A/N: Just an idea that came to me awhile ago. I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think. :)
The clock approached ten on the night of December 31, 1969, and Maura Isles was in bed—alone in bed just as she was every night.
She shared her tiny graduate housing apartment with another young woman who was rarely home, which often made Maura feel as if she lived alone and when her roommate was home her boyfriend often accompanied her. She never exiled Maura, per se, but her roommate wasn't opposed to having sex with her boyfriend in the next bed. At first, Maura tried her hardest to go about her business as if nothing was happening, but after a few minutes she knew it'd be best if she'd just leave. This happened at least once or twice a week and, on those nights, Maura would find herself at the library with her textbooks. She'd lose sleep, but academically she'd benefit from her roommate's nights of having sex in their room.
Maura had tried to get to know her roommate, but after four months of living together all she knew was that her name was Beverly and she was a first-year law student who had completed her undergraduate degree at Harvard, but was originally from somewhere in the Midwest. That was all the information Maura had on her and most of it she learned from the document she had been given shortly before moving into graduate housing and the Harvard diploma Beverly had hung on the wall. She asked nothing about Maura and Maura dared not ask anything about her.
As Maura continued to lie on her bed, she began to reflect on her life and all she had missed out on. It was the last day of the 1960s and, the more she thought the more she realized she hadn't truly experienced the decade. In the '60s alone she had promoted from junior high school, graduated from high school and college and managed to get into medical school. Her achievements were many, but Maura realized that she hadn't lived. At the age of twenty-two she hadn't a single friend and her romantic encounters were few. She had kissed a fair amount of young men during her undergraduate years, but those kisses were enough for her to know that she wasn't interested in men. The summer after her college graduation, Maura had gone on a date with a woman, but after Maura began talking so excitedly about medical school the night ended without a kiss and without a promise that her date would call her—and she didn't call Maura or stop to chat with her when they saw each other on campus in the fall.
The more she thought about the '60s, the more she realized she wanted to forget them. The '60s were a lonely time in Maura's life, but the '70s were going to be different. At that moment, she vowed to overcome her nervousness and make friends or at least a few acquaintances she could talk to. She wanted a love life, maybe even her first relationship. Maura Isles was going to be like the women she secretly envied and she was going to make it happen now.
Before she could get up from her bed, her roommate and her boyfriend stumbled into the room already drunk from the alcohol they had consumed at a nearby party.
"Happy 1970," her roommate Beverly said as she kissed Maura on the cheek. Her breath smelled of cheap vodka and Maura was taken aback by how friendly she was when she was drunk.
"It's still 1969," was all Maura could respond.
"The '60s are going to be over," Beverly's boyfriend told Maura, his shirt already flung over the headboard of Beverly's bed. "There's going to be an end to this war and an end to inequality. It's like a new beginning."
It's like a new beginning, Maura kept in mind as she quietly grabbed her purse a few minutes later and slipped out of the room unnoticed.
It was nearing eleven o'clock and the streets of Boston were filled with people ready to ring in the new year—people who, unlike Maura, were actually enjoying themselves.
To escape the cold, Maura entered the first bar she noticed. Her intentions that night weren't to spend the new year in a dimly lit bar, but Maura wasn't quite sure what her intentions were to begin with. She hadn't been invited to any parties and she had no one to kiss when the clock struck midnight or, at the very least, somebody to talk to.
The bar was crowded because of the holiday, but even in the crowd Maura still couldn't lose herself. Earlier that night, she had entertained the idea of going out, but since it was a decision thrust upon her by her roommate arriving home early, Maura had no time to change her clothes before leaving her room. Instead of the stylish attire worn by the other bar patrons, Maura arrived in her college sweater and a pair of jeans.
"Are you old enough to be here?" a young woman about her age asked as Maura took a seat next to her. She had an unpleasant demeanor and Maura would have sat elsewhere had that particular bar stool not been the only seat in the entire bar that had just become available. "BCU? Where's your sorority pin?"
"Sororities are for undergraduates," Maura responded. "I'm in medical school."
"Congratulations."
Unable to detect her sarcasm, Maura smiled politely at her. "Thank you."
Maura looked at the empty beer bottles in front of the woman sitting next to her. There were three and she was currently drinking her fourth beer. Whether she had been sitting there for hours or if she quickly chugged each one, Maura wasn't sure, but what she could be sure of was something about this woman fascinated her.
She turned around to glare at Maura. "Do you have a staring problem?"
Maura looked at her long hair and unkempt appearance. "Are you a hippie?"
"Excuse me?" The woman narrowed her eyes at her.
"No," Maura shook her head. "You're not a hippie. Hippies are friendly."
"I'm not a hippie," she snapped. "I'm a cop, which is the exact opposite of a hippie. Instead of dropping acid and wearing flowers in my hair, I'm actually doing something with my life. I take care of myself. I'm not soul searching like all these hippies or living a sheltered life in medical school like you are."
The young woman pulled some cash out of her pocket and placed it on the counter. Without saying another word, she left Maura and the bar altogether.
"That's Jane," the bartender said as he grabbed the cash Jane had left. He was a man in his early to mid-forties and, unlike Jane, Maura hoped he was someone she could actually talk to. "Don't let her scare you."
"She didn't scare me," Maura reassured him. "She's intriguing."
"Don't let her hear you say that," the bartender smirked.
"Is she okay?"
"As okay as she's gonna be," he said as he opened a bottle of beer for another patron. "Jane's always been a good kid. I've known her since she was a baby."
"What happened to her?"
"It's not my place to say anything," he responded before leaving to take someone else's drink order.
Without having placed an order for a drink that night, Maura had no tab to settle, so she left the bar in hopes that she'd be able to catch up to Jane. She didn't know if Jane would actually talk to her and, after the way Maura had questioned her in the bar, she knew Jane had no reason to even want to talk to her, but for some reason she felt compelled to take a chance.
Maura didn't have to look any further than the curb down the street from the bar before she found Jane but, unfortunately, she wasn't alone. She was sitting next to a teenage couple and Maura could have sworn she heard the girl crying. Her boyfriend's arms were wrapped around her and she kept repeating, "I'm not going to let you leave me."
"Lydia, I'll be okay," he tried to reassure her. Her face was now buried in his shoulder and Jane grabbed hold of her hand.
"Tommy is tough," Jane's voice quivered. "He'll be okay."
"We'll get married," Lydia said frantically. "Maybe they won't make you go if we get married."
"I'm gonna take her home," Tommy said to Jane. "I don't want her out too late. We tried to celebrate New Year's Eve, but…"
"It's okay," Jane smiled. "I wasn't going to let you use your fake ID anyway."
"The perks of having a cop for a sister," Tommy smirked.
Jane playfully punched him in the arm. "If you tried to buy alcohol, I could either arrest you or tell Ma and I'm not sure which one is worse."
A sudden realization hit Maura and she wished she could have taken back her earlier interactions with Jane. Jane wasn't unfriendly; she had a lot weighing on her mind, most of which Maura couldn't even begin to fathom. This young man she was talking to was her younger brother, or so Maura had gathered from listening to their conversation. Her younger brother, someone she was protective of, had been drafted and there was nothing Jane could do for him.
Hoping to go unnoticed, Maura looked at her watch as Jane said goodbye to Tommy and Lydia. Ten seconds left of the '60s, she thought. 10...9…8…
"Are you stalking me now?" Jane asked, standing no more than five feet away from Maura. While checking the time and mentally counting down to the new year, she had completely lost touch with her surroundings.
"No," Maura shook her head as she looked at her watch yet again. 3…2…1…
It was now 1970. She looked across the street and saw a couple kissing and small groups of people celebrating. There was an eruption of noise in the bar and, everywhere around her, people seemed so happy and full of life, but instead of being one of the crowd she was standing face-to-face with the young woman whom she had found so intriguing earlier. She had no idea what to say to Jane, yet for some reason she wanted so desperately to keep her near.
