temple.

"Never look a gift horse in the mouth," Jane said, shrugging.

"I'm hardly a horse, Jane,"

"Come on, I know you know the origin of that phrase."

"Typically a horse's age can be determined by the length and wear on their teeth. Are you saying I'm too old for you?"

"Christ," Jane said, exasperated. "Everything's an insult to you, isn't it? No, you're not old. You're not a horse. It's just something people say when they have something too good to be true. Something they don't think they deserve." Jane paused to realise the truth of that statement. Jane knew she wasn't good enough for Maura, but that was okay, because they weren't actually dating, just pretending.

Maura's eyes were big and teary, and Giovanni cleared his throat, uncomfortable with Jane's confession.

"I'm not something you need to deserve. I'm not something you need to earn."

"I know, but sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life." Jane wasn't surprised by the sincerity of her statements; she'd never felt good enough for Maura, and she knew she was lucky to have such a good friend. She'd taken in most of Jane's family, and Jane herself, in times of trouble. Maura's mouth trembled, a single tear spilling from her eye, and Jane caught it with the tip of her thumb, cradling Maura's face.

"Youse two are so sweet," Giovanni said. "I'm outta here before I gotta see a dentist." He joined Frost at the bar, and Jane pulled Maura closer.

"Don't cry," Jane whispered.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise for crying."

"I'm not used to hearing that people - that anyone values me."

"You mean beyond your immense fortune?" Jane joked, and Maura gave her a watery smile. "Look, I know we put on an act for G, but I do value you. Our friendship is the most important relationship I've ever had in my life. I am lucky to have you. Most people don't like dead body talk at dinner, and you're the one that usually starts it. Most people don't like knowing their friends get shot at-"

"I don't like it when you get shot at. Or shot."

"But you haven't - people abandoned me, after Hoyt."

"I'd never." Maura shot Jane an incredulous look that she'd even suspect it of her.

"I know," Jane immediately reassured her. "Look, I'm not good at all the mushy feelings stuff, but I meant what I said. I'm lucky to have you. I don't know what I did right to have you in my life, but I'm forever grateful I do."

Another tear leaked from Maura's eye, and Jane caught that one too. Maura's eyes closed, and Jane let herself cup Maura's face.

"I think I'm the lucky one," Maura said, her voice low. Her eyes opened and she looked at Jane. Jane could see the lonely, neglected child Maura had been, could see the insecure woman she'd initially met. But she could also see the strong, independent Doctor Maura Isles that championed not just herself but Jane. The ire in her voice when she'd chastised a nurse for Jane's empty morphine pump. The way she'd stood between a woman with a knife and Jane. Maura blinked and her expression changed, something impossibly sweet in her eyes before she pressed her mouth against Jane's again. She pulled away with a little smirk, her confidence returned. "You're lucky I love you," she challenged Jane.

Jane let her hand fall from Maura's face, picked up her beer and took a sip, feeling a little regret that it was washing away the feel of Maura against her lips. She looked intently at her beer bottle.

"Yeah, I am," Jane admitted, hearing Maura's triumphant chuckle as a reward.

--

The next time was at Camille's wedding. Jane was wearing a simple dress Maura had chosen for her - one comfortable enough that she wouldn't fidget through the service, but elegant in its simplicity and the way it flattered Jane's lanky form. Jane had danced with Frost, and Cam, and Frankie, and even Camille and Robyn. Maura had been on her feet all night, always someone ready to take the next dance with her, even Angela and Susie. Jane looked over, saw her glowing under the fairy lights, and excused herself from the conversation she was having with Korsak.

"May I have this dance?" Jane asked.

"Only if we swap shoes," Maura said immediately, and a moment later Jane led her over to the chairs, examining Maura's feet. "I'm okay," Maura reassured her, but Jane pulled a band-aid from her purse and covered a blister on Maura's heel anyway, trading their shoes. She rolled her eyes when her toes got pinched.

"Great, it's not like I wasn't tall enough already," Jane complained, but she helped Maura to her feet. The additional couple of inches difference in their heights meant that Maura could rest her head against Jane's chest as they swayed more than danced to the song playing. "Have you had a good night?"

"I've had a lovely night. It makes me mad that they can't get married back home, that the state won't recognise their partnership."

"Sometimes the law sucks," Jane agreed, and Maura chuckled, her hand tightening on Jane's waist. The lights dimmed and Maura pulled back, seeking Jane's face in the darkness. She really had to stretch this time, to kiss Jane. She had a few drinks, but they'd been there for hours. She lingered there a moment this time, then dropped back down, resting her head against Jane's chest again. Jane looked around; the lights were coming up again, someone had plugged in the strand over the wedding arch again. Not that she minded, but they were at a lesbian wedding, and people might get the wrong idea.

"I really, really, freaking love you, Jane. Mostly for swapping our shoes, but also for your other contributions to my personal comfort levels."

Jane chuckled, holding Maura closer. She closed her eyes and felt Maura's head resting over her heart. As lovely a night as Maura might have had, Jane was sure hers had been nicer, because it was ending with Maura.

---

Even Casey being back in Boston didn't deter Maura. They'd come home, giggling and whispering, and Casey had come out, tousled, from Jane's bedroom. Jane liked how she felt with him. She liked that no one questioned their relationship, that no one thought she was too close to Maura. Because she had Casey. He eyed Maura, then sighed.

"Guess I'm taking the couch," he said, resigned, and she loved that he offered, loved him for offering. Loved that he knew Maura came first. She kissed him, then dragged Maura to the bedroom, still giggling.

Maura looked cute in Jane's pyjamas. Jane had bought them specifically for Maura; they had a pattern of crowns on the pants, and the top had the word 'Diva' in gold across the chest, with a little crown tilted over the 'd'. Maura used her toothbrush, then brushed her hair as she watched Jane brush her teeth. The giggles were gone, and the sombre mood had returned; they'd had a rough case, and it had been hard on both of them. Jane was glad Maura was here, because she'd hate to think of Maura all alone in her big bed in Beacon Hill, thinking too much about what she could have done to find the killer sooner so there wouldn't have been a second victim, while Jane lay awake across town in Casey's arms, feeling inexplicably like she'd gone wrong somewhere.

"I should have-" Jane started, seeing what she should have seen earlier. That poor kid would be alive if she'd seen it sooner. Maura took Jane's toothbrush and put it back in the cup. Jane and Maura's shared a cup; Casey's sat on the bench in a travel clip. She turned Jane to look at her.

"It's not your fault," Maura told her sternly.

"I could have done something," Jane said, aware her voice was shaking.

"You know you're not responsible. That awful man would have found some other way to-" Maura shook her head. "I could have-"

"There was no way of knowing." Jane tried to reassure her. "He covered his tracks. We were all taken in by him. I know we both feel like we should have seen it sooner, but you've said it before. Serial killers integrate incredibly well." Maura nodded sadly, and Jane's heart broke a little. Jane was allowed to blame herself, but Maura wasn't. She'd worked long hours, she'd worked tirelessly despite the minute amount of evidence she'd had. That she'd found anything at all was close to miraculous. Jane hugged her, and Maura clung to her, her shoulders shaking. Jane carefully helped her down the hall to the bedroom, sat her down on the bed. She took the left side, forcing Maura onto the side Jane usually slept on. She wasn't making Maura sleep where Casey slept.

"You did everything you could," Jane said, hearing Maura's uneven breathing in the dark. Maura rolled over and found Jane in the bed, hovered over her for a moment, her fingers finding Jane's mouth before her lips did.

"I didn't, but I love you for saying that, even if it's not true." Maura's breath ghosted over Jane's face. Her lips were always soft, but tonight they were salty with the tears that had fallen on them unchecked. Jane found Maura's cheeks in the dark, brushed her thumbs across them.

"How is it not true?"

"I could have found it earlier. He left it there for me. He was taunting me."

"It is so far out of standard operating procedure to check the upper intestines for the momentos of a serial killer. And the fact that the second victim died before we even found the first means there was nothing you could have done. You couldn't have stopped him. We have stopped him, and it's because your brilliant mind found his sick souvenirs."

"I appreciate you saying that."

"Everything that happened was because he was a monster. None of it, not the timing, not the second death - none of it is your fault."

"If it's not mine, then it's not yours either," Maura said, and Jane loved that Maura knew Jane was blaming herself. Maura had stopped crying, but Jane's hands still cradled her face. She pulled Maura down a little lower, too ashamed to ask, too scared to do it herself. But Maura knew her, Maura understood her. Maura placed a gentle kiss of absolution on Jane, and she felt the tension leave them both. Maura tucked herself up on Jane's chest, her hands gripping Jane like a teddy bear.

It was only then that Jane remembered Casey in the other room, the smell of his aftershave on her sheets. Shouldn't she want to be in his arms, after a day like that? He'd understand, wouldn't he? All the self-recriminations, all the things Jane saw on the job. He'd understand.

But he didn't know Jane. Not the way Maura knew Jane. He didn't know how to ease her guilt with a single kiss.

And that made her feel even guiltier.

---

Jane had been checked over by medics before heading to Maura's. She knew Angela was out, and she hoped no one had told Maura what had happened. Casey was gone again, and all Jane had to show for it was an email saying it wasn't going to work out.

It hadn't mentioned Maura.

It hadn't had to.

Maura was at the counter when Jane came in. She turned and stormed towards Jane so angrily that Jane backed up into the door behind her, swallowing.

Maura audited Jane now that she had her trapped, her fingers frisking her like she was a perp, pressing against Jane's ribs to find extra give or bruising, looking for bandages under her shirt.

Jane submitted guiltily to the search, pulling off her jacket and holding out her arm. She'd had a tetanus shot too, which was tender when Maura touched her ass. Barbed wire. She'd been shot at, but it was the barbed wire that got her.

Evidently satisfied Jane was relatively unmarred, some of Maura's ire dissipated. She held Jane's hand and stroked the line of the scar, then lifted her hand to Jane's stomach, where a bullet had gone through her. The other hand trailed up to Jane's throat, where a serial killer had cut her more than once.

Then Maura's lips were on hers, harder and angrier than they'd ever been. A fierce, scared kiss that wasn't the sort a friend would give a friend. Maura pulled away, her finger still on Jane's throat. She kissed the mark on Jane's throat too, the mark that matched hers. When she pulled away, Jane's fingers sought the matching mark, then she gently pressed her lips against the little scar Jane had left on Maura's life.

"Don't you know how much I-" Maura started. Jane pulled away, worried. Maura started to cry, and Jane held her. "Don't you know how much I worry about you?" Maura asked, and it hadn't been what Jane had been expecting to hear.

"I know," Jane reassured her. "I'm okay, I promise." She cradled the back of Maura's head, her other hand rubbing her back as Maura gripped her tightly, her tears wet against Jane's chest. "I came here so you could see for yourself. See? I'm okay."

"Next time you might not be," Maura said fiercely. "No going in without backup. You agreed."

"He wasn't a suspect."

Maura grunted with frustration. Jane ran her fingers through Maura's hair. It hurt when Maura was hurt. But it felt good to have Maura worry about her. It felt good to have that anger aimed at her, because it was easier than all the other things Maura aimed at her. The soft kisses and gentle words. The way she took care of Jane and her family. Maura was too soft and girly for her, and she wished she was softer and girlier for Maura in a way she'd never wanted to be for Casey. She wanted to be the sort of woman who could do Maura's makeup and kiss her in public. She wanted to be the sort of woman who didn't make Maura stay up late worrying about her.

"I never meant to scare you," Jane started. Maura sniffed and pulled away, wiping at her face, pulling away again when Jane reached for her cheeks.

"You have a partner for a reason. How can you expect Frost to watch your back when you take off on your own?"

"I'm sorry," Jane said gently. "He was at lunch, and I didn't think this guy was a threat."

"Can you at least let me know before you do something stupid like that, so I can tell you how stupid you're being?"

"I can try."

"Okay." Maura pouted once more, then gave Jane a weak smile. "Okay."

It was only then that Jane realised that Maura hadn't tasted of wine or beer. She'd been sober. Jane's stomach clenched painfully. It was too real. It wasn't something friends did. Friends didn't kiss - not like that - not sober. She headed for the fridge, grabbing a beer, hoping it would make her feel better. Hoping it would drown out the hope that Maura might actually mean it when she kissed her.

---

Maura smiled when Jane came in after parking the car, but Jane shook her head, serious and quiet. She approached Maura in the kitchen, seeing Maura's uncertainty as Jane advanced on her. Jane kept going until she had Maura pinned against the fridge, the sensor turning the light on, illuminating Maura with a tantalising glow.

Jane lowered her mouth, seeing how Maura's tilted up to hers, then skirted sideways, pressing her lips to the little freckles on the right side of Maura's throat that she'd always wanted to kiss, then around over those collarbones, to the scar she always felt guilty about when Maura didn't cover it in concealer. Maura started to ask a question, but Jane's mouth covered hers and swallowed it. Jane's mouth was usually closed when Maura kissed her; she opened herself up for Maura tonight, and Maura melted between Jane and the fridge. Jane drove on; Maura always had been too soft and girly for her. Jane was used to being forthright and direct, and her lips asked permission that Maura fervently granted, her mouth dropping open to welcome Jane, her hands pulling Jane closer, pressing her hips into Jane, a desperate little whimper escaping from her lungs into Jane's. Jane pulled away, worried she'd hurt her, then saw Maura's plump lips and mildly dilated pupils and flushed chest. She put a hand to Maura's forehead.

"Your temperature is raised," Jane said in wonder. Maura rolled her eyes.

"Did you think I was telling you the signs of female arousal so you'd know when men are attracted to you?" Maura scoffed, pulling Jane back to her, hand on the back of her neck. She matched Jane's energy with her own, hands scrambling at Jane's shirts, with her pants, giving up and threading through Jane's hair, grasping her scalp and making sure Jane didn't pull away.

The front door opened and closed, and Angela coughed as she placed something on the kitchen counter behind them. They pulled apart, flushed and trembling.

"I got takeaway, since you two prefer to eat out," Angela said, taking one bag and heading for the door with a smirk. Jane and Maura stared after her.

"Do you - do you think she knows what that means?" Jane asked finally. Maura shrugged, her attention back on Jane's lips - lips that weren't kissing hers. Lips that should be kissing hers.

Jane pulled away reluctantly.

"I got the rest of my life to kiss you, but that food will be cold by the time I'm done with you."

"How long are you expecting it to take?" Maura asked, following Jane to the food, hiking up her shirt at the back so she could palm her stomach from behind.

"Hmm?" Jane was distracted by dishing out the meals, but also by Maura's hand sliding slowly up her shirt. Maura could be asking how long Jane expected the rest of her life to take, which clearly neither of them knew, or she could be asking how long Jane expected it to take to thoroughly satisfy Maura, which she'd have to budget a few hours for - her lips were so kissable and addictive that she kind of wanted to just do that forever, aware as she was of the building tension as Maura's hand slid lower. Or she could be asking...

"How long until you think you'll be done with me?"

Maura's voice was coy, but Jane heard the question and turned, taking both hands so Maura had to listen to her.

"Just said. Rest of my life. Probably won't be long enough, but I'm never going to be done loving you."

Maura, stunned, freed one hand and pressed it over Jane's heart.

"I meant. You know. The, um. Are we going to?"

"Oh, the sex? When we'll be done having sex? Until neither of us can move anymore, I guess," Jane said casually, squeaking when Maura hauled her out of the kitchen, giving their deserted meal one last longing look before giving up and following Maura up the stairs.

---

Maura kisses Jane when she hasn't had a drink.

In, like, a gay way. She just looks up at Jane with shining eyes and plants one on her. Sometimes it's followed with an 'I love you', and sometimes it's preceded by it. Jane beats her to it more than half the time.

She wouldn't have it any other way.

[valleydean]

Chapter 5 [Read Here]

CHAMPION Part III of Heavyweight a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) read from the beginning | playlist | tip

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1933. Dean Winchester, the number one contender, trains to become the next Heavyweight Champion of the World, and this time he won't let anything get in his way. Title holder Castiel Novak has second thoughts about retiring, especially when someone from his past arrives in New York and asks for his help. Meanwhile, a new contender rises to fame and threatens to complicate both of Dean and Cas' ambitions - and their relationship.

CHAPTER PREVIEW:

Dr. Meganolopis’ voice came out staticky through the radio’s speaker: “I’m sorry, Doctor! I forgot being a head surgeon means you cut into whatever body you want, and take out whatever organ pleases you without any paperwork whatsoever!”

“Well, Doctor, I’m sorry you’re so forgetful,” came the reply of the titular character, Dr. Desire.

Castiel heard Dean’s breathless chuckle in response. From his place on the living room couch, he glanced down at the rug, where Dean was doing his pushups. The neck and armpits of Dean’s t-shirt were darkened with sweat. The shirt was riding up the small of his back, leaving a sliver of skin above the waistband of his gray sweatpants. He wasn’t wearing any socks or sneakers.

As far as training sessions went, this was certainly more casual than most. However, Dean seemed determined to get in what he could before Castiel left town next week. Evidently, that meant conditioning through Dean’s favorite radio show.

The rest of the house was quiet, with Eileen at an NWP meeting and Sam still at work despite the fact that the sun had set an hour ago. Maura was asleep in her wicker bassinet, as she had been since Dean stuck his finger into his whiskey glass and gave the baby a taste to “soothe” her. Sam hated when Dean did that, but Castiel wouldn’t breathe a word of it because it seemed to work every time.

“How much longer do I have to do this?” Dean asked, his voice strained from exertion.

Castiel took his eyes off the satisfying way Dean’s back muscles moved beneath his shirt with every pushup to glance at the clock on the mantel. It was almost half past, which meant the radio broadcast would be over soon. “Until the end of the show.”

To his credit, Dean didn’t complain. He did look up at Castiel with slyly twinkling eyes to say, “Could use a little more incentive.”

Castiel rolled his eyes for show, despite the fluttering wings in his chest. He kicked his legs off the couch and climbed down to the rug with Dean. He laid on his back, placing his head beneath Dean’s face. When Dean lowered himself down, Castiel caught his lips in a quick kiss before Dean pushed away again.

Dean laughed embarrassedly, his cheeks a little pinker than they had been a second ago. When they met in another kiss, Castiel couldn’t help the pocket of laughter in his throat from coming out.

“You’re so off the cob,” Dean teased.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at him. “It was your idea.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled, lowering himself back down again. That time, Castiel lifted both hands and ran his fingers through Dean’s hair. Dean laid down fully on his stomach and kissed back, parting his lips into it. One of his hands cradled the top of Castiel’s head and the other stroked Castiel’s cheek. He tipped his head slightly to get a better angle for the kiss.

Castiel let it consume his every thought. He forgot completely about the radio show. But, apparently, Dean was still listening because after a few minutes, he ripped his lips away from Castiel’s and said, “Hang on, hang on.”

Castiel frowned, annoyed.

On the radio, Nurse Piccolo was saying, “You had your chance and you blew it! I wish you hadn’t, but you did. Roger is my fiancé now, and that’s final!”

“It isn’t final until you tell me that you love him more than me,” Dr. Desire answered in his stern transatlantic accent. The torrid affair between the couple had been a central point of the story for at least a year now. “So, say it! You can’t, can you?”

The familiar outro music swelled. Then, the broadcaster said, “That concludes this week’s episode of Dr. Desire—”

Dean groaned petulantly. “Man! I hate it when they do that! Now we gotta wait a whole week to find out what she says!”

Castiel brushed his fingers through Dean’s hair, realizing that he wouldn’t find out for himself. Next week, he’d be gone. It was likely he’d miss every episode for a while. “You’ll have to tell me what happens.”

The sparkle in Dean’s eyes faded. “Or you could just not go.”

“It’s only four months,” Castiel reminded him. After Dean had come home high that night two weeks ago, Castiel had asked Michael and Gabriel to renegotiate the tour’s contract. Somehow, they’d reached an agreement of four months and seven cities, with an extra fight in Las Vegas later in the year. There would be a total payment of $500 grand, which was one hundred thousand less than what they would have gotten under the original terms—but Castiel was willing to sacrifice that amount of money to be home. Fortunately, his team seemed to agree.

It was for the best. Castiel didn’t want to be away from Dean for so long. Besides, four months of bouts seemed more manageable than a straight six.

“And you said you’d visit me in Kansas City,” Castiel said. “That’s only two months from when I embark.” It would probably feel like a lifetime. Castiel wished Dean could just come with him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean dismissed sullenly.

Castiel picked up Dean’s hand where it rested on his chest and thumbed gentle circles into his knuckles, not knowing what else to say.

“You gonna miss me?” Dean asked, tone light, but Castiel heard the vulnerability behind it.

“Of course.”

“Yeah? Which parts?”

Castiel shook his head, unamused. “Every part.”

“Welp,” Dean grunted, picking himself up by the arms so he could move to lie down half on top of Castiel. “That’s too bad, ‘cause I’m definitely gonna miss some parts of you more than others.”

Castiel raised a brow with interest. “Will you?”

Dean hummed. He stroked his hand down Castiel’s side, past his hip, to rest on his thigh. “Big time.”

[anthrofreshtodeath]

I think the OP just turned on the first two seasons of R&I and jotted down this list of prompts 😂

How about a little " hangouts that start to feel more and more like dates" please and thank you.

I do hope this won't be your last prompt challenge!

Sorry this is so late 🫠 but hey, I wrote something!

___

The first time they’d hung out, Jane had brought a giant bag of peanut m&ms and extra butter popcorn. Maura had called it a movie night, after all. It was early on in their friendship, and Jane had been excited when she trotted up to the front door with her snacks in one hand, and a six pack in the other. She’d hiked up her long leg to press the doorbell with her boot, and was in the middle of putting it down when Maura swung the door open.

“H-hi,” Jane said, cheeks ruddy from sheepishness as much as the crisp fall air. 

Maura had smiled, and then looked down. “Can I help you with something?”

Jane held the grocery bag with the food in it. “Thanks,” she said, “sometimes carrying stuff is still, uh, kinda hard.” She didn’t brandish her scars, but their pointed eye contact told her Maura had understood.

Maura then nodded to the beer. “I have a place in the refrigerator where you can put that,” she told Jane. “Come in.”

Jane had whistled. “Nice place you got here,” she commented as she looked up at the high vaulted ceilings and the gleaming marble countertops.

“I rent,” Maura confessed. “I just moved back to Boston… well, when we met, actually. And I am being judicious about where I would like to own. So most of the decor came with the house.”

“I woulda never guessed,” Jane said. She pointed to the fridge, stainless steel, wide, and clean. Maura affirmed. “No offense, but rich suits you.”

“None taken. I am rich,” said Maura, with palms against the fabric of the jeans on her hip. 

Jane would have spit beer out of her mouth if there’d been any. “And humble, too,” she chuckled. Both at Maura’s comment and at the fact that Maura could no longer resist the bag she brought in. Maura rummaged through it with equal parts fascination and disgust. “You good?”

Maura peered up. “Do you really eat all this during one film?”

Jane curled a brow. “No…” she elongated it. “I got it for us to share.”

“Oh!” said Maura, then her face fell. “Oh, that… that’s very sweet. I…”

“You don’t eat any of this junk, do you?” asked Jane kindly. Her eyes crinkled and her lips pursed like she was trying not to laugh.

“Not at all,” said Maura on a whoosh of relieved air. “The hydrogenated oils are-”

“Don’t.” Jane held up her hand, “ruin it for me. But, that’s good to know. What do you like to eat during… films?” she asked with no small amount of humor. But when Maura opened her mouth to answer, Jane stopped her. “No no. You know what? Don’t tell me. I’m your friend; lemme figure you out.”

Maura had blushed and said nothing. But she’d smiled and showed Jane to the living room where they’d be watching what she’d picked out.

___

Subsequent hangouts got easier. Like this one - a long week called for a late Friday night at home. Maura had purchased the townhouse on Pickney about half a year prior, and since Angela moved in not long after, it was the place Jane thought of when she conjured the word home in her mind. And, yes, it was movie night, but a newer venue also called for newer fare - namely, gourmet charcuterie from the deli a few blocks from Jane’s apartment, and a good wine from the Whole Foods in Beacon Hill. Not, y’know, a six hundred dollar bottle a-la Tommy’s FBI debacle the previous week, but something good. 

Something Jane knew Maura liked. 

Something she and Maura had drunk before. And so, balancing everything in one hand, Jane used her key to open the door, and when she heard the muffled voices of a conference call on the second floor - the governor did tend to call Maura late, much to Jane’s chagrin - she set the items on the counter and went to the cupboards to pull out the decanter. She’d peeled off all the horrid labels her mother placed under each shelf when Ian was here, and it’d felt like something she’d had to do.

Strip Maura of the stinging past, restore the present to as it was before him, so that they could move forward into the future. 

Put off by the taste of that experience, Jane pulled out the candles Maura reserved for those truly trying times: decadent spices and citrus that reminded Jane of herself. And she thought it sounded egotistical but she had enough comfort in Maura’s space to own that - she liked the house to smell like that because she belonged there, not because she wanted to mark her territory. Ian’s mountain of medical supplies had felt like the opposite. Felt like a threat. 

Tommy’s bottle of wine had felt more like fumbling in the dark. Like something he wanted and knew he couldn’t have, but had to take a shot at anyway. 

Jane’s bottle of wine, the one she poured into the decanter, and Jane’s candles, which were really Maura’s, the ones she lit to waft up to Maura, to ease her into relaxation on the way down from her call, felt like what a Friday night should be. 

Felt like a well-worn routine. 

To further the routine, she pulled a board out from a cabinet next to the oven, and arranged meats, cheeses, and dried fruits in the pattern Maura liked, the one that seemed most calming. Before Maura, Jane didn’t even know that meat could be arranged in a calming way. After Maura, Jane learned that most perceivable things could bring calm, or bring stress. She’d adapted well, considering. Went for easily identifiable, separate food groups. 

“You’re early,” Maura’s voice roused Jane from her contemplation. She was barefoot, and had changed into yoga pants and an oversized sweater, with her hair pinned up. “Oooh - figs.” She reached over as Jane worked, and their fingers brushed on her way to the fruit. “Thank god autumn is here.”

“Those are all you,” Jane teased, “I’m all about the prashut’ right here.” She lifted the paper thin meat to her mouth and dropped it in. “Things, uh, things go well on your call?” 

Maura shrugged. “The governor is an obstinate man,” she began, “but I know how to bring him down. And explain artfully that Popov is not really my problem, but his.”

“That guy is everybody’s problem,” Jane commented when she pulled a beer from the new, glass-door fridge. “If you need me to forcefully suggest retirement to him, just let me know.”

Maura laughed, bubbly and bright. When Jane returned, Maura placed a hand on her shoulder. “I trust he’d take the hint,” she said.

“I’m good at givin’ hints,” Jane joked. She caught the blush with which Maura stared down again at the spread, and it confused her. She caught the wistful glance toward the wine, aerating in the fanciful glass Jane’d poured it into, and maybe Maura was just hungry. Just tired after a long day and needing a drink to take the edge off. 

“Hmm,” was all that Maura offered in response, like an agreement but about something else.

The something else itched at Jane. “I’ll take this over to the couch,” she said, moving slow, balancing the board in her left hand and nodding toward the living area.

“I’ll bring the wine and start a fire,” said Maura. When she looked up, she smiled softly at Jane, as she often did.

This time, Jane shuddered just before she headed toward the coffee table. 

___

“I heard,” Maura breathed out when she answered the door. 

Jane stood there, still dressed for the work day, just like Maura. This was what hangouts between them sometimes devolved into now - Jane felt worn out, and felt like she looked it, too. Maura looked just as perfect as when she’d started the day, when Jane had waltzed into the foyer a much happier woman in search of her morning coffee. 

Maura had handed it to her, like Maura handed her a beer now. The clock on the microwave read 11:12 PM and she had work the next morning, but Jane wanted to get drunk. She scrunched her face in displeasure, crossed her eyes to be silly and to note her frustration. “Honestly surprised it took this long for Tommy to knock someone up,” she said. When she walked in, Maura hovered close behind. Jane felt Maura-ness all along her back. 

Maura caught Jane’s hand just as Jane went to pop the top of her beer off on the granite. “Don’t ruin my counters,” Maura warned. She took the beer back, twisted the cap, and waited. 

Jane knew what she waited for, too, so she turned around with haste, between Maura’s front and the lip of the countertop. “It’ll give ‘em character,” Jane teased.

Maura rolled her eyes. “And you don’t know that Tommy… knocked someone up,” she continued, the colloquialism familiar to her brain but foreign on her tongue. “It’s just a possibility.”

“I think it’s more likely than my pop doin’ it, at his age,” Jane grumbled. She lifted the bottle to her lips and let the Blue Moon rush down. Cold, bubbly, tangy. Perfect. 

“Well, I know nothing about your father’s sexual health, but given that we can assume he slept with Lydia multiple-”

Jane’s hand flew to Maura’s soft, soft lips. Had they always been this soft? It made Jane’s fingers jittery with the need to move, to touch. She pulled her hand down when Maura stopped talking. “Please, please don’t. Don’t go there.”

Maura put up her hands in surrender. “I ordered a pizza,” she offered a branch of reconciliation. 

Jane sighed. Pizza? Beer? The night, all because of Maura, seemed to be turning around. “Sounds perfect. You know, why can’t Tommy find something like-”

Uh oh. 

This time she stopped herself, not Maura. Something like this? Something easy, something heady, something in a nice home with a beautiful woman who… Jane needed to run. She’d already said too much. But, Jane was trapped.

“Like this,” Maura chanced. She moved closer. Jane’s anxiety wafted toward Maura on a noxious wave of fear and need, but, Jane watched Maura persist. She watched conviction literally light up Maura’s eyes. Increased moisture catching the light over the kitchen island, Maura would have said, but still. Maura unclasped her own hands and opened her arms, not wide out at her sides like a barrier, but palms out, close to her sides like an invitation. “Like you. And me.”

Jane nodded, and then her face crumpled. What in the hell, besides this very reason, was she doing at her friend’s house at 11 at night, drinking beer and sulking because her brother just made all of their lives so much more complicated? Didn’t women call their girlfriends to vent all about life problems as they had a nice night in at their own places, watching shitty reality tv and drinking? Didn’t they send a text saying something along the lines of “OMG my brother’s an asshole and I’m struggling and really need to talk to you about it over coffee tomorrow?” 

They certainly didn’t show up at their friend’s place close to midnight to stand in front of them, soul bare, and blurt out… feelings.

But Maura didn’t really seem interested in what women usually do with their friends either. She knew what they did. So, Jane slumped forward, into the invitation, and Maura caught her.

“I don’t think many people get to find something like this,” Maura began, wrapping her arms around Jane’s tired shoulders and pulling her even closer when Jane sighed. “Do you?”

Jane still held her beer in one hand between them, with the other clutching at the fabric of Maura’s dress between her shoulder blades. “Nah,” she answered. “I guess not.”

[mauricemetsfan]

maura remind me to

Sandy Cheeks fron spongebob idk for why

please dont talk about her