Maura Wears a Fedora

Chapter 1

On a rare Saturday afternoon off, they were gathered around a table at Head Shots, a new beer tavern that had just celebrated its first month in business. A small tumbler of pale ale, one of six tasters from Belgium, was being lifted by Frost as he laughed at something Frankie muttered. Jane rolled her eyes then looked down at her tasting tray, wondering which wheat beer from Germany she was going to down next. Frankie stubbornly refused to order anything other than Ale Smith IPA, professing only a hop-head lover's opinion counted. Maura, surprisingly, was nursing a dark stout made with oatmeal, forgoing the taste-fest challenge.

Head Shots was a typical chain drinking establishment that offered elevated twists on bar food. From handmade tater-tots stuffed with a blend of cheeses and a side of chipotle ranch dip to a seared Kobe beef filet with pureed root vegetables, the menu was unlikely to disappoint. Add the extravagant variety of beers offered and it was impossible not to please a high percentage of the dining population.

Along the far wall hung tin plaques imprinted with the emblems of each beer that was obtainable which changed with the seasons and customer feed-back. In front of that was the enormous bar, the beer taps of local microbrews evenly spaced down its length. Patrons huddled up on stools as bartenders and bar-backs hustled to keep the beer flowing into frosty mugs. Off to the side of the main room was the 'sport lounge' that boasted ten televisions, deep couches, and skimpily clad waitresses dressed in referee uniforms. The main room was regulated to the 'diners' with booths and tables.

"Okay, okay, so…what I want to know is…" Frost was holding court, his eyes filled with amusement. "…who could get the most women, Maura or Jane?"

Frankie snorted then reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. "I got twenty on Maura."

Jane, looking indignant, started to protest but the medical examiner cut in.

"Really, it's not at all fair, Barry. She's not even a lesbian."

"Heeey, he didn't say I had to sleep with any of 'em!" Jane interjected, unwilling to be immediately dismissed.

Maura laughed then took a sip of her beer. Eyes twinkling, she tilted her head at her best friend as if considering the Jane's chances. "Well…no, definitely, no, Jane. I'm sorry. You would lose."

Frankie whistled, lightly rapping his knuckles on the table as Frost let out a long gasp. Their gazes went from one woman to the other.

Arching a brow, Jane said, "Are you saying you're prettier than me?"

Maura blushed slightly, running a fingertip down the glass, gathering condensation. "Of course not. It's only…you're a little-don't take this the wrong way, alright?" The look on the detective's face blossomed into comical disbelief. "But, Jane, you're too uptight to be a lesbian."

Jane's jaw dropped. She looked at her brother then at her partner as everyone at the table laughed. "Oh, I bet if I tried-"

Holding up a hand, Maura said, "My point illustrated. The fact you have to try is indicative-"

"Aww, that's bullshit! Just because you're gay, Maur, doesn't mean you know what you're talkin' about."

"You're talkin' out your ass, now, Jane." Frankie said, ordering another beer from the passing server.

Frost studied the last beer on his tray. "Abort, Jane, abort."

The brunette speared each of them with a disgruntled look. Maura hid a smile behind her beer but, ever attentive, Jane caught a glimpse of it.

"I concede." She announced, grinning. "But only because…I haven't met the right woman yet!"

Maura rolled her eyes. "You're a fine heterosexual, Jane."

It was close to five o'clock by the time Jane and Maura left Head Shots. Frankie and Frost decided to stay, moving to the sport lounge. The cab ride over to Jane's apartment didn't take long. Although far from intoxicated, neither one wanted to tempt fate and had prearranged to leave the driving to the professionals.

When Jane opened the door, a small furry ball darted in and out of their legs, excitedly yipping a welcome. Jane reached down and petted Jo Friday before closing the door behind them. Maura began to softly coo at the dog, scooping her up and burying her nose in the soft coat.

"You wanna beer?" Jane called out from the kitchen.

"Yes, please." The blonde sat down on the couch, still cuddling Jo Friday. "So, you never told me how your date went with what's-his-name?"

"Derrick." Jane plopped down next to her then took a long pull of beer from the bottle.

"What happened to Michael?"

"Sometimes, Maur, I don't even think you listen to me! Michael was three months ago!"

Maura shrugged. "You don't keep them around long enough for me to remember their names."

Jane playfully swiped at her friend, her fingers trailing down her forearm. "You make me sound like a slut."

Eyes wide, Maura whispered, "You've slept with all of them?"

"What?! No! What's the matter with you?!"

"Well, there is that…uptight…thing…" Maura joked, her lips curving into a smile.

"Seriously, you have issues." Jane swallowed some more beer. "You seeing anyone?"

"Casually."

Smirking, the brunette asked, "Is that your polite way of sayin' 'booty call'?"

"No. I haven't had one of those in several months."

Her eyebrows shot up as she sat up straighter. "Maura Isles…I'm shocked."

"Don't be." She murmured. Jo Friday daintily jumped down from the couch. "You mentioned something on the ride over about going through your clothes for goodwill? Are we going to clean out your closet or not?"

"But I thought you said I was too uptight to be a lesbian." Jane pouted, batting her long lashes.

"I think you're sexually repressed."

Gasping and holding her chest, the brunette flounced back on the couch. "If only I had a lesbian to show-"

"Now you're just being ridiculous. I'll be in the bedroom when you're finished."

Maura rolled her eyes when Jane erupted into a fit of laughter, scaring poor Jo Friday half to death.

A few minutes later Jane entered the room and handed her best friend another cold beer. Maura set it aside on the nightstand, still working on her first one.

"It's your turn." The detective said, gesturing to the Jawbone's Big Jambox on the dresser. "Did you download that song-"

"Judge Press?" Maura asked hesitantly as she set her IPhone down next to the Jawbone and clicked her music icon.

"Judas Priest, Maur, 'Living After Midnight'?"

"Well, no, no, I didn't. It was…offensive…to my ears. I'm sorry, Jane."

"Some people need to broaden their horizons." The brunette muttered as she swung open the closet door and began to contemplate its stuffed contents.

"Really, a classical playlist, again?" When the gentle notes of a piano concerto filled the room, Jane groaned loudly then went over to the dresser and quickly flipped through her best friend's phone. "Oooooh, Maura Isles!" Laughing, she trapped her with brown, teasing eyes. "You have a 'sex playlist'?"

Maura's skin flushed with red as she attempted to retrieve her phone from the Jane's avoiding grasp.

"I've got to hear this…please, please?"

The disapproving glare she received was enough for Jane to relent despite the evident signs of pleasure she struggled to contain.

Quirking playfully, the ME's eyebrows lifted while scrolling through her phone. "It's for lesbians only."

The comment, thrown out in gest, nevertheless intrigued Jane. It conjured up vague images of her best friend's hands and mouth, images inducing a decidedly inappropriate response within her. Christ, I gotta get laid soon, she thought, discomfort tugging her back.

Presently Maura, oblivious and humming along to Metro Station's 'Shake It', was going through her friend's wardrobe, plucking things off the rod without pause.

"Hey, damnit, I like that-"

Unconcerned, the blonde added the shirt to the growing number collected in her arms. "Why don't you sit on the bed and I'll show you the outfits I think you should donate, okay?"

Begrudgingly, Jane huffed than spun around and scrambled upon the bed, patting the mattress in invitation for Jo Friday to join her. She finished her beer and exchanged her empty bottle for Maura's full one on the nightstand. Leaning back against the headboard with her dog in her lap, Jane felt a contentment steal around her heart. Most people would opine that she was 'wasting' a date night, cleaning out her closet with her best friend as they listened to music and drank beer. For Jane, it was an essential routine that helped keep the darkness of her job at bay.

The next half hour was spent with Maura systematically sorting through Jane's clothes. When Jo Friday started circling in front of the door, she called out to her friend that she was going to take her out. The leash was hanging from the key rack. She took the extra set of keys from it as well.

"Be right back, Maur." A muffled assent from Jane's bedroom reached her ears.

Meanwhile Maura, satisfied with her progress thus far, fetched a new bottle of beer from the kitchen. The lyrics were breathed through slightly parted lips as her movements gained confidence, swiveling her hips to the music as she reentered the bedroom. When Jane returned, she reunited with Maura, not missing a beat of music as she took possession of the blonde's free hand. They danced loosely together, Jane leading them across the plush carpet, one hand pressed against the small of her back. The jazzy number was loaded with piano and electric guitar riffs as a male's scratchy voice sang, "…she said stop what you're doin' and baby come on homeI said talk to me baby…" Jane spun her around, narrowly evading the small dog excitedly barking near their feet.

Winded but happy, they remained in each other's slack embrace seconds after the song ended. The ME was the first to extract herself, cheeks pink and eyes bright. Jane felt a twinge of regret at the loss of contact. Shaking her head, she decided her mood was being heavily influenced by alcohol and a sexual 'dry spell'. Resolutely she set her beer down. As for the dry spell, she had a 'booty call' list she could consult but the idea didn't hold much appeal.

"Jane, is this a sentimental keepsake?" Maura asked, puzzled as she displayed a men's suit, light blue dress shirt and charcoal gray fedora.

"Halloween costume."

"You dressed in drag? How interesting." Her eyes regarded Jane. "Hmm."

"Hey, I pulled it off!"

"I'm sure you did." She soothed, an enigmatic expression taking over her beautiful features.

Several beers and songs later, the clothes mostly separated into piles, Jane was propping her head up with a tucked pillow, her head at the foot of the bed. Maura was sitting Indian-style in front of her, her blonde head resting against the mattress with her eyes closed. When the notes of a particular began to play, she suddenly jumped up, a muted squeak of excitement escaping her mouth. Bemused, Jane watched her set down the beer and pause the Jawbone, wondering what was going through her friend's mind.

"Press play when I tell you." She instructed, a mischievous glint clear in her face and ducked into the closet with the fedora and men's dress shirt.

A little dazed, Jane tried to make sense of her mood, completely clueless to her friend's intentions. She felt light and heavy, cognizant and befuddled, thrilled and fearful. When Maura called out "Okay", Jane had to shake the inertia and used the remote to press play.

The snarky notes of a saxophone and powerful lungs of Etta James abruptly packed the room. 'I don't want you, to be no slave…I don't want you, to work all day…but I want you to be true…and I just wanna make love to you…love to you…"

Wearing nothing but a fedora and men's dress shirt, Maura gently opened the closet door and came out. Leaning against the doorjamb, her honey blonde tresses tucked into the hate with attractive tendrils caressing her neck, she kept her eyes hidden under the brim.

"…all I want to do is wash your clothes…I don't want to keep you indoors…there is nothing for…you to do…but keep me makin' love to you…love to you…"

Coquettishly her fingers plucked the top button free from its slit as her shoulders glided down the doorjamb. Jane's mouth gaped. Fingers clutching the pillow in her lap, she could do nothing but stare as Maura's hips twisted in time with the music. She found herself captivated by the dark shadow of her cleavage being exposed between her best friend's nimble fingers. Mouth acutely dry, Jane pushed down a swallow.

"…and I can tell by the way you walk that walk…and I can hear by the way you talk that talk…I can know by the way you treat your girl...that I could give you all the lovin' in the whole wide world…"

Maura lazily swung away from the closet doorway and sauntered up closer, her fingers freeing another button, a fingertip trailing between the deep cleft between her breasts. She pirouetted, presenting her back to Jane. The shifting light blue material wasn't so baggy that Jane couldn't see the curve of her friend's ass, the indention of her small waist. Maura looked over her shoulder, the brim of the hat still covering her eyes as she moved to the rhythm, punctuating the singer's words with sharp, clean motions of her taut body. The blonde, teasingly, moved her shoulders, shrugging off the shirt until it hung under the distinct slashes of her shoulder blades. The angles and dips of flexing skin held Jane prisoner. The fact that she was braless made Jane exhale in a whimper.

"…all I wanna do, wanna do is cook your bread…just to make sure you're well fed…I don't want you sad and blue…and I just wanna make love to you…love to you…"

When the song finally ended all too soon, Jane was thoroughly shell-shocked. Maura's impromptu performance, however capricious, had struck a very criminal chord within the detective, seemingly igniting a fuse of desire the brunette hadn't even known existed.

She tossed the hat in her best friend's direction, unmindful of Jane's obvious loss of dexterity as it sailed past her. While the detective's hungry eyes perused the erotic sight of creamy thighs darting in and out of shirttails, Maura was stepping away.

Blinking, Jane sagged back against the mattress. After years of friendship, it was like her vision magically transmuted. The effects of such a revelation seeped into her chest and spread southward, its heated wake fluttering inside her lower abdomen.

Maura Isles' sexy exhibition had been spontaneous, an event Jane couldn't recall ever previously happening in her presence. Always so self-possessed, the ME never hinted at the intimate details of her dating life, merely giving her best friend curt summaries of dates if asked. A thumb's up or down was sufficient enough. Now, watching Maura duck back into the closet, Jane was left to ponder another layer of her friend's personality of which she had heretofore been completely ignorant.

Maura Isles was viscerally sexy.

And Jane felt the reverberations of the erogenous fact hit her in places never before breached by the honey blonde.