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literenTitle: Period appropriate dresses and other nuisances
Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles
Characters: Rizzoli, Isles
Words: ~750
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Summary: Stupid Maura and her stupid events that she somehow manages to rope Jane into.
Beta: none
Notes: Written for prompt 9 (corset) of the Maritombola @![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
maridichallenge. At first I was going for porn, but then I decided I wanted fluff because I still haven't recovered from S2.
Jane rings Maura's doorbell, then pulls a face and furiously scratches her thigh. Stupid itchy fabric. Stupid itchy dress that Maura made her wear. Stupid Maura and her stupid events that she somehow manages to rope Jane into.
She stops scratching just as Maura opens the door, stares for a second and then says, by way of a greeting, "I didn't realize that bathrobes were appropriate period wear for the American revolution."
"Don't be silly," Maura says. "This is a dressing gown. I was waiting for you, can you help me with the corset?"
Before Jane can reply, Maura strides off towards her room. Jane follows, muttering "Corset?" under her breath.
She's seen a few corsets, so she thinks she knows what Maura is talking about, and she's not sure that it'll be an appropriate look for the evening... except that the thing that Maura hands her doesn't look like the red and black lace affairs that Jane knows from her stint in vice.
This corset is pale pink and it has straps and looks like the complete opposite of sexy. It also looks very uncomfortable.
"It needs to be laced tightly," Maura says as she shrugs out of the dressing gown which definitely looks like a bathrobe. She's wearing a long white shirt (she mutters something about a "chemise") and slips the corset over that. There's so many layers of underwear, Jane gives a silent thanks to whoever invented the bra.
Jane has no clue how to lace a corset. She saw Gone With The Wind with her ma once, and she vaguely recalls Scarlet clinging to a bedpost while her maid laced her corset. She hopes that's not a requirement, because Maura doesn't have any bedposts to cling to. Maybe she could cling to the wardrobe, or to the door.
"Jane?" Maura says, and Jane realizes she's been spacing out.
"Right," Jane says. She gives the laces an experimental tug and Maura nearly stumbles backwards into her.
On their second try, Maura manages to brace herself and Jane starts lacing the corset. It's a bit like lacing shoes.
"This is ridiculous, you won't even be able to breathe," Jane complains every now and then, but Maura looks at her over her shoulder and pouts, so she rolls her eyes and keeps going.
The damn thing is probably squeezing all the air from Maura's lungs, and it's still not enough to stop her from talking. "Did you know that corsets were still in fashion in the 1920s?" she says at one point.
Jane didn't know, but she doesn't particularly care.
After the corset is all laced, Maura pronounces herself satisfied with Jane's work and puts on a dress that looks just as uncomfortable as the thing that Jane is wearing, though Maura's is probably more expensive. She's too well-bred to scratch herself, though, or to complain about the stupid corset.
"Are you sure you want to go?" Jane asks. "We could stay at home and watch crap tv."
"The historical society's gala is a very important event," says Maura, who just won't be swayed so easily. "Everyone will be wearing period dresses. The menu is straight from the eighteenth century."
"I hope the food is more recent," Jane mutters, though she doesn't hold on to much hope. "Again, we can stay at home. We can watch Pride and Prejudice."
"That's from the nineteenth century," Maura replies. There's a pause while she gathers her things and puts them in a period appropriate purse. "Who helped you with your corset?"
Jane pulls a face, because just the thought feels painful. "I'm not wearing one," she says.
Maura looks as if Jane just said that she's not wearing knickers. "Jane!" she exclaims. She pokes Jane in the sides and then gasps again. "You're really not wearing a corset?"
"I'm really not wearing a corset," Jane confirms. Her friend is looking at her with big eyes full of hurt and sadness, as if Jane isn't taking this seriously enough, as if she's not showing up in an ill-fitting, itchy dress, just to be Maura's plus one to a fancy event that she didn't care about in the first place. So unfair. "Come on, Maura, I don't even have a corset," Jane says. "Nobody will notice, I'm not planning to flash anyone tonight."
"For Christmas, I'm getting you a corset," Maura says. "So next time you can wear it."
"Next time? There isn't going to be a next time," Jane exclaims. "And I don't want a corset!"
They bicker all the way to the car.
Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles
Characters: Rizzoli, Isles
Words: ~750
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Summary: Stupid Maura and her stupid events that she somehow manages to rope Jane into.
Beta: none
Notes: Written for prompt 9 (corset) of the Maritombola @
maridichallenge. At first I was going for porn, but then I decided I wanted fluff because I still haven't recovered from S2.Jane rings Maura's doorbell, then pulls a face and furiously scratches her thigh. Stupid itchy fabric. Stupid itchy dress that Maura made her wear. Stupid Maura and her stupid events that she somehow manages to rope Jane into.
She stops scratching just as Maura opens the door, stares for a second and then says, by way of a greeting, "I didn't realize that bathrobes were appropriate period wear for the American revolution."
"Don't be silly," Maura says. "This is a dressing gown. I was waiting for you, can you help me with the corset?"
Before Jane can reply, Maura strides off towards her room. Jane follows, muttering "Corset?" under her breath.
She's seen a few corsets, so she thinks she knows what Maura is talking about, and she's not sure that it'll be an appropriate look for the evening... except that the thing that Maura hands her doesn't look like the red and black lace affairs that Jane knows from her stint in vice.
This corset is pale pink and it has straps and looks like the complete opposite of sexy. It also looks very uncomfortable.
"It needs to be laced tightly," Maura says as she shrugs out of the dressing gown which definitely looks like a bathrobe. She's wearing a long white shirt (she mutters something about a "chemise") and slips the corset over that. There's so many layers of underwear, Jane gives a silent thanks to whoever invented the bra.
Jane has no clue how to lace a corset. She saw Gone With The Wind with her ma once, and she vaguely recalls Scarlet clinging to a bedpost while her maid laced her corset. She hopes that's not a requirement, because Maura doesn't have any bedposts to cling to. Maybe she could cling to the wardrobe, or to the door.
"Jane?" Maura says, and Jane realizes she's been spacing out.
"Right," Jane says. She gives the laces an experimental tug and Maura nearly stumbles backwards into her.
On their second try, Maura manages to brace herself and Jane starts lacing the corset. It's a bit like lacing shoes.
"This is ridiculous, you won't even be able to breathe," Jane complains every now and then, but Maura looks at her over her shoulder and pouts, so she rolls her eyes and keeps going.
The damn thing is probably squeezing all the air from Maura's lungs, and it's still not enough to stop her from talking. "Did you know that corsets were still in fashion in the 1920s?" she says at one point.
Jane didn't know, but she doesn't particularly care.
After the corset is all laced, Maura pronounces herself satisfied with Jane's work and puts on a dress that looks just as uncomfortable as the thing that Jane is wearing, though Maura's is probably more expensive. She's too well-bred to scratch herself, though, or to complain about the stupid corset.
"Are you sure you want to go?" Jane asks. "We could stay at home and watch crap tv."
"The historical society's gala is a very important event," says Maura, who just won't be swayed so easily. "Everyone will be wearing period dresses. The menu is straight from the eighteenth century."
"I hope the food is more recent," Jane mutters, though she doesn't hold on to much hope. "Again, we can stay at home. We can watch Pride and Prejudice."
"That's from the nineteenth century," Maura replies. There's a pause while she gathers her things and puts them in a period appropriate purse. "Who helped you with your corset?"
Jane pulls a face, because just the thought feels painful. "I'm not wearing one," she says.
Maura looks as if Jane just said that she's not wearing knickers. "Jane!" she exclaims. She pokes Jane in the sides and then gasps again. "You're really not wearing a corset?"
"I'm really not wearing a corset," Jane confirms. Her friend is looking at her with big eyes full of hurt and sadness, as if Jane isn't taking this seriously enough, as if she's not showing up in an ill-fitting, itchy dress, just to be Maura's plus one to a fancy event that she didn't care about in the first place. So unfair. "Come on, Maura, I don't even have a corset," Jane says. "Nobody will notice, I'm not planning to flash anyone tonight."
"For Christmas, I'm getting you a corset," Maura says. "So next time you can wear it."
"Next time? There isn't going to be a next time," Jane exclaims. "And I don't want a corset!"
They bicker all the way to the car.
