argyle_s: (Default)
Title: The Diary of Jane
Author: Argyle_S
Pairing: Jane/Maura
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating: NC-17
Length: About 27,000 Words
Genre: Angst, Drama, Romance.
Warnings: Explicit sex. Pregnant Sex. BDSM. Branding. Mentions of sexual assault.
Summary: Three weeks after the incident with Dennis, Maura has to fly to D.C. for the weekend to consult on a case, but she leaves something behind for Jane. Her journal, which contains a series of letters she's written to Jane over the months since the two settled their argument over Doyle's shooting. Letters she's been too afraid to show Jane.



A/N: Explicit content




Maura

Our first time wasn't slow or tender. There was too much tension, desire and longing built up between us. Years of wanting all boiled down to one moment of suddenly having. I thought it would be frantic and hungry, but it wasn't that, either. It lay somewhere in the middle, need mixed with the uncertainty of making love to a woman for the first time.

Jane kicked the door shut as she carried me through it and dropped me on the bed. She didn't wait, didn't give me time to undress. She just reached down, grabbed the sides of my blouse, and jerked them in opposite directions. The sounds of threads popping and buttons bouncing off the wall echoed through the room.

She climbed up on the bed, straddling me as she kissed me. I rocked my hips, grinding up against her, making her moan. She pulled at my ruined blouse, tugging it up until I lifted my arms so she could pull it the rest of the way off, then she slid a hand under me, and after a moment of fumbling, she worked my bra open and pulled that off too.

I reached up for her, but she caught my arms by the wrist and pushed them back down against the mattress, shaking her head.

“Let me,” she said.

I wanted desperately to touch her, to feel her, but I nodded, letting her set the course. She reached down and pulled my skirt up around my waist, and I gasped as her left hand slid between my legs, rubbing me through the fabric of my panties. She slid her fingers up, slipping them under the waist band, and I moaned as I felt them sliding through hair and slipping between labia.

I grabbed the sheets, twisting the fabric in my hands and closed my eyes, not quite believing it was really happening. Jane was there, above me, touching me, making love to me.

I moaned, my head rolling back as she found my entrance. Her fingers slid inside me easily. I was already wet, needy, desperate for her touch. I shuddered as her mouth closed over a nipple and her fingers started moving. She curled them up towards the front wall of my vagina, searching for my g-spot, and finding it with long, slender fingers.

“Yes,” I hissed. “God, there. Jane.” The words spilled out before my throat closed up. I wanted to tell her, to warn her, but I couldn't. I could barely breath. I was too far gone, and I wasn't going to last. Not if she kept up what she was doing. I tried to stop it, to hold back, to fight it and make it last, but her thumb found my clit and I broke, throwing my head back and screaming as I came.

When it was over, she moved up and kissed me, her tongue sliding into my open mouth and caressing mine as her fingers rested inside me. The kiss was slow, teasing. I tried to meet her tongue with my own, but she drew back into her own mouth, and when I followed, she wrapped her lips around my tongue and sucked on it.

I whimpered, and my grip on the sheets tightened. Her fingers were moving again and it was heaven, having Jane inside me. She made it last longer, keeping her fingers straight at first, so they didn't hit my g-spot, running her thumb along the wet flesh of my vulva without touching my clit. I was going mad, loving it and wondering how someone who'd never been with a woman could be so good at it.

“Please,” I begged, breaking the kiss when I couldn't take it anymore, when I thought I would die if I didn't come.

Jane curled her fingers up, finding my g-spot again, and her thumb found its way back to my clit. Her strokes became faster, more urgent.

“Look at me,” she whispered. I turned my head and looked into her eyes. They were shining, bright with emotion. “I love you,” she whispered. It wasn't her touch that sent me over the edge the second time. It was her words.

I whimpered when she pulled her fingers out of me, but it was worth it when she wrapped both strong arms around me, holding me tightly in the afterglow.

I felt like I could just stay there forever, but I also wanted more. I wanted to touch her, to feel her and to give to her like she'd given to me. I leaned up, kissing her just in front of her left ear and whispered, “Take your clothes off.”

She pulled back just enough to kiss me, then she let go of me and slid off the bed. I watched her as she started to undress. It wasn't like I expected. I was so used to brave, bold Jane that seeing her blush, seeing the shy way she slipped her tank top and bra off made me fall in love with her all over again. I kept my eyes on her, watching as every inch of skin was exposed, and reached down to pull off my skirt and panties as she was slipping out of her jeans.

When she was naked, she stood there next to the bed, letting me look at her. My eyes roamed over her and I was struck by how beautiful she was. I've seen her in various states of undress before. I'd even seen her naked once or twice, but I'd never really been free to just look at her. I wanted to reach out, touch ever scar, trace them with fingers and tongue. I already knew the story behind each one. The ones on her hands and the gunshot were the most prominent, but there was the thin line on her hip where a gang banger had swiped at her with a switch blade. The raised ridge on her thigh where a bouncer threw her through a plate glass window. A glossy patch where she'd reached into a burning car to pull a five year old out of the wreckage. She tried so hard to hide them, but I loved them. Badges of courage, reminders of the incredible woman she was, and of how lucky I was to still have her in my life.

I reached out, taking her hand and pulled her towards me. She climbed up onto the bed and lay down next to me. She reached for me, but I rolled on top of her, straddling her and kissing her as my hand slid up to cup her breasts. I squeezed them, kneading them gently. She moaned when I lightly pinched a nipple, so I did it again, harder, and got a louder moan as she arched up into my touch. I filed that away for future reference as I let my hands roam, cataloging every response, learning her body.

My lips slipped down, leaving a trail of kisses from her mouth, down her neck to her chest. I didn't stop there. I wanted her, and I knew how I wanted her. I wanted to be wrapped in her, to drown in her touch, taste and smell. My lips brushed through damp black curls as I pushed her legs open and settled between them. I looked down, noting dampness, the bright red flush of sexual excitement along the edges of her labia, and I leaned closer, running my tongue along them, moaning at my first taste of her.

Jane hissed, arching her back and rolling her hips towards me. I slipped my left arm around her right thigh, circling it from underneath and resting my hand on top of the hair covering her mons. I pulled her towards me as I parted her with my tongue, letting it slip between her folds and caress the soft, wet flesh inside.

Her flavor was strong, tart and heady. She smelled like warmth and spice and summer time in the country. She felt soft and strong, like silk stretched over iron. Jane, my Jane. She was everything I'd imagined and more, and I couldn't wait, not anymore.

Instead of teasing her like I'd planned, I slipped a pair of fingers on my right hand inside her. She was warm, wet and inviting. I slid my left hand down, still cupping her mons with my palm, but finding her clit with my fingers and starting to rub gently as I curled the fingers inside her up to find the rough patch on her front wall that marked her g-spot. I let my tongue wander, tracing patterns on the skin inside her vulva.

She gasped and panted, her back arching and her hands twisting the sheets as she writhed under my touch.

“Fuck, Maura. Fuck.” The words were loud, desperate. I picked up my pace, pumping my fingers into her faster matching the rocking of her hips. She reached down, sliding her fingers into my hair. I looked up, meeting her eyes, and watched as the glazed over. She moaned, bit her lower lip, and then I felt it. The slight tensing of the muscles that told me how close she was. I moved my mouth up, letting my tongue replace my fingers on her clit, wrapping my lips around it and sucking gently.

My Jane shattered, her whole body bucking as she screamed. Pain burned in my scalp as she pulled my hair, and I loved it, loved that I'd done this to her. I didn't stop. I eased up, slowed my thrusts and licks for a few moments, letting her recover, letting the painful sensitivity just start to fade, before I picked up again.

“Maura,” she cried, desperately, but it was to late for any more words. She was already coming again before she finished saying it.

The second time, I let her come down completely. She whimpered slightly as I slid my fingers out of her, and closed her legs as I crawled up the bed to settle down next to her, my weight half on top of her, and kissed her. I moaned and wrapped her arms around me, holding me close. I settled in, warm and happy in her arms.




Jane

I smiled down at Maura as she slowly opened her eyes. She'd slept for almost an hour after we finished making love, and I'd just held her and watched, the whole time. She was amazing and beautiful, and for some reason I'd never understand, she'd fallen in love with me.

I used to think God hated me. That I'd done something to piss Him off and He'd just never quite managed to forgive me. But I had to be wrong. I had to be, because if He let me have this, if He'd given me this, then of all the people, ever, I had to be His favorite, because who else would He give something so precious too.

I leaned down and kissed her, making her moan softly. She slipped a thigh between my legs and pressed against me, and for a minute, I considered just taking her again, making love to her all night and all through the next day. Much as I wanted to, I knew I had to resist the temptation. I'd enjoyed it, but I hadn't really planned on falling into bed with her the moment she got home, and I knew there were things we needed to talk about, so I broke the kiss and pulled back.

“We need to talk,” I said. I saw worry appear on her face immediately, and I hugged her tightly. “Hey, nothing bad. I promise.” I grinned. “Unless being stuck with me for the rest of your life is bad, in which case, I've got some really awful news for you.”

She laughed, and I could see the relief written in her face. “What is it?”

I gave a small shrug. “Practical stuff.”

She grinned. “I'm the practical one.”

I laughed. “Usually, yeah. But I've gotta be practical for two now.”

I could see the gears turning behind those bright hazel eyes, and some of the worry was back, but she nodded. “Okay.”

I reached up, stroking her hair. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I think we've made reasonable progress establishing that, but I'm afraid I'm going to insist on continued study. Rigorous, continued study.”

I laughed at the flirty tone and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I just want to make sure you meant what you said, Maura. You, me, Tony, a life together. A future.”

She nodded. “Yes. Every word of it, Jane. I love you.”

I sighed, wishing this could wait. Wishing for once, we could be normal. But it couldn't. I loved Maura, but that didn't absolve me of my other responsibilities. “We're going to need to work out living arrangements. Get amended custody documents. Decide if you want a durable power of attorney, or if you want to do a second parent adoption. I know it's not the most romantic conversation for our first night together, but-”

She kissed me, and for a moment, I completely forgot what I was talking about, but after she broke off the kiss, I looked up and saw tears in her eyes. “You mean it?” she asked. “You really want everything? You don't need to wait, or take your time?”

I shook my head. “No. Yes. No. Damn it! Yes I mean it. Yes I want everything. No, I don't need time. God, it's crazy, I don't want to wait. I just want to be with you for as long as you'll have me.”

She kissed me again, but before I could really get into it, she rolled off me and got out of bed. I looked over to see her kneeling in front of the nightstand. I heard the scrape of wood on wood as she opened the bottom drawer, and rattling as she looked for something.

“There,” she said. Shouted, more like. She slammed the drawer closed, and crawled back into bed, holding something in her right hand.

“What have you got?”

She lay down next too me and reached up, a little hesitantly, and set something on my chest. She held her hand on it for a few seconds, before finally taking a breath and lifting her hand away.

It was a ring box.

“Maura?” I asked.

“Open it.”

I reached for it, my hands trembling. I picked it up, and I almost couldn't do it. I couldn't believe this was happening. I opened it. Inside there was a silver band shaped like hands, holding a heart between them, with a crown on the heart.

“It's not real silver,” she said. “In your line of work, that would be far too soft a metal, so I chose sterling plated tungsten carbide. It's a little heavy, but it's nearly indestructible. The design is a classic Claddagh ring, a traditional Irish design which can be used to symbolize friendship, the desire for love, engagement or marriage depending on where and how it's worn. The design doesn't normally include a gemstone, and I know how you hate anything that might be considered frilly, so I thought-”

“Maura,” I said, cutting her off.

“Yes?”

“Are you asking me to marry you in Google speak?”

She stared at me for a moment, and I could see the blush rising in her cheeks, but she nodded. “Yes, I think I am.”

I rolled towards her, grabbed her and kissed her.

“Is that a yes?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yes. That's definitely a yes.”

She reached out and took the ring box from me, pulling the ring out and setting the box on the nightstand, then taking my left hand in hers. I watched, breathless, as she slipped the ring on my finger, the little heart pointing towards my finger tip.

“When we get married, you turn the ring around so the heart on the ring always points towards your own heart.” She looked up into my eyes. “It will take a couple of months to book Fenway park.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yes, but...”

“What?”

“You are not wearing a Red Sox Jersey.”

“Suit?”

“Tuxedo. Armani.”

I smiled at her and nodded. “I can live with that.”

She leaned forward and kissed me again. “I love you, Jane.”

“I love you too, Maura.”

“Good. Then you can tell Angela you're not wearing a dress.”

I stared at her for a minute, then smiled. “We could always elope.”

“Jane,” she said, giving me that look she always gave me when she'd decided I was going to do something I didn't want to do. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

“What's the hard way?”

“I'll give your mother my Centurion Card and a list of bridal boutiques that carry dresses I'd find acceptable.”

“You are so lucky I love you.”

She smiled at me. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

- The End -





A/N: Okay, yes, the ending was ridiculously sappy, but then, so was the whole story. This is me not feeling even remotely guilty.



The Diary of Jane Chapter List
Chapter 01
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04
Chapter 05
Chapter 06
Chapter 07
Chapter 08
Chapter 09
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15

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