- j&m: cc -

She was surprised that she had let Maura talk her into this. Jane hadn't taken a vacation in more than five years. The only time she ever missed work was when she was injured or the odd day to help a family member move. Jane was not one to be out of the action, and the guilt of not trying to pull twice her weight on a daily basis made her feel... vulnerable.

In fact, vulnerable was the perfect word for it. Jane felt vulnerable about so many things - most things. Maybe it was the byproduct of being an uneducated, lanky daughter to a blue collar family in the hick neighborhood of Boston, simple minded and unexposed beyond the narrow vein of society that lived, worked and played within a 10-block radius. Venturing out from a beat cop to a big city detective was the most adventurous move of her life. One she was drawn to by an inner urge to protect and serve like some comic book superhero.

Perhaps it would have been easier if the quest included a mask, cape or armored suit, something that could have protected her from the monster that was Hoyt. It was a cruel twist of fate. She had become Boston's first female detective. She had established herself as a contributor and reliable back up. She had just begun to believe she belonged. Then in one horrific night, the thread of confidence she had built was snapped the moment Hoyt crucified her to the dirt floor of that basement. Bared and raw, she tumbled down a slope of insecurity from which she would never fully recover.

So offense was her best defense and she had become quite good at emanating a fog of confidence that cast off any doubters in the detective pool. Her aggressive first attack put everyone on their heels and kept them from looking beyond the tough outer shell. She lead with a bravado that most assumed was ego borne of excellence. But Jane didn't feel excellent. She felt cheap. Like a charlatan and a fraud.

Bravado didn't work with family and friends. So the weapon there was sarcasm...but the results were the same. Deflect. Always deflect. Isolate. Protect. Control. This was the creed that Jane used to stop her from succumbing to the tidal wave of anxiety that lay precariously dormant every waking moment or her life.

So it was rather surprising that she now sat in first class on a flight to Miami heading toward a week-long cruise through the Caribbean. Every airborne mile took her further and further from her comfort zone. Out of the city. Out of the country. Foreign languages. Foreign cultures. She was gazing out the window wondering how she had let this happen when a soft, warm hand covered hers. Grazing the raised scars on the back and gripping the underside of her palm, a gentle squeeze stopped the teetering for a moment and brought Jane into balance.

Maura was the antithesis of Jane in so many ways. Though she often joked about not being good with the living, Maura was actually a social patrician. Ever the googlemouth, she relished in knowing the right answer and she knew all the rules of etiquette. What to say and how to act. She had poise. And it also seemed to Jane that in the time they had been friends, Maura had become one accomplished flirt.

"I love to fly," Maura spoke softly into Jane's ear as she leaned over toward the window. "It is such an interesting perspective to see life at a macro-level. It's like the planet has its own anatomy. Cities are organs connected by a circulatory system of roads and rails - just like the human body."

"Yeah. And both are made up of mostly water." Jane chimed in looking back toward her friend. She smiled producing dimples in her cheeks.

"Actually that is a common mis-reference. The human body is composed of only 57% water with the average male at as much as 62%. And while the Earth's surface is generally believed to be 70% covered by water, the total percentage by mass is less than 22%."

"Well, that's public school for you," Jane smirked and turned back toward the window.

The flight attendant stopped by their seat to offer drinks. Jane shrugged and Maura politely requested a sparkling water with lemon. The attendant brought Maura her drink and noticed curiously that her guest fumbled to grab the cup with her left hand rather than let go of her companion.

"Maur...Maur...wake up". Jane gently nudged the blonde head that had adopted her shoulder as a pillow. "We are going to land, and it is the last call for the bathroom."

Maura lifted her head but kept her eyes closed for a moment, a contented smirk on her lips. She stretched her neck and slowly looked up, moving her legs aside so that Jane could squeeze past. Even sleeping in an airplane seat was restful as long as her friend was nearby.

A few moments later, Jane had returned and they were touching down on the Southern tip of Florida. Jane reached under the seat for her backpack. It must have weighed twenty pounds with the sunscreen, snacks and service revolver she had disassembled and tucked in its case. Maura could not understand why Jane insisted on bringing the latter, but the off-duty detective would not budge until they had cleared with the cruise line that she could pack her weapon.

Maura on the other hand had a classic Coach roller bag with heavens knew what she would need before their luggage made it to their cabin. It clattered behind her platform pumps as they made their way toward the perky cruise line rep.

First of all, it was humid. Jane could feel drips of sweat running down the middle of her back under her tank top, button-down shirt and jacket. She had stayed at the precinct looking for a break in the kidnapping case until Korsak pushed her into the cab Maura had ordered to take them to the airport. If her well-funded friend hadn't paid for the trip, she would have called the whole thing off to stay on the case. And why was every single person wearing white shorts and obnoxious flower print shirts? It looked like she had walked into the middle of a retirement brochure. And smiles and pictures - all around her like a bunch of delirious cows on happy pills headed toward a cargo bay.

By the time she and her companion pushed their way through the cramped halls and thrust the door open to their cabin, Jane was about to pop her Italian cork. As the door snapped closed behind them, the muffled quiet mixed with the air-conditioned cool and Jane was dumb-struck by the two-bedroom balcony suite with a living room and flowers on every flat surface.

"Holy crap, Maura. This place is bigger than my apartment!" Jane's jaw continued to gape as she surveyed the spacious rooms and decor. "I thought cruise cabins were supposed to be like sardine cans."

"Jane," Maura slid her bag into the bedroom opposite the balcony. "I knew this was the one time I was going to succeed in getting you to take a vacation so I thought I should make it count. Why don't we unpack some things before we go topside for the Bon Voyage party? Take the water side so you can listen to the surf while you sleep."

Thirty minutes and the first of many wardrobe changes later, the two friends were making their way to the deck rail having swiped their room key in exchange for two large tri-colored frozen drinks with fruit umbrellas out the top. Caribbean music streamed from the loudspeakers as couples and families shook streamers and waved to the land lubbers staying ashore. As the ship made its way toward open water, a rakishly handsome man passed the still scowling detective and reached out to the bubbly blonde doctor. They exchanged hello's and began to dance, drinks still in hand. The sea breeze caught Maura's hair and she shook her head and laughed. The wind caught Jane's hair, too, and she struggled to untangle it from the pineapple drink ornament. God, how she wanted a beer.

"Maura, please. Go have a nice dinner. Enjoy yourself. This is your vacation, too. I'm too tired to get dressed up." She yawned and stretched her arms over her head at the thought. "Dennis looks like a charmer. I'm sure you'll have a great time."

Maura finished clasping the diamond and gold necklace that hung short on her neckline. She smoothed the fitted emerald green taffeta dress and slipped into her Manolo Blahnik d'Orsay pumps. "I can't leave you here alone. You need to eat. The 'Anchor's Away' review is after dinner in the forward auditorium. You can't miss that." When they first arrived, Maura had attacked the activities schedule like a textbook, highlighting her favorite options from dockside yoga to napkin folding.

"Oh, I think I can. I'll get something from room service or wander up to the food-never-ends buffet. Besides, I won't be much fun until I get my head out of work mode."

"Are you certain?" Maura searched Jane's face trying to divine if she really was OK with them separating.

"Yes. Just be back before midnight. Or if not, go to his cabin. These walls are paper thin."

Maura's eyes twinkled at the thought and she reached for her purse as she headed out the door.

Jane sat in a pair of soft, loose sweatpants with her arms crossed in front of her against the cool night breeze drifting across the balcony. She had moved one of the chairs out and propped her feet up on the first rail. Her back sagged against the curve of the straps as she listened to the surf. The moon was high and cast a picturesque shine across the rolling waves.

She had been out here for what felt like hours entranced by the gentle sway of the ship. It took her a while to put her finger on why things felt so odd. There were no cars. No streetlights. No dogs barking. Jane had lived in the city all of her life. Out in the middle of the ocean, she felt like she was wrapped in a cocoon of isolation. Surprisingly, it didn't make her anxious. As foreign as it was, she felt oddly in synch with the environment. Slowly, the calm began to permeate her pores like hot water through a tea bag. Her hyperactive brainwaves slowed to a simmer and become still.

She edged toward sleep but stayed focused on the spans of water in front of her. In the far, far distance she could see another ship. It didn't have enough lights to be another cruiser. Maybe a cargo hauler? What would she know? She pondered mildly as a gull cawed overhead and flew out to sea.

It was 11:45 when Maura made her way back to the cabin. She and Dennis had enjoyed a lovely dinner and arrived just in time for the evening show. It was dreadful, just as Jane had predicted. They left at intermission and found a piano bar where small candles dotted quiet tables and jazz filled the room. Dennis was a businessman from New York looking to get dive certified with some B-school friends. This was his first time in the Caribbean. Maura had told him she was a doctor, but omitted the nature of her specialty. He never asked and, in return, she never asked what kind of business he was in. The conversations were light and pleasant. They were each on their second manhattan when Dennis leaned in for a slow kiss.

It was nice and carefree. It wasn't like a normal date. Both knew there were no expectations beyond the few days they had on the ship. They could just enjoy the physical connection without considering a deeper meaning. The slow jazz tones kept their exchange dulcet and unhurried. Lips slowly caressed lips as their tongues languidly tasted each other.

Dennis had invited Maura back to his cabin, but she demurred. Not that she wasn't interested for sure. She could think of no better cap to the evening than stretching naked across a bed and allowing the heavy sway of the boat to enhance the pleasure of their lovemaking. And Dennis was a fine specimen for the job. Maybe if they ran across each other on another evening. But this was her first night on the ship and Maura didn't want to spend the morning looking for her heels under someone else's bed.

She slid the card key into the slot and slowly flexed the handle. The lights were off and she tried not to disturb the quiet as she slipped off her shoes and set her purse on the table next to a half eaten room service sandwich. Maura felt cool air movement and looked up toward the sliding door. For a moment, she thought it had been left open. Then she saw the shadow of a figure reclined in a chair on the balcony. She padded toward her friend expecting that she had drifted off, but as she got near, she could see eyes blinking in the moonlight.

Maura approached the back of the chair and placed her hands softly under dark hair. She ran her fingers over bare shoulders under the tank top and began to slowly massage the muscles that were taunt but not tense. She could have sworn she heard a low moan drift back on the breeze.

"Did you have a nice night?" Jane's voice was even raspier than normal and it vibrated Maura's chest.

"Yes. Dennis is a hunk." Maura's fingertips danced across her collarbone with a gentle touch. She dragged her palms flat along the curve of Janes shoulders and kneaded her toned upper arms. For several minutes she drew her hands up and around to the beat of the surf.

"You didn't have to come back." Jane tilted into what was now a caress and leaned her head back to look up at Maura.

"I know." Maura dropped her head forward to place a kiss on Jane's brow as she gave her shoulders a last squeeze. "Don't stay up too late." And she headed off to bed.