"Frankie, have you seen Maura?" Jane asked, rolling her shoulders with a wince.

"Jane, there's over 1,000 people here."

Jane sighed. "I told her to meet us inside the Dirty Robber. What's so hard about that?"

"I thought you hated running. Why are you even doing this?"

"Because my friend asked me to."

"Your friend?"

Jane's gaze moved to the door behind Frankie. Her brother followed her gaze.

"Oh. You mean your girlfriend."

"At least I have one, which is more than you can say. How silly do you feel now?" Jane said sharply.

Frankie didn't reply, but just shook his head.

"Jane!" Maura said, approaching her friend happily.

"I didn't realize we were running as mallard ducks," Jane said, noticing what Maura had on her feet.

"Oh. My foot muscles haven't developed enough to the point where I can run barefoot."

"We'll pitch in and buy you some shoes."

"No. Early humans used to run very comfortably barefoot. Besides, the bare foot strike pattern is far less stressful than-"

"You talking Google: stressful."

Maura paused, a confused look on her face. "Where's your uniform?"

Jane lifted up her t-shirt, revealing the uniform underneath.

"We're a team Jane! Professionals for underprivileged kids' education!"

"Team PUKE?"

Frankie started laughing and Jane punched him in the arm.

"It is an unfortunate acronym," Maura admitted.

"Hey, you could be a hot dog… or mustard." Frankie said. Jane glared at him.

"Now please just take that baggy tee off," Maura pleaded.

"No Maura! Look, I only did this because you said you wanted to do something together."

"I thought you guys did enough together," Frankie said.

"Sexual relations do not count as social activities," Maura said.

"Really, 'cause you're very social then."

"I'm… sure I don't know what you're talking about. Look, please take that shirt off."

"No! I am not going to run as Lady Puke Gaga, no."

"Oh. Okay…"

Maura turned away, a hand to her face. Jane knew that reaction.

"Holy crap. Are you about to cry?" Jane said

"I'm trying not to."

"Maura, no. Do not cry!"

"I can't help it."

Jane let out a sigh of frustration. "God, Maura…"

"Look, I'll let you walk Heartbreak Hill," Maura said hopefully.

"Oh, I'm walking Heartbreak honey. You're going to have to do better than that."

"Fine. What?"

"Next reddish brown stain you call blood."

Maura gasped. "You want me to lie?"

"No, I want you to state the obvious. Secondly, I want you to trim your nails."

Maura looked down at her long, manicured nails. "Why?"

"I'm with Maura on this one, Janie. Why?" Frankie asked.

"Don't question me. Just do it."

Maura sighed. "Fine. I will trim my nails to a more… appropriate length."

"Good enough," Jane said, pulling off her t-shirt.

"Twenty bucks says you cramp out at mile ten," Frankie said.

"You're on, and, double or nothing, I run like this," Jane said, taking off her sweats, which brought a smile to Maura's face.

"I have a pair of these for you too," Maura said, referring to the almost-shoes on her feet.

"Don't push it," Jane said, grabbing her friend's wrist. "Come on," she said, starting through the people for the exit.

Maura started to reply, but her eyes fell on Jane's bare shoulders. "Jane, where did those scratches come from?"

"Remember our deal?"

"Oh. OH." A pause. "You know, Jane, several studies show that pain during sexual activity actually helps to enhance—"

"Yeah, well, trust me, this is not enhancing anything!"

"But Jane—"

"Enough talking from you. Let's just… get this over with."

A few more moments of silence.

"But I thought you said you liked it…"

"Maura!"