A/N: Hi! So, this little fic actually came from a piece of an original story of mine which I'm writing. For some reason I do not quite yet understand, I felt the sudden urge to modify this shred and to post it as this little ficlet, so I'm sorry if the characters are a tad different from what we all know them to be. I hope you enjoy it anyway and, if you have the time, please review. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Bye!

Fffff-whoop. Bang!

"And we have a winner!" The elderly man behind the counter exclaims. "Congrats, kiddo. Pick a prize."

The smell of pop corn, cotton candy, fries and hotdogs mingle with the sounds of terrified-yet-delighted screams, laughter and clashing, repetitive tunes along with the rolling of the fair attractions.

I turn to look at the grinning woman standing beside me.

Her wavy, strawberry blonde hair cascades over her shoulders and shines where the multicolored lights sprinkling our nighttime surroundings fall on it. Her freckled nose and dimpled cheeks are pink from the cold, and her emerald green and golden eyes shine with glee and pride seconds after the final balloon pops from the sting of the dart. I can see her melodic giggle escape her lips to float in the air.

Gently bouncing on the balls of her feet, with an oversized navy blue coat and matching wool scarf, this grown woman looks for all intents and purposes like a kid on Christmas.

Her eyes move from the stand to me and widen for a second, searching for approval. I smile and nod. She turns back towards the toys and game. For a moment I can't help but marvel over how the intense play of chiaroscuro on her features is so strikingly beautiful.

My best friend soon picks out a modestly-sized stuffed giraffe, thanks the older gentleman, spins, takes a few strides towards me and reaches for my left hand, which I let slip from my jacket pocket to lightly grip her right.

It's instantaneous.

Automatic.

Perfect.

The fingers interlaced with mine are cold, but the smile reflected in her expressive gaze warms me.

"That was fun."

I open my mouth to reply, but the light thud of quick footsteps approaching and stopping next to us distracts me. I look over to see a little girl – adorable and no older than ten – standing on her tiptoes and steadying herself with her hands on the counter of the stand. Maura follows my line of sight. The girl is staring in awe at all the stuffed animals filling and hanging from the kiosk. She looks longingly at them past a wild mane of brown locks.

From the corner of my eye I notice Maura look down at her giraffe, then back at the girl. Delicately letting go of my hand, she walks over to the child, kneels to get down to eye-level and offers the girl her prize. "Here," I hear her say. At first startled - then unsure - the kid gawks at my friend, looks to the toy, then back at her: no doubt judging if she can trust this stranger. After a moment of hesitation given away by a pout and creased brow, gingerly, a small hand reaches for the animal, pulling and hugging it to her chest. Then she grins at Maura like she's her hero, and Maura smiles back reassuringly before getting up and retracing her steps to stand beside me.

In the distance I can hear a man and a woman's voices calling out a name. I assume it's the little girl's from how she suddenly looks around, fixes her eyes on a spot in the distance and quickly scurries off in that direction.

I take Maur's hand this time, instinctively running my thumb over her knuckles.

I don't ask her why she gave away the award she received after her persistent attempts to succeed. I already know the answer.

It's just who she is.

And I love her for it.