Chapter Text
Man Cave
Chapter 1
It bothers me sometimes, how incredibly dense Jane Rizzoli can be.
Youngest officer to ever make detective. First female detective promoted to the homicide unit. Highest case closure rate among her peers.
I could cite hundreds of positive factoids about Jane, but if you've met her, you already know how intelligent she is. That's why, for the life of me, I can't understand why she doesn't see it. Why is it, that Jane can practically see the guilt on a suspect's face before he ever says a word, but she can't see my love for her when it is right before her eyes?
There has to be some kind of a case study on this. Someone out there must have developed a study on the intricacies of blossoming same-sex relationships when one partner is completely oblivious to the other partner's feelings. If not, maybe I could convince Jane to be the first participant in one. Then again, in order to convince her of that, I'd have to tell her what she's missing, and I lack the courage to do so (and that would defeat the purpose of the cast study to begin with).
I spend more time observing human behavior than I do participating in it, and that has left me at a distinct disadvantage in circumstances like this.
I am perfectly, yet humbly aware of the fact that I am an intelligent being, yet lack the social savvy to simply tell Jane how I feel. It makes me feel guilty that I think Jane is dense sometimes. To call her dense when I myself don't know how to just approach the subject with her is unfair to Jane, but the entire situation seems unfair- to both of us. Not to mention how incredibly frustrated I am becoming- both sexually and with my inability to find a resolution to this issue.
Jane is direct and uncensored. If she felt even a modicum of attraction to me, I'm sure that she would have said something to me by now. She hasn't said a word, and the idea of her not reciprocating these feelings is too much for me to bear. I would rather not think about it at all, except I'm not capable of not thinking, and she is all I ever think about.
Long term, careful analysis has lead me to think that Jane is attracted to me, but doesn't understand it. I've never known Jane to not tackle something she doesn't understand though, and that is what worries me more than anything else. She confronts what she doesn't understand. She reviews it. She researches it. She asks questions from those more knowledgable in the subject than she is, and she works it out until she understands it. Her methods are usually just haphazard enough to make even the lowliest scientist cringe, but Jane always gets solid, accurate results. She never runs from what she doesn't understand. She never hides from it. She may be the Queen of Avoidance sometimes, but Jane typically doesn't fear what she doesn't understand. Instead she avoids what she does understand and doesn't like.
The evidence is there. I've seen Jane react to my presence. Her pupils dilate. Her respiration increases. And if I touch her, her skin warms and her pulse quickens. I don't know how she can ignore those feelings, whether she does it subconsciously or not. So if she doesn't understand it, why isn't she trying to figure it out?
I don't guess, however based on the data gathered thus far, I think the answer to my question is that Jane doesn't understand it, and she also doesn't want to figure it out. I'm not sure if she's afraid of what it will mean if she starts to understand those feelings, or if she has simply chosen to ignore them because they are somehow inconvenient to her. I suspect that my brave detective is afraid of those feelings, and when it comes to most things that she fears, she will not admit that she is afraid. Even to me, and I am the keeper of Jane's darkest secrets. That she doesn't trust me enough to talk to me about these suspected feelings hurts me too. It's not just an emotional pain, either. This constant need to hide my feelings and the hurt I feel when I know my feelings are not reciprocated have caused me sleepless nights, endless headaches and dehydration due to hyperactivity of my lacrimal glands.
I don't pray, but every night I go to bed with the same supplication on my lips. Please Jane, figure it out. I love you, and I want you, and I want you to feel the same way about me.