Title: In Which Maura Isles is a Mind-Reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Rating: PG-13 (For images I guess)

Pairing(s): Jane/Maura

Summary: Jane is having nightmares. Maura knows without being told that her girlfriend needs her. Tag to 2.06.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, would I be writing fic for it? Probably. But I don't own it.

Author's Notes: Happy anniversary, my love! You're perfect.

XXX

Jane's nightlight filled the room with a half-glow that spilled across the floor and splattered over the walls and the ceiling. It honestly wasn't doing much to help her, though. She was curled up in the valley between two piles of pillows, knees tugged up against her chest, arms wrapped tightly around her shins. Through a small area between the pillows and the mattress, she could see the clock. The numbers 1:04 glared at her from the face of the digital clock. Seeing them only made her more tired. But she wouldn't be able to sleep and she knew it.

She could still feel the coldness that had dragged through the room when the candles went out at the séance. She could still see the way Grayson's body had jerked and spasmed as he snarled out the words that apparently came from the afterlife. Maybe it was all fake, but in the middle of the night when she was all alone with her thoughts, it seemed far more real. And it all brought back memories of those trips to Salem. The first time had terrified her for weeks after and it hadn't really gotten easier.

When she was a child, she had been afraid of the witches. As she got older, things had changed. The idea of all of those innocent people being burned at the stake was what terrified her. She could only imagine the pure, horrifying agony of watching the flames lick higher, feeling them tearing over your skin―and being unable to do anything but scream. Even thinking about it made Jane's stomach ache and bile rise up in her throat.

All of it was keeping her awake. Every time she closed her eyes, the thoughts of witches and burning and séances flickered across her eyelids like an old-time movie. So she stared blankly at the clock. She could almost feel the dark circles painting themselves under her eyes, the exhaustion pushing its way lethargically through her muscles.

Jane jumped when she heard the sound of a knock on the door. At first, she didn't react except to slide her hand under her pillow and rest her fingers on the curve of her gun. For a moment, she wondered if she was going insane. Who knocked on the door at 1:13 in the morning? Then she heard the sound again and knew either it was real or she was about to go face her own failing psyche.

She cradled her gun in her hand, ready to yank it up at a second's notice and put a bullet in the head of anyone who gave her reason to. The sound of her feet shuffling over the carpet seemed strangely loud. Her heart beat against her ribcage and she silently berated herself for being so paranoid. She reached the door and peered out the peephole.

Maura was standing in the hallway. The glass from the peephole magnified and fractured her image like a kaleidoscope. There was a pillow tucked under her arm and she was clad in some of those Project Runway-esque silk pajamas. Jane couldn't fight back a smile as she let her grip on her gun shift from ready to relaxed. She unlocked the door and said, "Hey, you're here late."

"I saw how you looked when you realized you had to go back home earlier today. You cross your arms and chew on your lower lip when you're nervous. So I had a feeling you would need me," Maura said with a shrug and Jane stepped aside, motioning the blonde into her apartment. Once she was properly inside, Jane closed the door and leaned forwards to kiss Maura softly on the lips.

A genuine smile made its way on to Jane's face, "My god. You're a mind-reader now, too?" Maura opened her mouth to say something along the lines of 'Jane, you know that's not possible' but decided against it. Instead, she ran her thumbs along the areas under Jane's eyes. They were probably already darkened, judging by the way Maura's lips turned downwards in concern.

"Let's go to bed, Jane. You need your rest," Maura said quietly, taking Jane's free hand in her own. They walked down the hall together and Maura freed Jane's gun from her fingers, setting it on the bedside table. Suddenly, now that Maura was here, she felt exhausted. Jane watched as Maura pushed most of the pillow-mountains out off the bed. They felt in heaps on the ground and Maura kicked them into the corner of the room so they wouldn't be tripped on in the morning.

Maura didn't turn off the nightlight, even though Jane knew that the ME had trouble sleeping if it wasn't completely dark in the room. Jane collapsed into the bed and Maura curled up next to her with a breathy, "I love you, Jane." Jane returned the words and let her eyes flutter closed. For a long moment, curled against Maura's warmth, she managed to close her eyes peacefully.

The tranquility didn't last long though. A few minutes went by and the flickering images started up again. Fire, eating away at human skin. Ashy, burn-coated bodies. Her eyes flew back open and her muscles tensed. Maura must have felt it because her arms wrapped around Jane, pulling her closer. A shuddering breath tumbled from Jane's mouth and Maura murmured, "Jane, it's okay. I'm here. It's going to be okay." More nonsensical, soothing phrases were pressed into Jane's hair.

Finally, she relaxed. Her cheek rested against Maura's silk pajamas. The ME's skilled fingers ran through Jane's hair. The touches were soft, comforting. Jane felt safe, cocooned in the warmth of the woman next to her. Gory, horror-movie images faded into nothing. Soon, there was nothing but Jane and Maura―Maura's scent (vanilla and oranges), Maura's warmth, Maura's softness.

Jane fell into a peaceful sleep.

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