Silvana pt1

NOIR-fanfic. The world's most brutal princess had been left for dead, but she survived.
(Silvana/Chloe)

Read Silvana pt1

Disclaimer: All things Noir belong to Bee Train and probably others, perhaps even to Raimi/Tapert by now, but at any rate I’m just borrowing.

Spoiler warning for much of the show, but the ending in particular.





SILVANA pt 1
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson






There were likely many things that the daughter of the Corsican Bouquet family was and was apt in, various types of combat and assassination methods utilising a gun prominent among them, but one thing she was not so skilled in… the ways of the blade.

Silvana Greone supposed she should be grateful for that, given that it was only the other woman’s unfamiliarity with a knife that had ended up sparing her life. She was however of rather mixed feelings regarding her run-in with her childhood acquaintance, it was after all the first and only time Silvana, the vaunted Intoccabile, had ever been defeated.

More than merely defeated, of course. Her own blade, the very blade upon which she had ended both her father and beloved grandfather’s lives for the honour and glory of the Cosa Nostra, had been driven deep into her own chest. It was merely the other woman’s inexperience with stabbing that had prevented the blade from reaching Silvana’s heart.

She had been left for dead while the Bouquet girl and her young companion hastened on to the next hurdle in their death-riddled journey, left to bleed out on those cold ancient stone ruins alone. How ironic that while her killer had not taken the time to check whether Silvana was still alive, she had spared a moment to retrieve the tip of the dagger from her chest. A trophy from a defeated foe or a symbol for a fear conquered? Silvana did not know.

The blade, like her pride, was now broken anyway.

Silvana had been found in time, obviously, and rushed to a hospital. She would spend a long time recuperating at various such places, during which she officially handed over control of the Cosa Nostra to a man distantly related to herself. She offered him the traditional ritual, fully expecting him to take it and in a way she had even welcomed that end. In the end he did not take it. In the end, she was still Intoccabile, the untouchable one, in more ways than she had imagined.

He and others like him ruled the organisation in her name, while Silvana herself officially returned to a self-imposed exile in her beloved Sicily. If anyone thought such a thing would be a hardship they were sorely mistaken, for Silvana, while fully prepared to do her duty to the fullest and most brutal, longed for nothing more than that quiet, peaceful life she enjoyed in her Sicily.

But there was one thing she needed to do before putting the blood-soaked events that had dethroned the world’s most brutal princess behind her. One thing Silvana needed for her own and personal closure. With reverently bowed and respectful heads, the time and means to do so was extended to her.

And so it was that Silvana Greone, the feared Intoccabile of the Cosa Nostra, found herself in a deeply hidden valley between Spain and France, a small piece of land that time and the world had forgotten. The Soldats holy land.

It did not do to be discourteous, not there, not then, not with Soldats... not anymore. Silvana had dressed in a simple cloak, much like that of the nuns that occupied this ancient place, and arrived on foot for the last lengthy passage. She neither sought audience with Soldats’ powerful religious leader nor did she in any way approach or interfere with the activities there. Silvana merely sent a brief letter to the one named Althena to inform them that she was there and that all she wished was to watch from a distance as a conclusion came to the situation of those called Noir.

She expected no answer and received none. The fact that none of the heavily armed and fully combat prepared nuns attempted to kill her or drive her away, to say nothing of the Noir girls themselves, was blessing and approval enough.

Because of this Silvana watched from afar as the ever-changing three-way battle between the daughter of Corsica, her companion and a third girl Silvana herself did not know, raged back and forth as if they were all of them possessed. She felt approval when watching Mireille Bouquet during this battle, her erstwhile friend and one-time opponent no longer trembled in fear when faced with beings of such deadly presence and skill that the blonde should have been as a child before the reaper. There was a certain twisted satisfaction to be found in the fact that the woman who had, admittedly with help from her young lover, delivered Silvana’s own defeat perform well against such monsters. Perhaps in some way it appealed to the tattered remains of her self-esteem.

What was it that compelled Silvana, once the battle was ended and the newly decided couple made their way onwards towards their destiny, to approach the stone slab beside the ruins where the defeated girl had been laid to rest? She was unsure, although perhaps it had something to do with a wisp of memory of another ruin, another stabbed woman, and of bleeding out onto ancient stones alone.

Whatever the reason, she made her way down from her observation post as the sunset bled vibrantly across the landscape and the shadows grew long. The girl lying upon the weathered stone was a surprise once Silvana came close enough to clearly see her features. Young and slender, with skin as impossibly pale as Silvana’s own and a shock of remarkably deep burgundy hair, although the features or the still face were somewhat on the plain side there was something beautiful about this girl, something... fair.

The bloody cake fork lying next to the unmoving figure was also not what was expected, but with a sting from her own healing wound Silvana’s eyes were drawn to the blood that stained the front of simple white fabric. There was far less of it than there should be, and with a slight frown Silvana leaned over the prone figure, alert for any sign. Could it be? Could these two skilled assassins, one of them perhaps the most lethal being in the world right now, could they have made the same simple mistake... twice?

Judging by the tool and the blood, the wound was in the right place to kill but too shallow to meet its mark. The girl was not breathing, still Silvana sought for a pulse. It was hard to find, but finally there it was, slow and weak but still there.

If there was one thing Silvana had not been taught how to do, it was how to save a life. Still she struggled, lending the very breath from her own lungs until the girl, with a strained little gasp, drew breath on her own. She could not understand why it had become so important to save this one life, why it mattered so much to her, only that it did.

When narrow, slanted eyes fluttered open to reveal the blackest obsidian for just a moment, Silvana knew that she had succeeded. This girl, whoever she might be, would live. Vaguely aware of nuns moving in the distance, no doubt having witnessed that the girl was still alive and on their way to report this to Althena, Silvana gathered the long-limbed but surprisingly light form into her arms.

The sound of gunshots coming from the direction of the rather derelict-appearing building towards which the nuns of Soldats had been moving earlier had Silvana opting not to take the wounded girl there. Instead she carried her to a niche between stone and vegetation where they would not be easily seen yet Silvana had a clear view of the area.

She saw several nuns give their lives to Mireille Bouquet and her partner right there in the wine orchard, and as the two of them disappeared into the dark interior of the building Silvana could hear the sound of gunfire continue for some time before all was quiet. With a small nod to herself she approved. Good for you, daughter of Corsica, was her thought before simply ignoring the events inside the house completely.

Silvana had come there on foot for quite a distance, and while her car and her driver waited on the other side of that invisible but important border, she, out of respect once again, had not brought a phone by which to summon them. She had gotten there by her own strength and would leave the same way or not at all, or so had been her assumption, because such was the Soldats way. It was with a touch of contempt she had observed that some of the Soldats men had driven all the way to their sacred grounds, ignoring old traditions and taboos.

Very well. The situation was changed, and if she was to dedicate herself to rescue this stranger, Silvana would do so all the way. Half-measures were not appropriate for the famed Intoccabile, come what may.

What she needed to do was to acquire either a phone from the Soldats lackeys, or one of their cars. As the old was being burned down behind her with such reckless abandon it mattered little whether her servants crossed the boundary to get her or if she drove past it to meet them, either way she would get this girl to medical care as fast as she was at all able.

While a master of all bladed things, Silvana was still unarmed and held little illusions regarding her ability to take on a dozen well-armed and alert men empty-handed. A careful search yielded three narrow but utterly lethal blades hidden upon the girl which she tucked into her cloak, at least she would not be completely helpless.

She hid the girl as well as she could and, after long moments of observation until she decided whom among the black-suited men were the leaders of Soldats, eventually made her slow and careful approach.

Perhaps time had passed more quickly than Silvana had realized, or perhaps the two women that from that moment on would be known to the underworld as Noir had been more efficient in whatever trials they faced than she could have imagined, because as Silvana had completed her silent path through blackness and was about to make her presence known, the two women came limping out from the smouldering building.

They were both of them wounded, the daughter of Corsica limping as she struggled onward with her partner, the smaller woman soaked through with her own blood it seemed, leaning on her so heavily the former was all but keeping them both upright. And yet these were no defenceless or weakened creatures that stepped out into the night, oh no. Even as the blonde woman issued her warning of bleak death to those that would oppose them, Silvana saw the fire that burned in those eyes. Deeply moved she performed the ancient genuflection for the Maidens of Death and bowed her head in respect.

Pride, yes, pride was what she felt most of all, that the fair-haired child she had so adored during their brief and unfortunate acquaintance long ago had grown into this, this woman not only she but all the dark and bloodstained world would have to respect. Mireille Bouquet had never looked lovelier to Silvana.

The men of Soldats parted before Noir in silence, some out of fear and others out of respect, and the two women made their passage into the darkness without halting or sparing a single look back. It was as it should be, Silvana thought.

It was the tiniest of sounds that alerted her, and as Silvana tore her attention away from the retreating figures barely visible in the dark she found several of Soldats’ men in the process of aiming their guns at those two that they were all now honour bound to revere and serve.

The blades flew from her hand without conscious thought, each of them hitting with instant and deadly precision. A gun fired twice quite close by, and five bodies slid to the earth without protest. Noir neither stopped nor turned back.

If the one remaining leader of Soldats, now perhaps the very singular leader of all of Soldats, was at all surprised to find her there he was quick to mask his reaction. He knew her of course, as she him, and she silently approved of his quick disposing of his two fellow leaders for their treachery much as he, with a glance and an inclination of his head, approved of the intervention of her blades. They wasted no time on pleasantries.

Silvana was given one of the cars and drove off as the Soldats remained, aiding the fire and throwing their dead into it, and she only made one discreet stop before driving to the point where she could discard the vehicle in favour of her own. Hopefully the Soldats would not be aware that the pale and still unconscious girl was alive, for the girl’s sake as well as Noir.

She went to certain lengths to protect the girl’s identity, but as she was given treatment and care in Silvana’s own Sicily the odds were remote that she would be found, even if Soldats had reason to search for her. Careful probing of mutual contacts revealed in time that they in fact did not, and Chloe, for that was the girl’s name, was allowed to move as she pleased in Silvana’s simple cottage on the outskirts of her small village in the rural part of Sicily.

Days, weeks and even months passed, and to Silvana’s surprise her young visitor not only showed no signs of wanting to leave, but Silvana herself had no desire to see the lanky youth leave and her solitary days return. Chloe was nothing like Silvana could have expected.

There was no doubt that she was the same graceful and utterly lethal creature that Silvana had witnessed in the Noir battle, in fact there was little doubt in her mind that were it not for the tradition dictating that the Maidens of Death be lovers, Chloe would have been Noir. None could be more skilled, more capable, more lethal... but her love had been rejected.

Chloe also had another side to her, and it was this that continued to amaze Silvana. The girl was soft-spoken and shy, unassuming and possessing a strangely childlike innocence and devotion that made her very easy to love, even for someone like Silvana whose heart had frozen so many years ago. They shared a joy in the simple things in life, a love for the land and toil, and an appreciation for the rewards it brought. Most would reject Silvana’s simple and rustic lifestyle, but Chloe embraced it with familiarity and delight.

Solitude had never bothered Silvana, rather the reverse, outside the company of the village children any human contact was merely a burden, a duty to fulfil without protest or letting on but never willingly sought out. She always returned to her silent cottage with a quiet sense of relief, going about her simple life in peace. But this was no longer true. There was such joy to be found in Chloe’s presence, even in the small and silent moments. She could not quite grasp how it could be so.

Black Thread and Red Sheets

NOIR-fanfic. Mireille watches Kirika sleep.
(Mireille/Kirika)

Read Black Thread and Red Sheets

Disclaimer: All things Noir belong to Bee Train and probably others, perhaps even to Raimi/Tapert by now, but at any rate I’m borrowing the girls for a bit.




Black Thread and Red Sheets

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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson






I am watching her sleep. I don’t know why I do it and that tears me up, but still tonight like many nights before, I lay awake watching her sleep.

She looks so innocent while sleeping.

So pure, almost like a child in that regard. Like the child she was supposed to be, had things been different. So young, so untainted by darkness.

It is appealing. It is mesmerizing. It pulls me in.

It is also a lie, and I know this better than anyone.

That face, so angelically sweet, does hold purity while awake as well, a purity that defies all sanity, but not innocence. No, not that. Not in our world, not in our line of work.

But still, purity she has. I don’t know how she can or why, neither does she really, when she stands on a field of corpses all felled by her hand. The blood may stain her hands but somehow not her essence, and I can’t figure out how. She shrugs the lives taken off unconsciously, without a care other than to grieve for the guilt she does not feel – another oddity of hers – yet her eyes show me the bottomless pain and sorrow she carries.

She may look childlike in sleep, but she is anything but. I can’t afford to forget that.

All she has to tell her who she might be is a card filled with lies, and as right as the number that indicates age on it feels, it could be just another lie among many.

Some lies become truth though.

Such as her name. Although surely as false as the card upon which it is printed, she has made that name her own now. I can think of no other more fitting, not even the moniker that still chills me slightly to think of for all that I chose it to represent us both.

There is a touch of something beautiful in that name, although I no more than think it than I scoff at myself for this silly sentimentality. What am I now, a schoolgirl like she was supposed to be?

No, certainly not.

It would not do for me to become... attached. This dark and twisted path that we are both on, I know where it leads. Death will be the outcome. This is a given.

And yet... I watch her while she sleeps.

My partner. My companion. The one that will and has gone through the deepest pits of Hell for my sake. My protector, even, as well as my charge.

There is something beautiful about her face when sleeping like this, something a bit angelic. Objectively speaking, of course.

That and that strange kind of charisma she has, with her trusting eyes and tiny smiles and so quiet voice with those little grunts she makes... it is easy to see how someone could get obsessed with her.

Like that green-robed ghost of ours.

Obsessed. Completely head over heels, in the most annoying and pathetically obvious way. She really sets my teeth on edge.

Ignore me, will you? Ogle my partner with those dirty, hungry eyes will you? I’ll put a bullet in your head next time, consequences be damned.

But... I guess I can understand the appeal. The pull.

A little.

Because I’m watching her too, right now while she sleeps. And I am having all kinds of uncomfortable and nagging feelings that perhaps my eyes aren’t the purest either.

As I’ve told her before we are bound together with a thread stained deep black in colour. It is true, and it is a bond no-one can touch. It is true and I won’t deny it, but I can’t help but wonder... why did I use the symbol for lovers to describe us? I’m not sure and I’m even less sure why thinking of it makes me feel embarrassed.

She looks so young.

She looks so young but she is not, not really. And the bond between us may be black but it is true.

Yes... our thread is black in colour indeed.

But the sheets on our bed are red, and her skin looks so soft as she is bundled up in them.

My thoughts confuse me but the heat that accompanies them confuse me more. No longer knowing what I am doing I lean forward, lean in, lean over her.

Her eyes flutter and open.

She does not have that moment of disorientation, when sleep still clings to the mind, clouding it, in our profession it is a luxury we can’t afford. Her big dark brown eyes simply open to look at me, no alarm and no question. They are soft and filled with absolute trust.

Then another expression accompanies the trust. It is that expression.

That look.

That look she has sometimes when our eyes meet. That look she has only for me.

I know not what it means, and I can’t figure it out. I don’t know why it makes my breath hitch and my heart speed up for just a moment, or why sometimes there is a pressure over my chest when she looks at me like that.

All of that doesn’t matter.

What matters is that it is mine. That look is mine, and mine alone.

Possessiveness swells within me, strong and fierce. I want to sneer at that burgundy-haired interloper that can keep her flirty eyes to herself, for this is mine.

She is mine.

And I’m not sharing.

She says my name, once, in her quiet voice. Nothing else, but it is still a question. I come to myself enough to realize that I have my arms propped on either side of her head now, leaning in, leaning down, far closer than I should and for no reason I can really give.

It doesn’t matter.

She smiles at me, that tiny but sweet smile of hers, and suddenly there is acceptance. My heart nearly pounds out of my chest to see it.

I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, I don’t know anything at all, but when she shifts slightly to face me better and those small but oh so very lethal hands move to slide up my bare arms something in me snaps, and I can feel it go almost as if it was a physical thing.

Oh no, I’m leaning down that final little bit of space towards her, and I can’t be, but oh god I am, and she is letting me...

Oh.

Soft.

Her lips are so soft.

Softer than the red silk sheets on my bed, our bed, and their touch sweeter than anything I could have imagined. She moves with me and I should break away, back away, but I can’t, I want more. So much more.

She is warm, so warm, and it is as if I have been frozen forever and now try to burrow into her skin or at least as close as I possibly can. I taste her heartbeat with my lips while a tiny noise she makes tickle my ear with her breath, and my hands are everywhere.

There are reasons why I shouldn’t do this. I know there are, but I can’t think of a single one now. A last confused thought of black thread and red sheets cross my mind before being washed away by her embrace.

Her lips part for me and it feels like heaven to this tainted sinner. I lose myself in her and in reward feel more complete than I ever have. I can’t stop but she is just as eager, welcoming my touch.

The world outside melts away, leaving only us in the moonlight. Nothing else matters.

This is right. This is how it should be. And I am finally beginning to understand.

Tomorrow I will try to find the words to tell her, for tonight though... we are both occupied with other things.

I Know

Original. More like a snippet than anything else, written as a small writer's exercise to hopefully get my writing going again.

A small... conversation between two women.
Who? Or why? That's up to you.

(Feel free to share your thoughts on that, I'd find it interesting to hear. ;)

Read I KNOW

Disclaimer: Original snippet, made as a small writing exercise.




I Know

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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson






”You are crazy.”

I know.

”It is insane.”

I know.

”And I hurt you so much.”

Yeah. Yeah, you did.

“You will get hurt – no, more than that, you will get killed!”

Know that one too.

“You don’t even have a good reason why, do you?”

That depends.

“Have you gone suicidal, is that it?”

Not sure, though I’ve asked myself that too.

“You know this can only head towards complete disaster.”

Probably.

“It is utter lunacy.”

I know.

I know all that.

I love you anyway.

BAKED GOODS

RIZZOLI & ISLES-fanfic. Jane comes home from a trying day at work to find that the door to her apartment is unlocked. Why?
(Jane/Maura)

Read Baked Goods

Disclaimer: I actually have no idea who Rizzoli & Isles belongs to, just that it is not me but I am still quite grateful for the episodes I’ve seen of it so far.

This little piece of pointless splooorp came to be just because my beloved apparently has mastered the puppydog pout even over the Internet, and I am powerless to say no to her.
No season, no episode, just excessive use of the words “croissant” and “pastry”.





Baked Goods
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





For just a split second when Jane realized the front door to her apartment was unlocked despite her routine of checking and double checking that everything was locked up tight before leaving for work in the morning, adrenaline shot through her and her hand automatically strayed towards her gun. Before she touched her weapon though the door creaked open enough for a certain and very familiar scent to make its way to Jane, who slumped slightly in relief.

Relief quickly transformed into wry resignation and no small amount of irritation, not an uncommon combination where her mother was involved, in particular the times where her mother’s use of the spare key given her for ‘emergencies’ was involved.

Yes, Jane was a bit more skittish to such things than any normal daughter might be and she knew it, but one of these days her mother would have to accept that Jane was a detective with a very slippery murderer on a personal vendetta against her, and randomly popping in when the fancy struck her without telling Jane first was not a good idea on so many levels. Apparently though, that day was not today.

“Ma?” Both the weariness and the annoyance were quite audible in her voice, again not unusual when her mother was involved. “I’m home!” At least the mouth-watering scent that promised some of her mother’s delicious baked goods in Jane’s immediate future kept Jane from having any real desire to get into it with her mother that day, so the annoyance was fading some.

The delighted cry of “Jane!” that met her as she put her jacket away was not the one she had expected, however. Blinking in surprise Jane snapped around to face her kitchen just in time to catch sight of a beaming Maura Isles liberally dusted in flour.

Then she simply caught Maura, as the happy if unusually dishevelled woman threw herself in Jane’s arms. Rocking back ever so slightly on her heels both from the unexpected impact and from the surprise, Jane’s arms nevertheless settled around the smaller woman as if it was an automatic response.

“Oh Jane,” The sight of Maura being so happily excited had a way of doing funny things to Jane’s insides, such as making her completely forget that the other woman was at that very moment likely covering both Jane’s clothes and dark hair with white flour. “Your mother is teaching me how to bake your favourite croissants!”

A little distracted at first, because, well, Maura was very warm and holding her this close just felt so incredibly nice and what did some stray flour in her hair matter if Maura wanted to wrap her arms around her neck anyway, but eventually the words made it through to Jane’s awareness. A dark eyebrow hitched in surprise.

“My favourite croissants?” She looked towards the kitchen to find her mother smiling widely at her as she expertly switched baking sheets. “The croissants she claims are a secret family recipe, and that I apparently still haven’t earned the right to learn? Those croissants?”

“Oh Jane,” Her mother’s inflection being quite, quite different from Maura’s, and Jane wasn’t sure she’d like where it would go even though her mother sounded quite cheerful. “You and I both know that although I managed to teach how to cook well enough, you simply can’t bake. You have been a menace to my kitchen every time you’ve tried.”

“Besides,” The older woman continued before Jane had the chance to growl out a protest, that it was really just that one time, and was she going to hear about that for the rest of her life? “Maura is a part of the family.”

That statement, simple and genuine, from her mother and the reaction she knew, even without looking, that Maura had to it, would have been enough to make Jane forgive her mother even if she had set the entire building, Jane’s car and Jane’s hair on fire. She smiled affectionately at the older woman and, not for the first time, counted her blessings that she had such wonderful parents... even if her mother tended to drive her insane from time to time.

Angela sighed a little, sounding just a touch wistful. “It does me good to know that there is someone here to take care of you.”

Jane opened her mouth to protest the statement, just like she always did when the subject of needing someone to ‘take care’ of her came up, but for some reason this time she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Instead she felt slightly embarrassed and wasn’t entirely sure why.

Perhaps sensing that she had caught her daughter somewhat flatfooted the Rizzoli matriarch got a croissant from the rows that were put to cool and came bustling over, her wide smile still in place. “Here honey, try this; Maura made these herself.”

Between her mother’s smile and Maura’s expectant eyes Jane wasn’t about to protest, so she took the pastry and bit into it, preparing to cover up if it didn’t taste all that great.

She groaned out loud.

“Maura... seriously, you made this?” She groaned again and made short work of the remaining croissant. “It’s delicious!”

“Really?” Maura seemed so hopeful and so eager to please that Jane would probably have swallowed a rock and proclaimed it delicious just to make her happy, but fortunately no effort was needed.

“Oh yeah, really. I didn’t think anyone could top Ma’s croissants, but these are great!” Blinking a little sheepishly when she realized that she had just told her mother that her pastries weren’t as good as Maura’s, she tried a bit apologetically. “Sorry Ma, but it’s true.”

Angela just smiled serenely at them and waved a hand as if to say that it was fine. Something in her mother’s continued smiling regard had Jane realize that she was still standing just inside the door to her apartment with one arm wrapped around Maura and with Maura’s arms around her waist, and that she had been standing like this for a while now.

Flushing slightly she cleared her throat and, ever so gently, it didn’t do not to be gentle with Maura according to Jane, eased out of the loose embrace to move towards the kitchen. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m really grateful for this, but what brought this on?” She eyed the mess and wondered if Maura was the reason it was not nearly as bad as she would have expected. “Should I help clean up?”

Despite her offer Jane quickly found herself directed to a chair while the other two cleaned up. She wasn’t going to protest her good fortune this time, especially since she could surreptitiously steal another pastry or two while she waited. She wasn’t fooling anyone and she knew it, but the pleased smile on her mother’s face and the beamingly happy one on Maura’s as they pretended not to see that Jane was filching the croissants from Maura’s pile rather than her mother’s was more than worth a little bit of acting silly. She couldn’t keep from smiling either.

It really warmed Jane’s heart to watch how comfortable Maura had become around her mother, and as she watched the two most important women in her life bustle about her kitchen while chatting and taking turns to tell her how this day’s little adventure had come about, she indulged in a rare moment of just being happy and relaxed for once.

As it turned out Angela had stopped by the station after shopping, intending to have a quick chat with her daughter when she bumped into Maura instead. Maura, getting off work earlier than Jane for once, had offered to take Angela for coffee, and that had somehow transformed into Angela deciding on the impromptu baking lesson at Jane’s place. While eager to spend her precious time off baking with Jane’s mother in a way only Maura could be, she had still been reluctant to use Jane’s apartment without first asking for permission, but steamroller Angela quickly had things going according to her plans.

Jane was chuckling by the time the story and the cleaning wound down, and Angela shooed Maura off to the shower. She helped her mother get her things together – because as Angela pointed out, those were Frankie’s favourite croissants as well – while half-heartedly trying to convince her mother to stay for dinner. Angela declined as expected, citing the need to get home to cook for Jane’s father and brother, but was nonetheless pleased that Jane had offered.

Just before she closed the door behind herself Angela turned to Jane who had followed her to it, and asked in that oh so innocent way of hers that meant that it was in fact anything but. “Say, Jane, why doesn’t Maura have a spare key to your place?” She took a small step back. “You know, for emergencies?” Blithely ignoring that her own use of ‘emergencies’ was impressively wide and ruled by impulse, as well as her stunned offspring gawping at her, Angela shut the door and made a quick if slightly giggly dash down the hall.

Standing there, stunned and staring at the door while desperately trying to reboot her brain after her mother’s parting words, Jane was dimly aware of hearing Maura get out of the shower and into Jane’s bedroom.

It wasn’t a bad idea, Jane already had Maura listed on all sorts of emergency contact lists and such, so it seemed only natural. There certainly wasn’t anyone she’d trust as much as Maura, whether it came to how she’d use a spare key or anything else. It would be convenient too, if Maura came by while Jane was out walking Joe or something she wouldn’t have to wait for Jane in the hallway. And for heaven’s sake, she already had a drawer and a section of her closet dedicated to Maura’s clothing, for when she spent the night or just happened to need a change of clothes while at Jane’s place.

It was all very logical and reasonable, and Maura would undoubtedly agree.

So why did the very thought make Jane blush furiously?

THE RIZZOLI REVELATION pt2 END

RIZZOLI & ISLES-fanfic. Set during the end of episode six, season one, Jane was looking forward to a lazy day off. She hadn't counted on Maura and the rest of the Rizzoli family having their own ideas. (Jane Rizzoli/Maura Isles)
Part two of two.

Read THE RIZZOLI REVELATION pt2 END

Disclaimer found in part 1.





THE RIZZOLI REVELATION pt2 END
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





“Right!” Angela snapped into action, making both Jane and Maura jump. “Frankie Jr needs to get back to work now, and I need to go to the grocery store.” She urged her husband and son into motion, then stepped forward and hugged the surprised Maura. “It was lovely to see you Maura, as always. Jane really should bring you over for dinner sometime soon, maybe next weekend?” She beamed at her daughter and mouthed an exaggerated ‘CALL ME’ at her that neither of the women in the room missed. “Oh and Frankie, pick up the dog will you? Your father and I are dog-sitting today.”

With that Angela Rizzoli bustled all her family sans her daughter out the door, plus one small but happy canine, and closed it behind her. Silence reigned in her absence for a while.

“She stole my dog!” Jane blurted, snapping out of her shock.

“I’m sure she merely borrowed your dog, Jane.” Maura assured her helpfully. “You’ll get her back tomorrow.” She frowned a little at the bag in her hands. “I bought pastries for your parents.”

Idly remembering how Frost had used the word ‘endearing’ to describe Maura, Jane felt some of her mortification give way for her affection for the other woman. She smiled. “That just means there’s more for us. Why don’t you get a cup of coffee and start in on them and I’ll come join you as soon as I’ve taken a quick shower?”

Her cause aided by Maura’s empty stomach as well as her supreme sweet tooth, Jane quickly had the other woman suitably distracted to make a run for the bathroom. It took her a moment to get going because she was too charmed by the little smile on Maura’s lips when she admired the decorations on the small pastry before eating it, but after that she made quick work of her usual morning routines.

With images of Maura dancing on the inside of her eyelids and the various things her family had suggested about the two of them buzzing around in her thoughts, Jane stepped into the shower and, with some embarrassment, set it to cold.

“Cold water is invigorating once in a while.” She told herself. “That’s all.” As if to defy her the images of Maura only became clearer and more insistent, Maura smiling, Maura blushing, Maura in various states of undress, Maura’s cleavage from their undercover night... Jane repeating that little move the bartender had performed on her, only this time she was the one licking a path down Maura’s neck...

Jane smacked herself in the face and rubbed the shampoo into her hair a bit more forcefully, desperate to ignore the fact that her stomach was doing flip-flops at the thought of kissing Maura. Since when did she fantasise about pushing Maura up against the kitchen counter, or possibly lay her down on it, to kiss her until the sun went down anyway?

It was a rather guilty feeling and nervous Jane that sidled into the kitchen, only to find that after one look at Maura licking crumbs off her fingers all thoughts of food was forgotten, as was the ability to think altogether.

Now Maura Isles might not have been the most socially suave of people, but she was a certified genius, and with that came at least some observation skills. She noticed her friend’s wide-eyed stare at her lips, and after the brief initial surprise realization set in. Maura smiled.

Realizing what she had been doing and that the other woman had caught her doing it, Jane blushed badly and looked away. “Ah, uh, sorry Maura.”

“That’s alright, Jane. I’m flattered actually.”

“Its just, my family, they... they’ve been assuming things, a lot of things, about you and me.” Jane sheepishly tried to explain. “They’re making my head spin, really. Oh, and in case you didn’t know it...” She grinned briefly at Maura. “My entire family adores you. After a short bout of ‘oh my god, Jane is gay’ my mother was all but planning our wedding.”

Maura smiled, clearly happy to hear that she was well liked by the Rizzoli family, but there was also a touch of anxiousness in her expression, suggesting that she wasn’t sure where Jane was heading with the conversation. Jane wasn’t too sure herself, and felt plenty anxious too.

“Dad and Frankie were both kind of angry with me because they thought that I had put in an ad to meet other people while I was already involved with you. I tried to explain to them, which I think is about where you came in? That was what all that was about.”

“So...” The smile faded and Maura’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t mean it?”

The hurt that crept into Maura’s eyes hit Jane surprisingly hard, and although she had meant to say something else to try to laugh it all away, one look at Maura’s expression had her instinctively blurting out the truth. “No! No, I meant it! I mean I do.”

Confused with herself and what she really wanted to say or do Jane slumped down in her chair a bit and, without being entirely aware of it herself, pouted at Maura.

“I meant what I said too.” Maura’s voice was warm, and deep affection and perhaps a touch of adoration virtually shone from her. Jane blushed and fidgeted at the sight, unable to hold onto her unintentional pout when faced with that.

“My family has decided that I’m gay, and nothing I say will change their minds. Ironically though, before all of this I had never even thought about it.” She hesitated slightly. “Have you?”

“Have I considered that you might be interested in women romantically, that I might be interested in women romantically, or that I might be romantically interested in you specifically?” Maura asked for clarification but didn’t wait for the somewhat stunned Jane to answer. “Yes.”

“...yes?”

“Yes.” Maura confirmed quite calmly.

“Yes, what?” Although Jane didn’t notice it herself she was leaning forward over the table, almost visibly hanging on Maura’s answer.

“Yes, I have considered that I might be attracted to women before. I was in a relationship with an older girl for almost a year back in my student days. And yes, when we first met I briefly wondered if you might have been a lesbian.”

“You were in a relationship with a girl?” Jane goggled at the thought, although it also sent a curious trill down her spine. “When?”

“College.” Maura seemed a bit amused by Jane’s reaction. “It didn’t end badly, but it did end.”

“Why didn’t you say anything when we were going undercover?”

“It was a long time ago and had no real relevance to the case. And as the expression goes, I do not ‘kiss and tell’... not the ones that meant something, anyway, and not unless you specifically ask.”

“And...” Jane realized something was being omitted. “...what about the third option?”

“Have I ever considered that I might be interested in you romantically?” Maura hesitated and Jane stopped breathing. “Yes. Yes I have. I don’t anymore.”

Jane felt absolutely crushed, and it stunned her that she felt that strongly this fast. Hadn’t it all simply been something her family brought up just earlier today? In that case, why did it hurt to know that Maura had considered her, however briefly, and decided she wasn’t interested anymore? Since the other woman simply could not lie Jane could count on it being nothing but complete and utter truth, too.

“I stopped wondering because I found the answer.” Maura didn’t look like she was faring much better than Jane, uncomfortably squirming in her seat and avoiding meeting Jane’s eyes. “I am... interested in you, very much so.”

“Oh!” Just like that Jane’s spirit lifted and she felt cautiously hopeful. “You are? You never said anything.”

“I didn’t intend to tell you. It didn’t seem like something a good friend should be feeling.” Hands fluttered a bit aimlessly on the tabletop, until Jane with a fair deal of awkwardness reached out and put her own hand over Maura’s. Maura continued in a hushed voice. “I thought that if I dated a lot it would pass, that I might become interested in someone else instead... but it hasn’t worked so far.”

“I’m kind of glad it hasn’t worked.” Gently squeezing Maura’s hand Jane spoke a bit more shyly than she was entirely comfortable with. “Given the things you’ve heard me say today and the fact that you’ve already caught me ogling you I’m sure its no surprise, but... I, I think I might be, that I’m kind of... interested too.”

“It might have been in the back of my mind for a while, but I haven’t really thought about it until today... well, yesterday... no, okay, the undercover thing.” She got a little flustered admitting that out loud. “Anyway, what I meant was, if you’ve thought about it... would you want to give it a try? Dating me, I mean. You pretty much know my awful track record when it comes to romance, and when it comes to being involved with a woman I’ll probably be even more clueless, plus you know of my temper and my hang-ups. Would it be worth taking a chance on?”

“Yes.” The answer was immediate and instinctive, causing Maura to flush and look a bit dismayed with herself. Jane thought it was very flattering. “I mean, yes, if it was up to me I think it would be worth it. I would have liked to try.”

Jane intertwined their fingers. “Okay. Then, would you go out with me, Maura? Dinner and a movie, possibly with sinful amounts of chocolate?”

“I’d love to.” Maura said softly, a smile starting to chase away her uncertain expression from before. “Perhaps we can make that dinner and then a movie at my place? With sinful amounts of chocolate and ice-cream? I need to feed Bass.”

“But Jane? I have to ask you something...” Maura delicately cleared her throat and shifted a little in her seat. “Have you ever thought about... kissing me?”

“Actually I seem to be doing that a lot, today.” It was embarrassing to admit, but if Maura was that honest about everything Jane had to do her best to be as well. Her eyes tracked to Maura’s lips and stayed there until she managed to force herself to look away. “I’m doing it right now apparently.” She muttered, more to herself than anything meant to be heard by the other woman.

Maura nodded and withdrew her hands. “Would you like to try?” She asked mildly.

Jane stared at her.

“Before you commit to dating me, would you like to try kissing me to find out if you would be comfortable with that kind of... closeness between us at all?” Maura clarified, head tilted in contemplation. “You might discover that it is not something you would enjoy.”

After unsuccessfully working her suddenly quite dry mouth for a while Jane settled for a shaky nod, no longer sure at all what she was doing but momentarily overruled by long suppressed baser instincts that said that she was not about to refuse a kiss from Maura Isles for anything.

Nodding slightly herself, Maura got up and rounded the table. She hesitated only very briefly before sitting herself down straddling Jane’s lap, nearly causing the taller woman to choke in surprise.

She smiled at Jane and very lightly put a hand to her cheek. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” Dimly Jane marvelled at how calm and unconcerned Maura seemed in this situation, when Jane herself felt her heart pounding somewhere in the vicinity of her ears.

The first impression was of softness, such softness, as Maura very gently and carefully moved her lips against Jane’s. After a few passes she made to withdraw, but Jane surged forward, finally responding to the kiss and quite unwilling to let Maura go. Her hands came up to loosely encircle Maura’s waist.

With a small pleased sound Maura returned with a much firmer kiss, her hand reaching up to tangle in Jane’s hair while their lips moved together. Abandoning gentleness for passion Maura soon slid her tongue into Jane’s mouth, and with a moan the kiss ignited.

Maura found herself crushed against Jane’s body by a pair of long arms, one surprisingly strong hand on her rear making her twitch with every rhythmic squeeze. Jane had both of Maura’s arms wrapped firmly around her head and was so determined to devour the other woman that when Maura finally had to draw back slightly to gasp for air, Jane immediately locked onto her neck and unintentionally fulfilled her own fantasy from earlier that morning.

“Oh my God, Jane!” Maura gasped and bucked a little as Jane found the pulse point on her neck and fervently latched onto it.

Slowly brought out of her haze by the sound of her own name, Jane reluctantly released Maura’s neck and drew back, blinking rapidly and trying to come back to her senses. They stared at one another, still breathing rather heavily while the crushing hold eased into a warm embrace. Maura found rational thought first.

“Oh Jane...” She shook her head, smiling somewhat ruefully. “If you tell me that you didn’t enjoy that, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Jane chuckled and pulled Maura forward a little until their heads nestled together. “Well, there’s no chance of that now, is there?” She leaned into Maura’s hair and breathed deeply, deciding she loved how the other woman smelled. “And wasn’t it you who told me that I’m not your type?”

“Oh, you’re not my type.” Jane could feel the edges of Maura’s grin underneath her ear. “That doesn’t change how I feel though.”

“Will it make it any better if I promise not to wear shoes to bed?” Unable to resist Jane started playing with Maura’s hair. She grimaced a little when she recalled the other reason given why she was not Maura’s type. “The other thing I might need some help with, sometimes.”

She was self-aware enough to know that there were times that relaxation didn’t come to her easily, it was something she thought came with the job.

“That sounds just perfect to me.” Was the happy reply. “And if you give me a little time I’ll get those Celtics tickets you wanted.”

“Celtics?” Jane drew back to look at Maura, amazed. “You’d get tickets for... why?”

“Well you said you’d ‘flip’ for those.” Maura smiled contentedly. “I thought I’d... hedge my bets.”

“Sometimes you’re just too cute.” Jane mumbled to herself. “But you know what? We have a problem.”

“We do?” A touch of insecurity began creeping back into Maura’s expression, causing Jane to hurry to reassure her.

“Yep, we do. I’m starving, and I’m sure you’re no better off, so I should really take you out to dinner as promised.” She grinned at Maura. “But that means I have to let go of you first, and I’m not sure I can do that.”

To prove her point she squeezed the other woman a bit more, earning a startled but delighted little laugh for her efforts.

“Isn’t that just too bad?” Maura sounded anything but regretful. “Of course, if we could possibly force ourselves to move for a little while... we could swing by that little Italian restaurant on the way to my place, or maybe the Chinese... get dinner to go... save the going out part of dinner for next time, and just eat at my place.” She fluttered her lashes at Jane. “I have some very nice wine and some of your beer to go with it if you want.”

Amused and trying to figure out if the latest little manoeuvre was meant to be flirtatious or if Maura was joking with her, Jane smirked and pretended to think it over. “Is that so? Skipping the actual date part of the date for later? Hmm... I can’t decide. Got any more incentive?”

“A big, comfy couch...” Maura fiddled a little with Jane’s hair, making her shiver. “...an even bigger flat-screen TV and anything on it or in my DVD collection that you want to watch, and very little chance of any member of your family letting themselves in unannounced.”

“Wow...” Jane grinned. “You sure know how to woo a girl.”

“Speaking of which, since your parents won’t return your dog until tomorrow you don’t really need to come back here tonight. You could spend the night at my place if you want?”

Feeling a definite kick somewhere south at the probably rather innocent suggestion, Jane cleared her throat and replied with a voice that was just a touch deeper than usual. “A sleepover? Alright... so I should... pack a bag?”

“Pack a bag.” Maura nodded and beamed happily, easily hopping up from Jane’s lap to watch as Jane wobbled unsteadily to her feet before turning her attention to the kitchen table. “I’ll clean up here while you get your things together.”

Her head swimming a bit with everything that had happened Jane staggered into her bedroom, managed to locate her gym bag on automatic and tossed toiletries and random underwear into it, only remembering to add her sleepwear as an afterthought, before heading towards her closet for something to wear at work in the morning.

“Did I ever tell you that I own a Jacuzzi? It’s big enough for two.”

The loud bang that followed that statement had Maura come into view for a worried glance through the bedroom door. Jane smiled sheepishly and hid the fact that she had just torn the closet door half off its hinges by leaning up against it. “I, uh, don’t know where I’ve put my swimsuit?”

“Oh, that’s alright, you can borrow one of mine.” Relieved, the smiling Maura returned to whatever she was doing in Jane’s kitchen. “If you want one.”

Swallowing hard and no longer seeing her clothes, Jane just grabbed what she could and hoped that she at least got one of each needed item, because at this point she no longer cared what she’d look like at work tomorrow.

“Done!” She called out a little too loudly, leaning the broken door against its mate and promising herself that she’d fix that later, before hefting her bag and snagging Maura’s already neatly made up one on the way out.

“Me too.” Maura smiled and handed Jane her jacket. “Did you decide what you want? I could call in an order for us while you’re driving, that way we just need to pop in and pick it up.”

Putting her jacket on and gently ushering the other woman ahead of her out the door before locking it behind them, Jane smiled. Had she decided? Oh yeah.

“Yeah, I did. I know what I want.” She answered and waited the brief moment it took for Maura to look up at her quizzically. Dropping both bags to the floor she wrapped her arms around Maura, backed the startled woman up against the door and proceeded to kiss her deeply.

After a good long moment Jane stepped back, a smile on her face and feeling rather happy with the world for once, picked up the bags in one hand and offered the other to the dazed-looking Maura.

“Oh.” Maura sighed dreamily, taking Jane’s hand. Then, as her mind caught up with her, she beamed brightly. “Oh!”

She gave Jane a loving look that made her insides melt. “Me too.”

Unable to contain herself anymore Jane tugged on Maura’s hand and started off down the hallway, feeling like an overgrown teenager in love.

The thought came to her mind just as the two of them exited her building that her mother would never let her live this one down.

For once in her life Angela Rizzoli had played matchmaker on her daughter’s behalf... and succeeded.

THE RIZZOLI REVELATION pt1

RIZZOLI & ISLES-fanfic. Set during the end of episode six, season one, Jane was looking forward to a lazy day off. She hadn't counted on Maura and the rest of the Rizzoli family having their own ideas. (Jane Rizzoli/Maura Isles)
Part one of two.

Read THE RIZZOLI REVELATION pt1

Disclaimer: I actually have no idea who Rizzoli & Isles belongs to, just that it is not me but I am still quite grateful for the episodes I’ve seen of it so far.

This story is set at the end of episode 6, season one: I kissed a girl.





The Rizzoli Revelation
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





After several days of hard work, in her own personal opinion going above and beyond for the job, Jane Rizzoli had simply looked forward to an evening of mindlessly sitting on her couch, with her dog, leftover pizza and as many beers as she could down before falling asleep to something utterly mindless on TV. She knew it was not to be when she found Maura Isles waiting for her in the lobby, eyes wide and bright and her smile even brighter, a large bag in her hands.

She smiled wryly at her friend who bounced slightly in place at the sight of her, eager energy practically sloshing from her in waves. Jane already knew she’d cave, because for some reason it was just so hard for her to refuse when it came to Maura. Even on those rare occasions when they were truly fighting and the other woman had managed – always by accident and because Jane let her own insecurities have her misunderstand the literal minded and rather socially awkward woman – to get that famous Rizzoli temper flaring, Jane almost immediately wanted to cave. When it came to Maura Isles Jane was simply a pushover, and she truly hoped none of the guys realized it.

“I’m way too tired to go out tonight.” Was her greeting as Maura fell into step with her. “I was just going to veggie out in front of the TV with some beer and the last of the pizza in my fridge.”

Maura nodded happily, clearly not seeing any problem with that arrangement and in fact looking as if it was the best idea ever. Jane thought she was cute that way, always reacting as if the most mundane things Jane came up with were party material. “We could stop by and pick up a couple of pizzas on the way to your place,” Maura suggested as they made their way to Jane’s car. “and I brought Jorge’s chocolate, so we can have that for dessert.”

Jane made a weak attempt at an annoyed glare at Maura whom simply blinked a little in response, although in truth she wasn’t really angry at Maura for the Jorge fiasco. It was a sore spot, sure, and she was most definitely going to make the other woman help her get rid of this very unwanted suitor, but Jane couldn’t really blame anyone but herself. It was always the same old story, the good, or let’s face it, relatively normal guys fled her like the plague, while the weirdos flocked to her like flies. It was quite depressing really, no wonder she lived for her job.

Perhaps that was why it had turned out so strangely satisfying and flattering, the undercover job as a lesbian using an online dating service that she had just now finished. It had quite frankly shocked her how many women were interested in her, using no more than her photo and Maura’s surprisingly accurate – Jane was so ‘sporty’ and not ‘butch’, and she reminded herself that she was going to make the guys pay for that one later – profile of her. Attractive women at that, most of them, and of those that she had encountered on her little ‘speed date’ most had seemed fairly normal and at least in possession of half a brain, if a bit desperate perhaps. So the flirtatious bartender had turned out to be a murderer in the end, but for a while there Jane had felt attractive and desirable, and it had been both a heady and novel experience.

“I’ve got the day off tomorrow,” She gave it one last, albeit weak, attempt. “so I won’t be going in to work in the morning.”

“It’s my day off too.” Maura informed her as she fastened her seatbelt. “I don’t need to be anywhere early either.”

With that the case was closed, and Jane was actually quite happy about that. She enjoyed the other woman’s company and their little sleepovers, and Maura’s presence always chased Jane’s demons away, not that Jane had ever told her that. If she was honest with herself Jane knew that a few beers into the evening and she would have been on the phone with Maura anyway, because ever since the two of them had started socializing outside of work there had not been a single evening that they had not at least phoned each other. Jane had spent several evenings almost falling asleep to the warm sound of Maura’s voice over the phone, although she was careful not to think too much about why and if this was really normal behaviour.

Now instead she was treated to the quite remarkable pleasure of watching crap TV-shows with a too literal-minded genius whom, much like Jane herself, thought nothing of commenting out loud every little thing happening on the screen. It was hilarious fun, and Jane wondered idly if she dared to take Maura to the movies sometime, or if they’d get themselves thrown out.

Eventually they gave up on TV and moved over to the bed. Jane felt a bit ratty in her tank top and boxers compared to Maura’s perfect golden silk pyjamas, but shrugged it off as she watched with amusement how Maura carefully tucked Jane’s dog into the foot of the bed while asking it not to crawl up and kick her in her sleep. The dog, happy with the attention, wriggled her tail and snuggled in, and Maura, satisfied that she had gotten her message across, climbed up next to Jane and did the same.

They talked about silly things from their childhoods until they both drifted off to sleep. That the last thing that lingered in Jane’s mind was the image of Maura’s sweet smile and her up close and personal introduction to the other woman’s shockingly generous and rounded cleavage, well that was something that would not occur to her until quite some time into the next day.

The new day started with a phone ringing much too early for two sleepy women. Not awake enough to open her eyes Maura nonetheless reached out and blindly scrambled until she got hold of the phone.

“Mm, Maura here.” She husked with a very sleepy voice. “Who? Ah, Jorge. Yes, yes she is. Hold on.” Maura nudged the arms that were wrapped around her. “Jane, honey? It’s for you.”

Jane groaned, tightened her grip on the warm body in her arms and burrowed her face deeper into Maura’s neck before rumbling her reply. “Tell ‘em to go away. We’re sleeping.”

“Mmmm, that’s nice.” Maura hummed in somnolent pleasure. “Sorry, we’re sleeping.” She repeated obediently before hanging up, simply letting the phone slide out of her hand as she returned to deeper sleep.

Some time later their sleep was once again disturbed by the sound of the phone ringing. This time Jane, still plenty sleepy but also irritated, reached over Maura to grab the phone.

“What!” She barked into the receiver, causing Maura to grumble a little and turn around, tucking herself into Jane’s shoulder. “Frankie? Wha... wait, wait, what did you say? What do you...”

“Is something wrong?” Maura groaned a bit from the area just below Jane’s ear. Jane didn’t even think about how her instinctive response was to squeeze the other woman a little tighter to her.

“It’s Frankie.”

“Hi Frankie.” Maura said dutifully, sighing a little.

“Yes, that was Maura.” Jane growled at the phone. “Well she was sleeping! Now wait, back up... who saw what online?”

“No, but that’s... Frankie, no. I said no! Don’t be an ass.” Jane was getting even more agitated, and in response Maura started to gently rub soothing circles on her stomach. Strangely enough it seemed to help. “Look, the whole thing is job related and I’ll tell you about it when I see you, okay? Now get off the phone and let me wake up!”

As an afterthought, half screamed while she sat up, suddenly wide awake. “AND DON’T CALL MA!” The beeping of her phone told her she was too late, and with a mighty groan she threw herself back down. She was done for, she just knew it.

The slightly bleary but still very concerned eyes that met hers as the violently jostled Maura raised her head to face her made Jane smile a little despite everything. Just as Maura began to speak a loud rattle came from the apartment door, sending Jane from gosh-she’s-cute to WARNING!-INTRUDER! in one painfully thundering heartbeat.

By the time the loud clatter changed into the front door opening Jane had rolled out of bed, grabbed her gun and stalked forward, ready to take on whatever dared enter her apartment.

Except perhaps for her agitated mother who came loudly bustling in as if she didn’t even see the gun in her daughter’s hand, aimed quite clearly at Angela, with Jane’s father and brother shuffling in behind her. All the blood in Jane vacated to parts unknown as with a slightly trembling hand she lowered her gun.

“Jesus Christ, ma!” Jane gasped, shocked that she had drawn a gun on her mother. “Are you insane? You know you can’t just come barging in like that without warning, you damn well know that I’ll shoot whatever tries to force its way through my door without permission!” She sank down on the arm of her couch. “Shit.”

Angela Rizzoli halted in taking off her coat to frown a little deeper at her only daughter. “Jane, language!”

“Ma!” Hating the whine that came into her voice as she protested her mother’s admonishment and feeling no small bit surreal, Jane wondered if she just closed her eyes hard enough it would all have been a bad dream brought on by too much chocolate. “I mean it! I could have shot you!”

“Nonsense dear, would a burglar have used a key to get in? You would have realized it was me.” Angela dismissed her daughter’s concern to hang up her coat and urge her husband to do the same. Both of the Rizzoli men offered sheepishly apologetic looks in Jane’s direction, Frank Jr looking particularly guilty.

Jane sighed deeply. “It isn’t burglars I’m worried about, ma.”

To her surprise gentle hands wrapped her bathrobe over her shoulders and gingerly took her gun away. She blinked owlishly and felt something deep inside just subtly shift as she looked up at Maura, nary a wrinkle in her golden jammies and her bed-tousled hair no worse than what Jane’s hair looked like after a day at work, all calm and with a friendly smile towards Jane’s family.

“Good morning Angela, Frank.” Maura greeted them, giving no sign that she at all noticed the odd looks her best friend’s family was giving her. “Hello again, Frankie.” Carefully she put Jane’s gun on the coffee table, taking an extra moment to arrange it so that it was aimed well away from any of them and towards a wall while the Rizzoli family remained uncharacteristically quiet around her.

“I believe that having been personally made the target and at the mercy of a particularly vicious serial killer, it is only natural that even a detective of Jane’s calibre would react to a sudden and unannounced attempt to force entry into her home with fear and violence.” Maura proceeded to inform the room, missing the chagrined look followed by a shushing motion sent her way by Jane. “Especially when she’s not entirely awake.”

“Oh. Um, sorry sis.” Frankie muttered and scratched at the back of his neck. “I should’ve realized.”

Frank Sr nodded, his eyes troubled as they flitted over his daughter, while Angela looked utterly stricken. “Of course. I’m sorry sweetheart, your mother and I won’t do it again.”

“It’s alright dad.” Jane sighed and did her best to move the conversation away from what was for her quite a touchy subject. “It’s kind of my fault anyway, for letting ma keep a key to this place.” She pulled the robe closer around herself. “But what are you all doing here this early? Did you know it was my day off?”

“When your brother asked for you at work they said it was your day off, so he took an early lunch and called your father and me.” Angela got back into her stride, her voice taking on an increasingly noticeable mixture of reproach and indignation. “We rushed right over as soon as we heard.”

“Lunch?” A glance to the clock confirmed it, although it certainly would be an early one, lunch was definitely on the horizon. “Gosh Maura, we slept really late.”

“That’s alright, we stayed up really late too.” Maura patted her on the head as she passed her by on the way to the kitchen where she started the coffee machine. “I’ll just pop into the shower really quick, is that okay?”

For some reason that little pat on the head made Jane feel embarrassed, and the way her brother stared at her as if he knew something made it all the worse. To her own surprise Jane was actually blushing as Maura passed her by on the way back into the bedroom, but fortunately silence apparently meant approval as the other woman prepared for the shower, taking her spare clothes out of Jane’s closet where she had hung them the previous night.

“So it is true.” Frank Sr said slowly as Maura, ever the helpful one, laid out an outfit for Jane to wear as well before disappearing into the bathroom. His wife, having stared goggle-eyed at Maura until the door closed behind her, made several high-pitched squeaks at her daughter before finally managing a “Honey!” that was several octaves higher than it should.

Jane winced. She knew what this was about, and if she could only find him at some point where he was not at work or with their parents, she would beat the snot out of her brother for it.

“Is this why you’ve never dated any of those nice men I found for you? Is this why you insist on having such a dangerous job? Oh honey...” Angela sobbed a little, dabbing at her eyes.

“Look, ma, calm down. I don’t know what Frankie has told you and dad, but it is all just a misunderstanding...”

“Yeah, right.” Frankie snorted. “The female colleague of mine that told me about it this morning also showed me the website, sis. It has your picture on it and everything. Don’t see how we could misunderstand that.”

Just as Jane was about to explode at her brother, possibly also her mother for good measure, Frank Sr stepped in with a calm and disapproving hand on his son’s shoulder. “Quiet, son. Let your sister speak.”

Her anger deflating quite a bit at her father’s calm demeanour, Jane scratched a little at her head and sighed. “Look, ma, dad... I was undercover, alright? A member of that lesbian date site got murdered a couple of days ago, and because we realized that the victim and I look a lot alike, I had to put out an ad to try to find the killer.” She gave her brother an annoyed look. “And hey, guess what, I did. Case closed, although late last night so the fake profile hasn’t been shut down yet.”

“Quite simple really, and Frankie would have known about it if he’d spoken to Korsak or Frost before he decided to call in the cavalry.” Jane was feeling really hurt, and she didn’t even know why. “Or, you know, if he’d actually asked me and let me tell him before calling either of you!”

Silence followed her outburst for a long moment before Frank Sr cleared his throat. “So it was all just a disguise for work?” When Jane nodded he nodded as well, but the expression on his face did not exactly say that he was convinced. He looked past Jane’s shoulder and continued in a slow and thoughtful tone of voice. “Sweetheart, are you really sure about that?”

Following her father’s gaze Jane found Maura, freshly stepped out of the shower and so beautiful that it made something in Jane’s chest hurt, looking very awkward and uncomfortable with the tension in the air.

“Just a quick shower.” The smile on Maura’s lips was that small and fragile one that wasn’t really meant as a smile at all and that Jane rarely ever saw the other woman wear anymore. It made her want to hug Maura, which was another strange and awkward thought in itself. “I figured you might want me to take Jo Friday for her walk while you got dressed and talked to your parents, Jane?”

“That would be great, Maura. Thank you.” A bit uncomfortably aware of the warm and affectionate way her own voice sounded, Jane squirmed a bit but was unable to do anything to change the way she spoke to Maura. The dog, brought alive by the word ‘walk’, danced around Maura’s feet as she, with a wide and genuine smile this time, fetched the impossibly pink leash and headed for the door.

It was quiet for a moment as Jane watched the door even when Maura had already closed it behind her, the other Rizzoli family members exchanging glances and shifting uneasily in place.

“So... Maura is a very nice girl...” Angela started with for her an unusual amount of hesitation. “We all love her, you know we do.”

“I’m glad you do, ma, but Maura really doesn’t have anything to with all this. Or rather,” Jane amended “she does because she was undercover too and was the one that actually filled in my profile, but... you know what I mean.”

“So you’re admitting that there is an ‘all this’ then?” Jane’s mother wanted to know, taking on what Jane thought of as her I’ve-got-you-now face.

“I know you’re all determined to make it into something.” She regretted the sarcastic answer almost as soon as it left her lips. “Look, what is this really? An anti-lesbian intervention?”

“Of course not, sweetheart...” Frank Sr began but was immediately interrupted by his wife. “I just want to see you safe and happy, with someone that takes care of you! Is that so bad?”

“Ma, I’ve told you time and time again, I’m a cop. It is what I do and it is what I am. I’m not going to change and become a housewife or anything else, so please try to accept that. I also don’t need or want a guy to take care of me, and most of all I don’t want you, Frankie or anyone else to try to find me one.” She was tired of having the same argument with her mother, and definitely too tired to get angry. “I take care of myself, and if I end up with someone it will be because I love that person... not because I want someone to ‘take care of’ me.”

“Sis... you said ‘person’ and ‘someone’. Not ‘he’ or ‘him’...person. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“Dear God, you’re just not going to give up are you?” Jane groaned. “It was for going undercover! You can just go ask Korsak since you don’t believe me.”

“But you’ve got to admit it adds up. No husband, no kids...” Frankie started ticking things off his fingers but quickly stopped, letting the rest of his sentence peter out, as the evil glare his sister sent him reminded him that, yes, she could still easily kick his ass no matter how grown up he thought he was, and oh yeah, she would. Right now if he didn’t shut up.

“Honey, we’re not upset that you’re... gay...” The fact that Angela had some difficulty saying the word suggested something contrary to her words, but Jane chalked that up to needing to get used to the idea. “We’re upset that you didn’t come to us about it!”

“To have to find out through strangers...” Frankie nodded gravely, unable to resist and earning a swift kick to the shins from his sister.

“Sure, it will take some getting used to... but women like you can marry in this state, and when it comes to kids, well, your brother is a healthy young man...”

“Hey! Any kids of mine are going to be kids of mine, ma!”

“What he said!”

Angela paid no attention to the protests of her offspring, which she very rarely did anyway. “The point is that as long as you’re happy and safe, everything’s fine. But those lonely heart websites... they’re not safe! Are you really in such a desperate situation to find a date, dear? You know cousin Vinnie, his youngest daughter is like you. She is a nice and pretty girl, and I’m sure we could arrange a little get-together for the two of you.”

Jane was too busy trying to cough her tongue up from where she had swallowed it at the horrified realization that her mother wanted to set her up on a date with a woman to reply, which might have been just as well.

“What about Maura?” Jane’s father wondered. “She is a really nice and lovely girl.”

“Oh!” Angela’s face lit up with delighted realization. “And she’s a doctor too! Not to mention wealthy... I would never have to worry about you financially again!”

Ignoring his wife’s outburst Frank Sr continued with an approving hum. “She is a good one, and we all like her a lot. Maura would be welcome in our family.”

“And she already tends to take care of you, doesn’t she?” Angela continued undaunted by her husband’s interruption, or possibly simply unaware of it because she just didn’t listen to him. “I know she tries to make sure you eat well, and she can share your troubles from work... oh and she sure knows how to dress.” She made Jane jump as she suddenly clapped her hands with a little squeal. “She likes to shop! I could have a daughter-in-law to go shopping for clothes and shoes with! Oooh!”

Angela continued planning for all the things she could do with Maura once she had forced Jane to marry her, her family all taking a small step back from the older woman because of the nearly maniacal gleam her eyes had taken on.

Frankie cleared his throat and spoke over the small squeals and mutterings of his mother. “She’s stood by you through some pretty awful things already, sis. Clearly she cares about you. Do you really think its fair to her, what you’re doing?”

Her head spinning crazily from everything her various family members had just bombarded her with, Jane just couldn’t follow what he was saying and felt vaguely stupid for it. “Huh? What?”

“Your brother is talking about this looking to date other people business.” Her father said somewhat awkwardly but with a clear sense of disapproval. “I told him when he was a boy and I’m going to say the same to you now: that’s no way to treat a woman.”

Jane spluttered wordlessly, distantly wondering if her family had woken up today determined to kill her once and for all. “Hey wait just a minute here... I told you the dating ad was for work! Work! Besides, Maura was there undercover too!”

“The poor girl.” Angela sighed surprisingly mournfully. “Having to watch all that.”

“What about the poor me?” Jane protested. “I’m the one that was trying to get a date with a killer! Maura served drinks.” And looked gorgeous doing it, a treacherous part of her mind said, calling up the image of Maura’s cleavage once more. Jane mentally drop-kicked it into submission. “I ended up having to have a strange woman lick my...”

The horrified expressions that faced her, not to mention how her mother immediately clasped her hands over her son’s ears, had Jane all but whisper the last part of her ill-chosen sentence while gesturing weakly towards said part. “...neck.”

Feeling terribly embarrassed, tired and really just wanting to have a shower and get dressed, preferably before she started asking herself a bit too much why during all of this chaos she had yet to stand up and tell her family that she was not gay, Jane rubbed at her eyes.

“Look, I love you all, but this intervention thing is not necessary. The ad was just for work and will be gone in the morning, and if you really feel worried about it still, Frankie can have his friend keep an eye out for my name on those sites... I guarantee you it won’t appear on one again. I’m also not about to get married anytime soon, so you can all just relax.”

“For now I’d appreciate it if you’d leave though. I need a shower, to feed my dog and maybe go get something to eat myself, and I’m sure you all have places to be. Frankie needs to get back to work soon, anyway.”

“And what about Maura” Frankie mulishly wanted to know, not willing to leave without getting some kind of answer.

“It’s not what you think, Frankie. We’re friends, that’s all. And if we weren’t...” In trying to get him to leave Jane was a bit more plaintively honest than she had intended. “...do you really think that if I had a beautiful and wonderful woman like Maura interested in me, I’d ever have a reason to look anywhere else?”

The silence that followed pricked at the back of Jane’s neck. It seemed as if no one even breathed, until the scent of warm pastries reached Jane at about the same time as she heard the soft patter of her dog trotting across the floor.

Jane’s eyes snapped to the doorway where, much as she’d realized, Maura stood frozen, holding a paper bag aloft. The immediate thought that crossed her mind was that she had never seen Maura blush before.

Slowly, agonisingly slowly the shocked and frozen expression melted into a wide and brilliant smile, although the blush did not fade. Maura first looked down and then shyly at Jane. “Thank you.” She said softly. “And likewise.”

AQUALUNG OF LOVE pt3 END

Strike Witches-fanfic. Eila knew when she woke up that she would have a pretty bad day, and she wasn't proven wrong. Still, she didn't expect this.
Sequel to "Airplane of Lust".
(Eila/Sanya, mention of Minna/Barkhorn)
Final chapter.

Read AQUALUNG OF LOVE pt3 END

Disclaimer: See part 1.





AQUALUNG OF LOVE pt3 END
-------------------------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





“The camera is not a problem, I’ll ask Trude to take the pictures.” Hartmann informed them blithely before giving Lynette a speculative look. “As for the girlfriend, how about Lynette? Untie the hair and fluff it up, undo a couple of buttons, and have her draped on Eila. It should look convincing enough.”

When both women in question blushed hotly and waved their arms in a strongly emphasised and mortally embarrassed ‘no’, Hartmann harrumphed and scratched her chin, thinking. “How about Shirley then?” The grin this time was positively evil. “She won’t mind, and she’ll drape herself all over you as much as you need.”

The sound that the chair Sanya had been sitting on made as she stood in one swift but stiff motion was not loud, but still cut rather sharply through the ongoing conversation.

Everyone watched in silence as Sanya stood next to Eila with both arms wrapped about one of hers, glaring far from discreetly at a rather amused Hartmann. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to.

“I think that will be just perfect.” Hartmann sounded far more gentle than was her norm as she smiled at Sanya clinging to Eila’s arm. Lynette and Miyafuji both smiled and nodded approvingly as well. “Why don’t the two of you get started on replying to the letters and I’ll go ask Trude about the camera.”

With Lynette and Miyafuji’s help the reading and replying to the dreaded letters was less painful and awkward than Eila had expected, especially since either or both of the other girls managed to distract Sanya whenever her mood seemed to darken over a particular section of text or two. By the time Miyafuji and Lynette were called away by Major Sakamoto Eila was shocked to find that they had somehow picked up the Commander along the way, and the older redhead seemed to be an expert in the subject.

Hartmann had left but eventually returned with Barkhorn in tow, and the equipment was put in place and the background arranged. Eila and Sanya both suffered through some fluffing, primping and even some light makeup before the others deemed them fit to have their picture taken.

The actual posing was more of a problem. It was quickly decided, between the three people behind the camera and not Eila or Sanya themselves, that simply standing or sitting in front of the camera with smiles on their faces was not enough. Something more convincing was needed, and in fact the Commander seemed surprisingly keen on convincing Eila’s faraway admirers to stop writing so there was nothing to do but agree and pose to the best of her ability.

Eila would never object to anything that would allow her to hold Sanya in her arms no matter who was watching, and to look at her with obvious affection and adoration was not a difficult thing either. To do both of those things, especially while told to do so and while Sanya herself was told to do the same, well, that was more difficult, if for no other reason that Eila found it very hard to stop blushing. At least Sanya blushed as well.

As those behind the camera discussed things Sanya rested her head against Eila’s shoulder. Shifting a little to better accommodate her, Eila leaned her head against Sanya’s and spoke softly into her hair. “Are you tired?”

“Mm, just a little.” Eila couldn’t see the smile the younger girl wore when she tightened her arms around Sanya at that admission, but she could feel the movement when Sanya gave her shoulder a tiny kiss in gratitude. It nearly made her knees wobble.

“Thanks...” She said even more quietly after a little while. “...for doing this. I hope you’re not regretting volunteering to be my pretend girlfriend?”

Sanya drew back just far enough to pin Eila with a displeased and slightly hurt look. “Pretend?”

Eila’s heart did a rather painful somersault and lodged itself square in her throat. She was dimly grateful that she had Sanya in such a firm hold, because as dizzy as she suddenly felt she would have ended up falling on her face for sure otherwise.

“P-pretend?” She repeated weakly, voice squeaking embarrassingly on the single word. Engrossed in the moment and each other neither Eila nor Sanya noticed how their three onlookers had gone completely still and silent, with their commanding officer keeping a hand firmly clasped over the mouth of her youngest countryman. “D-did you, um, I mean...”

“You... don’t want to be my pretend girlfriend? Is that because you don’t want to pretend you like me? Or is it...” Eila trailed off, unsure of how to ask but desperate to know the answer.

“I am not your ‘pretend’.” Sanya quickly leaned back towards Eila’s shoulder, hiding her face, but not quite fast enough for Eila to miss the blush spreading on pale cheeks. “Don’t want to be ‘pretend’.”

Something exploded in Eila’s chest and she wasn’t even sure what. She was however quite sure there should be trumpets, or flags, or at least some confetti flying around now. She felt both giddy and shy, all at once. “Does that mean that it would be okay... if it wasn’t ‘pretend’?”

The silent nodding made Eila smile like no tomorrow.

“So... being my girlfriend would be okay, if it was for real?”

When the nodding continued Eila cleared her throat and in a rather bashful voice asked something she had wanted to for a long time now, longer even than she herself had realized. “Sanya, would you be my girl?”

“For real?” Came the timid question, somewhat at odds with the hand that came up to tug slightly at the tie Eila had been made to wear.

“For real.” Eila confirmed, and when Sanya looked up at her Eila allowed herself to look back without trying to hide all the boundless affection and adoration she had for the girl in her arms. The green eyes that looked back were swirling with emotions as well, pulling Eila in.

“Yes.” Sanya’s slowly widening smile was the sweetest Eila had ever seen. “My Eila.”

A pale hand came up to tenderly touch Eila’s face, and Eila held it there as she leaned forward until their foreheads touched.

The moment was broken by a sudden sharp noise, and Eila whipped around, chagrined and shocked that she had completely forgotten that she and Sanya were far from alone in the room.

Hartmann offered them a sheepish grin as she tried to catch the metal containers she had dropped and get to her feet, all at once. The other two were blushing slightly and smiling more apologetically, or in Barkhorn’s case more like wincing apologetically and coughing into her fist before pretending nothing was out of the ordinary, not even looking in Eila and Sanya’s direction.

“Sorry about that.” Hartmann didn’t sound too sorry as she dumped the dropped metal containers on a nearby table with a clatter. “But hey, so the two of you are going out now? That’s great!” The blonde ace grinned and gave Sanya an almost comically exaggerated thumbs-up, which had Eila’s brand new girlfriend smile bashfully and intertwine her fingers with Eila’s.

“So when will you have your first date?” Hartmann asked Sanya who in turn directed wide and wondering eyes towards Eila.

Eila started to panic slightly, she’d only had a girlfriend for maybe a minute and people were already expecting her to have at least one date planned for them? She hadn’t spared a single thought to anything of the sort, what they could do, where or when, during the whirlwind of events, and clearly that was careless of her. What was their schedule again?

Unexpectedly the Commander came to Eila’s rescue. “If the current schedule holds, the two of you have some time off the day after tomorrow.” There was something strange about the way she glanced at Barkhorn when she spoke, Eila thought, but after Major Sakamoto’s warning she wasn’t too keen on speculating what it might be. And either way, a helping hand was a helping hand. “You have enough time off to, say, take a short trip into town for, oh, an early matinee and dinner before curfew?”

Eager again Eila grinned widely and looked at Sanya who simply smiled and nodded in reply to the unasked question. “That sounds great! Thank you Commander.”

Hartmann leaned towards them and began suggesting a variety of things from transportation to suitable matinees and good restaurants to Sanya, but Eila found herself only half listening, distracted by the sight of her commanding officer not only gluing herself to Barkhorn’s back but quite conspicuously pushing her chest into the other woman as well.

When the redhead whispered something into Barkhorn’s ear the expression she wore could not quite be covered by merely ‘sultry’, and the terribly embarrassed Eila realized with a start that neither woman knew they were being watched. Of those in the room only Eila was turned towards the camera by now, behind which Barkhorn and the Commander were, well, Eila thought one could call it standing. At least on Barkhorn’s part.

She scratched her head and wondered if she should excuse herself and Sanya now and make a run for it, preferably before either Hartmann turned around or before the Commander realized Eila had been standing in front of them. She wasn’t too keen on finding out what either woman would do if embarrassed.

“Erm, well, I’m sure we got a few very good pictures out of that. I’ll let you know when they’ve been developed.” Barkhorn almost sounded her usual self to Eila. Almost. “I’ll just... finish up here, so why don’t you go...”

Clearly blanking out on what reason she should give to get the rest of them to leave herself and the Commander alone, Barkhorn turned towards her partner for help. It didn’t matter as Hartmann, apparently ignorant of what was going on behind her, jumped in with eager helpfulness. “I’ll help you out, Trude. We’ll get everything tucked away in a flash.”

“I thought I’d impose on you, Trude, to take a photo or two of me as well if you don’t mind?” The Commander intervened smoothly, much to Eila’s admiration. “Since you have all your equipment out and all? You girls can go right ahead, I’ll stay and help out afterwards and we’ll catch up to you in a little while.”

“A photo?” Hartmann brightened even further. “It has been ages since the three of us last had a photo taken! What a great idea!”

Eila wasn’t sure why she stepped forward, just that the stunned and slightly disappointed looks she was faced with struck a cord. It wasn’t such a big thing, to want to be able to take a picture as a couple, was it? It seemed mean if she didn’t try to help somehow. “Actually I was hoping you could go over the letters Sanya and I wrote, being more experienced at this than we are. I was also kind of hoping you would let me, um, write down your suggestions for our date? I haven’t really been off-base here for more than the bare necessities so I’m not very familiar with what would be good places to take Sanya.”

While it rankled her a bit to have to make herself seem even more incompetent in front of Sanya, it really was the only thing she could think of. And catching the startled looks directed at her while Hartmann was occupied by grinning at Sanya had Eila feel rather good about herself. She made a small gesture for the other two to back her up.

“Ah, I see.” The Commander stepped in, going from blinking in surprise to warmly convincing in less than a heartbeat. “Yes, you go help them out, it really would be a relief to have that settled finally. And the three of us will make sure to have our picture taken next time, right Trude?”

Eila didn’t hear whatever Barkhorn answered as the three of them were discreetly ushered out of the room, because she turned her attention back to Sanya and, gathering courage somehow, did something she had only dared to imagine before. She leaned in to place a brief but tender kiss right above Sanya’s ear before gently tugging her along.

Her reward was not only a pretty blush and pleased smile, but Sanya also wrapped her free hand around Eila’s arm and pulled closer, leaning her head against Eila’s shoulder lightly as they walked. Eila knew she was grinning like a fool, but she neither could nor would do anything about it. After all, Sanya had agreed to be her girl.

The rest of the day passed quickly and in something of a haze for Eila, despite the teasing she had to endure once certain people found out that she and Sanya were now officially dating, and almost before she knew it bedtime had arrived.

She supposed it should have been awkward, for her at any rate, or different in some big and obvious way, especially since they were to sleep together as was their habit, but strangely she didn’t find it so different at all. Although Eila might have blushed a bit more as she looked away from Sanya when they were both changing into their sleepwear, well, that was not too far from their usual routine.

It was when they curled up in bed like they had that morning, sharing a blanket and wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, with Sanya using Eila for a headrest more than their single pillow, that things felt different. Eila placed a few gentle kisses to the top of Sanya’s head and brushed slow, soothing circles on her back with one hand, and not only did it seem to be quite acceptable to Sanya, Eila received a sweet little kiss to her cheek before Sanya burrowed in deeper into her shoulder and played with Eila’s hair until she fell asleep. Happy and at peace Eila joined her with a smile still on her lips.

---------------------------

The day of the date came before Eila felt she had prepared herself properly for it, but thanks to the help she had gotten the date itself was at least well planned. On the insistence of her superiors Eila was going to wear her uniform even though she hadn’t intended to and Sanya was not, because they thought that being easily identified as a member of the 501st would help ensure that they would not get any unwanted attention in town. Giving herself a quick but thorough polish that had both Major Sakamoto and Barkhorn nod in approval, Eila at least felt her uniform shone to the best of its ability.

She still felt hopelessly drab and unappealing a few moments after she laid eyes on Sanya. It took a few moments for her to regain her breath, much less her ability to form coherent thought, because the other girl was just too beautiful. Eila had seen Sanya get whisked away by a smiling Commander earlier, after overhearing the tail end of a conversation in which Sanya appeared to have asked the older girl to help her ‘make pretty’, but as Eila already thought Sanya was the most beautiful creature alive she really didn’t think there was anything that could be improved upon.

The bashful little angel in a white dress and a short pale blue jacket that was receiving a last-moment application of lip-gloss by the Commander when Eila walked in was just so stunningly beautiful that Eila was left grasping at her heart, held more or less upright by her smiling friends.

Once her wits had returned Eila regretted not looking better herself, but at the same time it became quite clear to her why it had been suggested she go on their date in uniform. Surely any single male in town, or anyone at all actually, that were to lay eyes on Eila’s beautiful girl would try to catch her attention any way they could. Hopefully all the things the uniform indicated would let them enjoy their handful of hours of leave, and if not... Eila straightened with determination.

The Commander fussed over a shy but happy Sanya much like a mother would for her daughter going on her first date, and it made Eila feel infinitely grateful towards the older girl to behold. With her parents gone somewhere half a world away her Sanya could do with some motherly or sisterly pampering sometimes, or just someone besides Eila herself to go to for advice. Eila soon felt more embarrassed than anything else as the Commander tucked the lip-gloss into Sanya’s tiny handbag and gave some final instructions in a low voice and while wearing an expression that made Eila worry. Finally though she had Sanya’s slender hand in hers and the two of them set off for the transportation that would take them into town.

If asked, Eila would not have been able to say much about the matinee she took Sanya to. In fact she did not even recall the name, all she was aware of was her arm slung over Sanya’s shoulders and Sanya’s head leaning on hers.

Completely mesmerized by the girl in her arms Eila never paid any attention to what they were watching, all her focus on Sanya’s face, Sanya’s hand in hers, the scent of Sanya’s hair, how it felt as they cuddled together in the dimly lit theatre. So overwhelmed were her senses that Eila could feel her powers wanting to activate, her second ears itching to come out from just under the surface. She had to push the urge down several times before the show was over.

Dinner was easier, because the restaurant Hartmann had recommended to them was perfect for the occasion, and because they managed to relax and laugh a lot. It was also in part more difficult, for during at least some of the meal Eila could swear that Sanya was deliberately flirting with her. Feeling more than just a bit flushed and light-headed at the end of their dinner, Eila was grateful for the slightly cool air as the two of them took a small stroll through town before meeting their ride back to base.

Just before leaving Eila managed to procure a single flower for Sanya from a street vendor, which made Sanya disproportionally happy and earned Eila a sweet little kiss to the cheek, all despite not being the red rose that Eila had wanted to get for her girlfriend. For the ride back they couldn’t really cuddle as they might have wanted, Eila was drawn reluctantly into conversation with the soldier that drove the truck while Sanya simply sat silently admiring her new flower. They managed to discreetly hold hands though, which to Eila’s mind was a pretty wonderful thing all on its own.

Once dropped off at the base Sanya took control and steered them not exactly to the main entrance, but rather to a slightly secluded corner not far from it, hidden by a tree and some bushes. Briefly the glowing blue-green antenna-like shape of Sanya’s power made an appearance – the glowing crown of her beautiful princess, as Eila liked to think of it – as the younger girl made sure the two of them was truly alone. After she had been satisfied that there was indeed no-one lurking in the bushes or anywhere else, Sanya turned to Eila with a shy smile and stepped close enough to slowly slide her hands up Eila’s shoulders until she had her arms wrapped around Eila’s neck.

Eila suffered a brief bout of panic when Sanya tilted her face upward and closed her eyes, very clearly asking to be kissed. Nervous but determined to do it right Eila wrapped one arm tightly around Sanya’s waist, pulling her even closer, while touching the side of her face with the other. Swallowing hard, Eila leaned down to gently touch her lips to Sanya’s.

It was even sweeter than she had imagined it would be. One brief touch was not enough, and by the way Sanya’s arms tightened their hold around her neck and refused to let any space between them, the younger girl agreed. They kissed again and again, becoming a little bit better at it and a little bit more involved with each passing.

Finally they had to stop to gasp for breath. Sanya blushed and hid her face against Eila’s shoulder, but Eila could still clearly feel her smile against the side of her neck. They held each other lovingly and Eila was so happy she felt she could just burst.

“I love you.” On impulse she whispered the truth, her truth, into soft silvery hair near Sanya’s ear.

Sanya drew back a little to look at her with large and astounded green eyes that were quickly tearing up. Despite already being in Eila’s arms she managed to tackle her with enough force that Eila took a stumbling step or two backwards before regaining her footing, the girl she loved so much sobbing slightly in her embrace.

“I love you too, Eila. I love you too!”

Eila gasped. The skies opened up and rain came pouring down, quickly going from drizzle to downpour. It didn’t matter, it was still the most perfect moment in all the world.

Torn between laughing and sobbing at the same time, Eila lifted her girlfriend and jubilantly spun her around and around, until they were both laughing like the children they could have been. A clap of thunder eventually encouraged them to finally head inside.

Hand in hand they raced through the rain, still with wide smiles on their faces. Eila decided that whatever happened she would never let go of that hand in hers. No matter what life threw at them.