PWP: Asked and Answered (Rizzoli/Isles)
Aug. 18th, 2010 10:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seriousficSo y'all remember that scene in Rizzoli & Isles where Maura bribed Jane into a double date with details of a murder investigation? If Jane had been the one doing the bribery, I think that would've gone quite differently...
Title: Asked And Answered
Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,021
Characters/Pairings: Jane/Maura
Summary: When Maura is reluctant to theorize about a cause of death, Jane decides to get a little persuasive.
"What's the cause of death?"
Maura looked up from the drawer she'd just closed to find Jane waiting in that adorably six-year-old way of her, looking like she'd just gotten done shuffling her shoes. She sighed, having hoped that Jane would get distracted before showing up for her report. Of all the times for Jane's mother to not cause a scene…
"I'll be sure to put it in my report," Maura replied primly.
When she sat down at her desk, Jane was already leaning across it. "What are you going to put in your report?"
"I don't know yet. I'm sending my findings out for some tests."
"Maura, what's the cause of death?"
"Right now, inconclusive. There's one detail I want some follow-up on, but I can't go into it yet."
Jane smugly sauntered across the desk to Maura's back, making Isles feel like a perp being sweated. Jane's hands gripped her back and began to massage her shoulders. It was the first time a Rizzoli-ssage hadn't made her feel relaxed.
"And what's the detail, Maura?"
"I can't tell you. It might be nothing, in which case I would be hampering your investigation with faulty information."
"There is no investigation unless I know how he died. Now…" The hands moved down, sloping over Maura's chest and adding their weight to her breasts. "What's the cause of death, Maura?"
"Jane…" Even in a coroner's office, even when it was a really bad idea and Maura was a good idea kind of person, what Jane was doing with her hands was making her feel like the first few drops of a rainstorm. Wet and getting wetter. She summoned up her best logic. "Someone could walk in."
"Then you'd better tell me fast," Jane husked, her long, dexterous fingers opening up Maura's blouse.
"The use of sexual favors to influence the medical examiner's findings is considered… obstruction of justice," Maura gasped, after a too-long pause to think of the right word. Jane was bending down lower, bringing her smile into contact with the column of Maura's neck, her hands stealing away into Maura's waistband. "Although this wouldn't count criminally, it would be frowned upon by the Boston Police Department."
"Actually, I think the Boston Police Department would like to watch, if they knew I was fucking my girlfriend right downstairs. Better keep a lid on it." That strong, raspy voice was sounding right in Maura's ear so that she couldn't think of anything else. Maura bit down on the yell gathering in her throat. Jane had found her clit.
"Nevertheless, I think they'd agree that this very unprofessional behavior is decidedly sexual. I mean… other way around…"
Maura could feel Jane's smile twist as she stopped her teasing of Maura's clit and put her finger inside. Maura was wet enough to take every inch. She'd have been wet enough if Jane had just smiled at her for more than three seconds. Why did such a hardass detective have to be so damn cute?
"Do you wanna come, Maura? I'll make you come if you tell me."
"Yes, I'd already figured that out, but the fact remains…"
Jane pulled her up like they were wrestling, spun her around so fast that Maura's chair was knocked over, then gave her a kiss that kicked like tequila and shoved her down onto her desk. Maura felt her breasts bound in her bra, a very nice Spanish number that made Jane raise an eyebrow when she saw it. Maybe lingerie wasn't office-appropriate, but it felt comfortable and made office quickies linger. Only in this case, they were a bit too encouraging.
Jane put her hands on Maura's waist and for a moment, Isles thought that Jane would finger her right through her trousers, her panties. And she'd come, goddamn it. She'd come like a broken dam for Jane Rizzoli. But instead, Jane broke the clasp on her belt buckle and drew the fine Italian leather out of its loops. Maura felt like she'd been stripped naked.
"I'll make you come on top of your fucking desk if you tell me."
Maura kinda came a little right then.
"There are… there are some signs…"
"Yes, Maura?" Jane pulled Maura's pants around her ankles, letting them hang off the desk with her legs. "What kind of signs?" She hooked her fingers in Maura's panties, but left them where they were.
"Electrical burns. On the heart."
"Go on," Jane breathed. Maura's panties were coming down her legs in fits and gasps, teased down by Jane's long, long fingers.
"I don't know how old the scarring is. It could be from an entirely different, nonfatal incident!"
"That's okay, Maura," Jane promised. She slid Maura's panties off her feet and flaunted them, a little like a lady's handkerchief, before tucking them away into her pocket like a piece of evidence. "You just tell me whatever comes to mind."
"I've said too much already, Jane, I'd be theorizing without facts. Haven't you ever read Sherlock Holmes? If you…" Jane bent down over Maura, her thigh between spread legs, working against Maura, bone and flesh slamming together like pistons in an engine, starting Maura on her rush to orgasm… only to be pulled back every time Jane paused, leaving Maura writhing under her. "If you theorize before you have facts, then you start twisting facts to meet… oh God… theories instead of… Jane!... theories to fit… oh!... facts! You're doing that on purpose!"
"It's pretty entertaining," Jane admitted. "Well, I suppose I've gotten all I can out of you. Better call it a day." She straightened, and her body no longer connecting with Maura made the medical examiner literally tremble.
Maura's words came out in a rush. "It could indicate that the killer used electricity to shock the victim's heart into stopping, but I've found no sign of electrical burns on the skin, so I don't know how the prospective killer could've possibly done it, further tests will either confirm or deny the electricity hypothesis!"
Jane smiled. "See? Was that so hard?"
"I feel dirty and unprofessional."
"And how can I make it up to you?" Jane asked, fluttering her eyelids.
"If you're going to be smug, could you do it while performing cunnilingus?"
"If anything, it'll make me even smugger." With both hands, Jane took hold of Maura and yanked her over her shoulder in a fireman's carry, transporting her over to the morgue, where she pulled open an empty drawer and sat Maura down on the end.
"This is a very wrong thing for us to do."
"Is that why you're so turned on?"
Maura shivered. "The appeal of the forbidden fruit is a tautology that extends not only to Biblical myth, but to Pandora's box and numerous other belief systems… I think I used the word 'tautology' incorrectly. We'd better get on with this."
"Oh? Had we better?" Jane pressed Maura down. Maura had known she worked out, but she'd never figured on Jane being so… powerful. It was inspiring primitive feelings of attraction toward the dominant alpha presence. "This is just a suggestion, but I think you should come long and loud and hard. And then I should cuff you and make you eat me out until I get bored of it."
Definitely a dominant alpha presence. "I'll defer to your judgment in this matter," Maura said in a small voice.
Jane stood over her, smirking like she knew exactly what the sight of her slouching like a swaggering Neanderthal was doing to Jane. With burlesque naughtiness, she shucked off her jacket, then pulled her shirt over her head, then finally she was holding her bra to one side and letting it drop to the floor.
"Why are you taking all those off?" Maura asked, already painfully aware of what the slight refrigerator chill of the morgue was doing to Jane's already-erect nipples.
"Because I don't want to get them wet."
And Maura knew exactly how this was going to play out. "Jane, we're at work!"
"Then consider it me doing my part to improve office morale." At long last, Jane reached down and opened Maura up. Her eyebrows registered her surprise at just how wet Maura was. Maura shrugged. "You had some kind of goth-death-fetish thing going in high school, didn't you?"
"Death and eroticism interchange quite frequently in myth, such as in the story of Hades and Persephone…"
"Save story time for before bed. We're not doing any sleeping." It would be hard to sleep, with Jane's finger doing what it was doing. "I have a few more questions for you."
"I'll try to answer to the best of my knowledge—" Maura said breathlessly. All the starts and stops, the interminable teasing, had left her primed and dangerously flammable, like a firework whose wick had burned down but not detonated it. And Jane was taking her hard, something gratingly between the rough, sweaty quickies of the police station and the slow, wine-fueled explorations of the bedroom. Two fingers were inside Maura already, and she didn't know how many more she could take before she was fulfilling Jane's request… long, loud, and hard.
Jane took her hand away, the fingers wet and warm, to massage Maura's clit as gently as her callused fingers could. Her other hand slowly delved into Maura with its middle finger, stroking her walls until she found that place that was softer than soft. "What am I touching?"
Maura bit her lip for three whole seconds before answering. "The Gräfenberg Spot, colloquially known as the G-spot, a sensitive area of the female prostrate popularly known as an erogenous zone."
Jane was fucking her in wide circles, her fingers touching it and then not touching it. "And what happens when it's stimulated?" She let her voice drop down for that last word, knowing the science of it would drive Maura wild.
"Traditionally, stimulation can lead to arousal, orgasm, and ejaculation."
Jane's fingers moved in smaller circles, now almost directly rubbing Maura's G-spot. "So what are you going to do right now, Maura?"
"I'm going to… you'll make me…" Maura's head was thrown back, her hands tangled in her hair. Her eyes were closed… all she could see anyway, eyes closed or open, were those fingers working away inside her, acting like a chemical, a hormone, a sci-fi laser ray, making her revert to some primitive state where all she cared about was the orgasm building inside of her. Her eyes opened. Her voice exploded from her mouth. "Come!"
Another finger went inside Maura, returning to that special little place Jane had found months ago and made her own. "No, you're not, Maura." Jane loved using Maura's name. It went back to when they had first met, when she insisted on being called Dr. Isles. Now, Dr. Isles was bucking against Jane as the detective laid over her, hand furiously working between her thighs, mouth slowly coming in contact with Maura's gasping lips. "You're coming for me."
Maura felt herself go, losing her knowledge of the chemical/mental process of the orgasm to sheer animal experience. A strangled cry of pleasure escaped right into Jane's mouth, and although it was irrational, Maura was sure it was that kiss that stretched her orgasm out, like pouring gasoline on a fire. She gushed, splashing against Jane's chest and belly, then spilling out onto the gurney as Jane held down her wildly thrashing body, a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet as she vocalized an orgasm that went on and on and on.
At last, and far too soon, it was over. Her limbs went inert, falling over the sides of the gurney. Jane rolled off her, lying on her side next to Maura atop the cramped drawer. And for a few stretching minutes, Maura could only watch as Jane licked her fingers clean, then caressed herself where Maura's juices had landed on her, then licked her fingers clean once more.
She had a lot of work to do. Someone could walk in at any moment. Their behavior had been shockingly unprofessional.
"You said something about handcuffs?" Maura asked.
Title: Asked And Answered
Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,021
Characters/Pairings: Jane/Maura
Summary: When Maura is reluctant to theorize about a cause of death, Jane decides to get a little persuasive.
"What's the cause of death?"
Maura looked up from the drawer she'd just closed to find Jane waiting in that adorably six-year-old way of her, looking like she'd just gotten done shuffling her shoes. She sighed, having hoped that Jane would get distracted before showing up for her report. Of all the times for Jane's mother to not cause a scene…
"I'll be sure to put it in my report," Maura replied primly.
When she sat down at her desk, Jane was already leaning across it. "What are you going to put in your report?"
"I don't know yet. I'm sending my findings out for some tests."
"Maura, what's the cause of death?"
"Right now, inconclusive. There's one detail I want some follow-up on, but I can't go into it yet."
Jane smugly sauntered across the desk to Maura's back, making Isles feel like a perp being sweated. Jane's hands gripped her back and began to massage her shoulders. It was the first time a Rizzoli-ssage hadn't made her feel relaxed.
"And what's the detail, Maura?"
"I can't tell you. It might be nothing, in which case I would be hampering your investigation with faulty information."
"There is no investigation unless I know how he died. Now…" The hands moved down, sloping over Maura's chest and adding their weight to her breasts. "What's the cause of death, Maura?"
"Jane…" Even in a coroner's office, even when it was a really bad idea and Maura was a good idea kind of person, what Jane was doing with her hands was making her feel like the first few drops of a rainstorm. Wet and getting wetter. She summoned up her best logic. "Someone could walk in."
"Then you'd better tell me fast," Jane husked, her long, dexterous fingers opening up Maura's blouse.
"The use of sexual favors to influence the medical examiner's findings is considered… obstruction of justice," Maura gasped, after a too-long pause to think of the right word. Jane was bending down lower, bringing her smile into contact with the column of Maura's neck, her hands stealing away into Maura's waistband. "Although this wouldn't count criminally, it would be frowned upon by the Boston Police Department."
"Actually, I think the Boston Police Department would like to watch, if they knew I was fucking my girlfriend right downstairs. Better keep a lid on it." That strong, raspy voice was sounding right in Maura's ear so that she couldn't think of anything else. Maura bit down on the yell gathering in her throat. Jane had found her clit.
"Nevertheless, I think they'd agree that this very unprofessional behavior is decidedly sexual. I mean… other way around…"
Maura could feel Jane's smile twist as she stopped her teasing of Maura's clit and put her finger inside. Maura was wet enough to take every inch. She'd have been wet enough if Jane had just smiled at her for more than three seconds. Why did such a hardass detective have to be so damn cute?
"Do you wanna come, Maura? I'll make you come if you tell me."
"Yes, I'd already figured that out, but the fact remains…"
Jane pulled her up like they were wrestling, spun her around so fast that Maura's chair was knocked over, then gave her a kiss that kicked like tequila and shoved her down onto her desk. Maura felt her breasts bound in her bra, a very nice Spanish number that made Jane raise an eyebrow when she saw it. Maybe lingerie wasn't office-appropriate, but it felt comfortable and made office quickies linger. Only in this case, they were a bit too encouraging.
Jane put her hands on Maura's waist and for a moment, Isles thought that Jane would finger her right through her trousers, her panties. And she'd come, goddamn it. She'd come like a broken dam for Jane Rizzoli. But instead, Jane broke the clasp on her belt buckle and drew the fine Italian leather out of its loops. Maura felt like she'd been stripped naked.
"I'll make you come on top of your fucking desk if you tell me."
Maura kinda came a little right then.
"There are… there are some signs…"
"Yes, Maura?" Jane pulled Maura's pants around her ankles, letting them hang off the desk with her legs. "What kind of signs?" She hooked her fingers in Maura's panties, but left them where they were.
"Electrical burns. On the heart."
"Go on," Jane breathed. Maura's panties were coming down her legs in fits and gasps, teased down by Jane's long, long fingers.
"I don't know how old the scarring is. It could be from an entirely different, nonfatal incident!"
"That's okay, Maura," Jane promised. She slid Maura's panties off her feet and flaunted them, a little like a lady's handkerchief, before tucking them away into her pocket like a piece of evidence. "You just tell me whatever comes to mind."
"I've said too much already, Jane, I'd be theorizing without facts. Haven't you ever read Sherlock Holmes? If you…" Jane bent down over Maura, her thigh between spread legs, working against Maura, bone and flesh slamming together like pistons in an engine, starting Maura on her rush to orgasm… only to be pulled back every time Jane paused, leaving Maura writhing under her. "If you theorize before you have facts, then you start twisting facts to meet… oh God… theories instead of… Jane!... theories to fit… oh!... facts! You're doing that on purpose!"
"It's pretty entertaining," Jane admitted. "Well, I suppose I've gotten all I can out of you. Better call it a day." She straightened, and her body no longer connecting with Maura made the medical examiner literally tremble.
Maura's words came out in a rush. "It could indicate that the killer used electricity to shock the victim's heart into stopping, but I've found no sign of electrical burns on the skin, so I don't know how the prospective killer could've possibly done it, further tests will either confirm or deny the electricity hypothesis!"
Jane smiled. "See? Was that so hard?"
"I feel dirty and unprofessional."
"And how can I make it up to you?" Jane asked, fluttering her eyelids.
"If you're going to be smug, could you do it while performing cunnilingus?"
"If anything, it'll make me even smugger." With both hands, Jane took hold of Maura and yanked her over her shoulder in a fireman's carry, transporting her over to the morgue, where she pulled open an empty drawer and sat Maura down on the end.
"This is a very wrong thing for us to do."
"Is that why you're so turned on?"
Maura shivered. "The appeal of the forbidden fruit is a tautology that extends not only to Biblical myth, but to Pandora's box and numerous other belief systems… I think I used the word 'tautology' incorrectly. We'd better get on with this."
"Oh? Had we better?" Jane pressed Maura down. Maura had known she worked out, but she'd never figured on Jane being so… powerful. It was inspiring primitive feelings of attraction toward the dominant alpha presence. "This is just a suggestion, but I think you should come long and loud and hard. And then I should cuff you and make you eat me out until I get bored of it."
Definitely a dominant alpha presence. "I'll defer to your judgment in this matter," Maura said in a small voice.
Jane stood over her, smirking like she knew exactly what the sight of her slouching like a swaggering Neanderthal was doing to Jane. With burlesque naughtiness, she shucked off her jacket, then pulled her shirt over her head, then finally she was holding her bra to one side and letting it drop to the floor.
"Why are you taking all those off?" Maura asked, already painfully aware of what the slight refrigerator chill of the morgue was doing to Jane's already-erect nipples.
"Because I don't want to get them wet."
And Maura knew exactly how this was going to play out. "Jane, we're at work!"
"Then consider it me doing my part to improve office morale." At long last, Jane reached down and opened Maura up. Her eyebrows registered her surprise at just how wet Maura was. Maura shrugged. "You had some kind of goth-death-fetish thing going in high school, didn't you?"
"Death and eroticism interchange quite frequently in myth, such as in the story of Hades and Persephone…"
"Save story time for before bed. We're not doing any sleeping." It would be hard to sleep, with Jane's finger doing what it was doing. "I have a few more questions for you."
"I'll try to answer to the best of my knowledge—" Maura said breathlessly. All the starts and stops, the interminable teasing, had left her primed and dangerously flammable, like a firework whose wick had burned down but not detonated it. And Jane was taking her hard, something gratingly between the rough, sweaty quickies of the police station and the slow, wine-fueled explorations of the bedroom. Two fingers were inside Maura already, and she didn't know how many more she could take before she was fulfilling Jane's request… long, loud, and hard.
Jane took her hand away, the fingers wet and warm, to massage Maura's clit as gently as her callused fingers could. Her other hand slowly delved into Maura with its middle finger, stroking her walls until she found that place that was softer than soft. "What am I touching?"
Maura bit her lip for three whole seconds before answering. "The Gräfenberg Spot, colloquially known as the G-spot, a sensitive area of the female prostrate popularly known as an erogenous zone."
Jane was fucking her in wide circles, her fingers touching it and then not touching it. "And what happens when it's stimulated?" She let her voice drop down for that last word, knowing the science of it would drive Maura wild.
"Traditionally, stimulation can lead to arousal, orgasm, and ejaculation."
Jane's fingers moved in smaller circles, now almost directly rubbing Maura's G-spot. "So what are you going to do right now, Maura?"
"I'm going to… you'll make me…" Maura's head was thrown back, her hands tangled in her hair. Her eyes were closed… all she could see anyway, eyes closed or open, were those fingers working away inside her, acting like a chemical, a hormone, a sci-fi laser ray, making her revert to some primitive state where all she cared about was the orgasm building inside of her. Her eyes opened. Her voice exploded from her mouth. "Come!"
Another finger went inside Maura, returning to that special little place Jane had found months ago and made her own. "No, you're not, Maura." Jane loved using Maura's name. It went back to when they had first met, when she insisted on being called Dr. Isles. Now, Dr. Isles was bucking against Jane as the detective laid over her, hand furiously working between her thighs, mouth slowly coming in contact with Maura's gasping lips. "You're coming for me."
Maura felt herself go, losing her knowledge of the chemical/mental process of the orgasm to sheer animal experience. A strangled cry of pleasure escaped right into Jane's mouth, and although it was irrational, Maura was sure it was that kiss that stretched her orgasm out, like pouring gasoline on a fire. She gushed, splashing against Jane's chest and belly, then spilling out onto the gurney as Jane held down her wildly thrashing body, a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet as she vocalized an orgasm that went on and on and on.
At last, and far too soon, it was over. Her limbs went inert, falling over the sides of the gurney. Jane rolled off her, lying on her side next to Maura atop the cramped drawer. And for a few stretching minutes, Maura could only watch as Jane licked her fingers clean, then caressed herself where Maura's juices had landed on her, then licked her fingers clean once more.
She had a lot of work to do. Someone could walk in at any moment. Their behavior had been shockingly unprofessional.
"You said something about handcuffs?" Maura asked.
