Evolution

Notes: Evolution is the next story in the series of Revelations – Disclosure – Shadows, this story will heavily reference the previous stories and therefore it may be helpful to read the others first. Evolution's general theme will be how Jane and Maura continue to build and deepen their relationship as established in my previous works. The passage that begins this chapter is from "The Dead" by James Joyce from the collection of short stories The Dubliners. The poem that ends the chapter is "The Ragged Wood," by William Butler Yeats.

CH 1: Epiphanies

Generous tears filled Gabriel's eyes. He had never felt like that himself towards any woman but he knew that such a feeling must be love. The tears gathered more thickly in his eyes and in the partial darkness he imagined he saw the form of a young man standing under a dripping tree. Other forms were near. His soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend, their wayward and flickering existence. His own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world: the solid world itself which these dead had one time reared and lived in was dissolving and dwindling.

"Are you crying?" Jane stood in the doorway from Maura's master bedroom flanked by a billowing cloud of steam emanating from the bathroom. Dewey droplets from her shower still dripped from her barely toweled ebony hair to her strongly defined shoulders before carving little tributaries down her arms.

Maura sniffled reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, "It's a very moving story…Jane, you're dripping on the floor." A disapproving eye glanced down at the moisture on the hardwood.

"Sorry." Jane stripped the plush navy blue towel from around her body and bent over fashioning a makeshift turban. Rooting through the various body creams on Maura's vanity Jane looked over her shoulder at Maura who had gone back to her reading, "Where's that unscented stuff, I think it was yellow?"

"I think you used it all," Maura replied, not looking up. She had been just one passage from the end of the story and she wanted to finish it. Jane continued sifting through the creams bringing the various tubes and jars to her nose to sniff, trying to find the least overpowering one.

The story complete Maura set the book down next to her and looked up, "Try the dark blue frosted jar in the back, it's not very strong but should blend nicely with your body chemistry."

Jane lifted the jar and padded, still nude to the bed, "My body chemistry?" she asked with a skeptical look on her face.

Maura straightened up, folding her legs to the side she patted the bed signaling Jane to sit with her, "Fragrances don't smell the same on everyone," she said taking the jar from Jane and unscrewing the silver lid, setting the open jar on the bedside table. She dipped the ends of her fingers into the white buttery cream, extracting a heaping dollop that she spread amongst both hands before starting application at Jane's shoulder and working her way down the long, toned arm.

"Skin type, pigmentation, diet, even medications a person takes can all influence how a fragrance interacts with individual body chemistry. I've noticed that fresh florals and spicey scents tend to smell the best on you." Maura's massage reached Jane's wrist; she reached for one more fingertip swipe of cream and worked her thumbs deep into the palm of Jane's hand, applying just the right pressure between each tendon on the back of her hand and between the knuckles and then down each fine digit.

"Everything smells good on you," Jane offered with a smile.

"Not true," Maura turned her massage back to Jane's palm and began working on the tissue around the scar, "That Christian Dior Addict perfume of mine you're fond of, you'll notice I never wear it. It makes me smell like I just worked out and rolled in cracked pepper and sage."

Jane laughed, "So, it makes you smell like roast lamb? I don't know Maur, you know how I like to eat; I might like that."

"Roast lamb in a men's locker room," Maura corrected, "not exactly tantalizing or sexy," she laughed.

"Ow!" Jane winced as Maura's hand massage hit a tender spot.

"I noticed your hands were bothering you today."

"You always know, when they're hurting versus when I'm just being fidgety. I've been using the rowing machine in the gym, it makes my hands sore sometimes."

"Other arm, turn around," Maura instructed.

Jane swung her long legs up on the bed as she switched sides. She spotted the book nestled in the downy waves of Maura's comforter and reached for it, "Is this one of the books Tara sent you?"

"MmmHmm, that one is a collection of short stories by James Joyce."

The book was old, worn, clearly a well-loved edition. Tara hadn't just sent her sister some brand-new straight off the purchase-shelf books; in addition to the family genealogy book she had sent her own personal copies of favorite works. Jane opened the front cover.

"I am tomorrow, or some future day, what I establish today. I am today what I established yesterday or some previous day." Never stop evolving, never stop seeking yourself, create the future and the you that you want to live and live it. All my love and all my pride, Dad.

Jane smiled, fingering the note, "Which one were you reading…that made you cry?"

Maura spread more cream between her hands as she deftly set to work on Jane's back, "The last one, 'The Dead'."

"What's it about?"

"According to Joyce, the purpose of the stories in the volume is to illustrate epiphanies, or moments of gained consciousness or awareness, many of them painful realizations. In that particular story, the main character, Gabriel is insecure and socially awkward and he compensates for this with a defensiveness wherein he seals himself off from ever really emotionally connecting with those around him, including his own wife. Gabriel has a moment of realization at a party, as his wife tells him a story about a boy she was in love with when she was younger that, despite having been married to his wife for many years he really doesn't know much about her, her past, why she is the woman she is."

Jane closed the book and set it down, "So, in other words, it reminded you of you..."

Maura's hands paused as her body stiffened.

Jane continued, "…how you used to be. The person you were afraid of becoming. Except, you're not that person anymore and we're not going to be that couple, because we've found a way despite all of the issues and insecurities between us to let each other in. Perhaps, through some very dramatic means…or maybe in spite of?"

Jane reached for Maura's hand and placed it over the scar on her ribs as Maura's cheek came to rest on her shoulder.

"It seems we're pretty good at making use of those…epiphanies as you called them, as they come, to move forward, learn from them and grow."

"Jane…you can be quite profound when you want to be," Maura smiled into Jane's shoulder and then raised her head to kiss the bare neck in front of her.

Scrunching the towel around her head to sap up the last of the dampness Jane removed her headdress and ruffled her hair as it fell into wavy sections over her shoulders. Wrapping the towel back around herself she twisted the end and tucked it inside so that it could hold up on its own as she pushed Maura down to the bed and draped across her midsection, her elbow on the bed propping up her head.

"Jane…the towel is wet…"

Rolling her eyes, Jane again stripped the towel off and rolled it up before dropping it on the floor, "Better? I guess there are some things about you I can't change," she said with a wink.

Maura smiled and ran her fingers through Jane's damp hair.

"So, was I right?"

Maura cocked her head, "About what?"

"My critical analysis of your reaction to the story," Jane replied in a faux British accent.

Maura giggled and ran her hand across Jane's cheek.

"I think all those A&E shows you've been making me watch are rubbing off…"

"Clearly," Maura said with a sarcastic arching of her eyebrows, "or you're finally comfortable showing how smart I always knew you were. And yes, I suppose your critical analysis was correct, I did see a reflection of myself in the story."

"Tell me a real story, about you…something you haven't told me already," Jane asked as she tinkered with the hand that Maura had placed on her hip. Tracing lines from Maura's wrist, down her fingers and then weaving her fingers in and out of Maura's grasp.

"What kind of story?"

Jane clucked her tongue inside her mouth before sucking in her bottom lip and nibbling on it, "Umm, ok, tell me the most embarrassing story you can think of that happened before we met."

Maura's brow furrowed and she shifted somewhat uncomfortably under Jane. Withdrawing her hand from Jane's hip she placed the edge of her thumbnail in her mouth and bit down, "Pick something else," Maura pleaded.

"Nope, cause we're not going to end up like Gabriel what's his name from the story. You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."

The memory of the event came rolling back to Maura's mind, a long suppressed memory brought back to life at Jane's insistence. The green flecks in her eyes darkened. Jane had picked up a few observations of Maura as part of their relationship as well. Her eyes often morphed a brilliant and bright green when she was happy but darkened forest green to brown when she was angry or upset. At present they also glistened with a slight moisture indicative of brewing tears.

"Hey…hey, baby," Jane leaned forward, cupping Maura's face, "hey, if it's something you're not ready to talk about, it's ok. I'm sorry, I…I didn't mean to…"

"No, no…I want to tell you, I've never told anyone, it's just, it's embarrassing in a very hurtful way."

Maura took Jane's hands and held them to her chest, "It was the last week of school at my academy in Paris; I was graduating and coming back here for college. I've said before I was the weird girl, I didn't have any friends when I was in school. Certainly not any boyfriends. There was this one boy in my class, Armand, all the girls were infatuated with him. He was very smart and very attractive. Of course, I knew he would never be interested in me. There was a social event on the last night before we were all to leave and Armand asked me to be his date. I…I should have known it was all a joke, but I let myself believe in the fantasy. He took me back to his room and…I had been so lonely all through school no one had ever shown any interest in me. I was a virgin and I thought maybe for the first time in my life I should just leap. So I had sex with him, and it was awful and painful and I didn't know what to do so I just laid there. And then when he was done he got up and said I was the worst…well, he literally said I was the worst fuck he'd ever had and all that time a couple of his friends were hiding in the bathroom watching and they came out laughing. They had set me up and I was mortified. I went back to my room and I cried all night, and pretty much the entire flight back home."

"This, Armand, wouldn't happen to have a local address would he?" Jane asked, stroking Maura's cheek.

Maura laughed, shaking her head, "Not that I'm aware of."

Jane leaned over and placed a delicate kiss on Maura's lips, "I'm sorry that happened to you. That was really cruel. I don't know if I would have ever had sex again if that happened to me."

Maura smiled and ran her hand along Jane's shoulder, "Well, lucky for you I didn't take that approach. You've never told me what your first time was like."

Jane popped off the bed and walked towards Maura's dresser, "Well, it wouldn't be my most embarrassing story, and it's not really on par with your first time…"

Maura sat up, fluffing the pillows behind her, "I doubt many people's first time story is…"

Slipping on a cotton tank top, some panties and a pair of boxer shorts Jane crawled under the covers next to Maura, "But, it still sucked. I think everyone's first time must suck to some degree."

Jane wrapped her arms around Maura's waist and let her head rest on her shoulder, "Bobby Romero, high school, I was 16, he was 18. A whole group of us went to the Friday night football game and then out for pizza afterwards. Bobby and I took a little detour on the way home…one thing leads to another and we're doing it in the back of his Dad's Monte Carlo. It took a couple more times before I realized in the back of a car isn't so much my scene…"

"Good to know," Maura smirked.

"Well, now I never got to do it in the back of a luxury car…" Jane looked up and arched her eyebrows seductively.

"You'll just have to try that in the back of your next wealthy girlfriend's car."

"Damn, well, it was worth a shot," Jane slid down under the covers and motioned for Maura to join her.

"Your most embarrassing moment?" Maura asked, lying on her side face to face with Jane.

"I had been out of the academy like 4 or 5 months, out on the beat. My partner and I got a call on a person acting suspiciously in an area known for narcotics, so we roll up with another unit, see the guy and of course he takes off running. I jump out to chase on foot while my partner follows as best he can in the cruiser and this guy is like Carl Lewis, just taking fences and obstacles like an Olympian. Anyway I was gaining on him somehow and went to try and hurdle a fence and the prongs on the top of it caught me square in the crotch and ripped one whole leg of my pants clean off. Well I couldn't stop so I kept chasing the guy with my pant leg flapping and half my ass jiggling in the wind. He rounded a corner where the other units had anticipated he'd end up and ambushed him and then here I come…"

Maura couldn't hold back the laughter any longer. The mental image of Jane, breathless, in a state of half-undress with the tattered remnants of her uniform tangled comically around her ankle, "Please tell me you wore clean underwear that day," Maura choked out before covering her mouth as tears of laughter streaked down her face.

"Your empathy astounds me Maura."

"Oh, oh Jane…I'm sorry," Maura snorted out one last giggle as she placed a sympathetic kiss on the end of Jane's nose. She took a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself.

"I was in fact wearing clean underwear, gah Maura, I know you take issue with my femininity sometimes but I do always wear clean underwear…they just so happened to be hot pink with neon polka dots."

"Jane…" Maura was gripped with another bout of laughter, "…why on earth did you have…"

"They came in one of those multi-packs! They were on sale…" she lowered her voice out of further embarrassment, "…Ma bought 'em for me and I was low on laundry that week and all my normals were dirty."

"And the other officers, when you caught up with them…"

"Laughed at me mercilessly, I was afraid I would forever be known as 'hot pants Rizzoli.' I had to walk all the way through the precinct to my locker to get another pair of pants to finish my shift. I'm pretty sure everyone on duty that day saw my left butt cheek."

"Can I start calling you 'hot pants'?" Maura asked jokingly.

"Sure…do you enjoy sleeping alone?"

Maura shook her head, "Thank you. I'm glad I told you. I've never told anyone what happened with Armand."

Their lips crashed together, both seeking reassurance and offering support in light of the admissions that brought them story by story closer to full communion.

"So, would uh, James Joyce count all this as one of those epiphanies?" Jane asked, their lips separating only far enough for words to be spoken.

"Perhaps."

"Are Irish writers always so depressing?" The question was only partially in jest. The books were from Maura's newfound sister after all. Jane reflected on her observations of Tara, she had carried a brooding intensity behind her eyes that bordered on discomfortingly dark, more Paddy Doyle's daughter in character than Maura, Jane had concluded.

"No, not always," Maura answered, running her hand under Jane's top to sensuously stroke her lotion-softened skin.

"Not sure I believe you." The mumbled note of disbelief was more a taunt than true question as Jane leaned in to steal another kiss. Maura allowed her the momentary theft before using her thumb against Jane's chin to push her back. Her eyes looked up and to the right and her lips pursed as she scanned her mental inventory before smiling and beginning to recite:

O, hurry, where by water, among the trees,

The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh,

When they have looked upon their images

Would none had ever loved but you and I!

Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed

Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky,

When the sun looked out of his golden hood?

O, that none ever loved but you and I!

O hurry to the ragged wood, for there

I will drive all those lovers out and cry

O, my share of the world, O, yellow hair!

No one has ever loved but you and I.

Jane smiled, brushing Maura's hair back, "That was beautiful. Joyce?"

"Yeats."

"Would you…want to read more to me?"

The grin that couldn't help but spread across Maura's face gave away her feeling of pleasant and appreciated surprise, she never ceases to amaze me, "I'd love to," Maura replied.