A/N: Thanks to the guest, who pointed out that spending time in Ethiopia while on maternity leave is not that normal :D I agree completely. (I actually know somebody who did that.) I really believe it's completely out of character for Jane, though. But she just had a baby, so give her the benefit of a doubt. No, for real, the reasons why she did it will hopefully become clearer as the story grows.

Now enjoy the next chapter and Ethiopia.


Chapter 2: The one with the writing

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After circling over Ethiopia's capital Addis Abeba for 40 minutes due to bad weather conditions, the plane literally drops onto the landing platform, sending a sharp pain up Jane's spine. Alban wakes with a start and lets out a discontent wail, making Jane doubt all her intentions on bringing this little creature into this foreign world, meaning the continent as well as earth.

Jane cannot even tell, whether the sun has risen or not, plus, she has lost track of the time altogether due to the different time zones they moved through. She wonders, whether Maura has noticed the way she bites her lip, or the doctor is simply back in protector mode even though she hasn't been awake for more than fifteen minutes herself. Whatever it is, her hand settles over Jane's, which is resting on her son's chest. The boy has already calmed, though he still looks upset and a little tousled, his dark curls pointing in every possible direction.

Luckily there's a passenger tunnel connecting the plane to the gate. Outside it is raining buckets and Jane has no jacket in her handbag. Maura had insisted on visiting Ethiopia during the rainy season due to the much more bearable climate, but Jane had no idea that the trip would actually require a lifeboat.

Stepping over the small gap from the aircraft to the tunnel, the handle of Alban's seat slips into the crook of her arm and the smell of eucalyptus seeps through. It has an immediate calming effect on her racing heart, so does the drum of the rain that tunes out every other noise in the tunnel.

Alban stares up at her, eyes wide and she is suddenly overwhelmed with the need to hold him with her own arms, close to her chest. She has not held him in over twelve hours. She wonders if he feels the same. And if so, why is he not asking for it? Why does he not cry for her? Is she really supposed to believe that his intense gaze is his way of asking her to be closer?

Jane looks ahead and finds another person staring at her, Maura, worry in the other woman's features. Right then she realizes she has stopped moving in the middle of the tunnel and tired passengers are mumbling this and that while stepping around her. The doctor is carrying both their handbags and beckons to her to finally step through the gate.

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"So, how is the writing going?"

Jane looks up from her cereal that has freshly cut, very tasty papaya in it. Maura studies her expectantly, a big cup of coffee warming her hands. They had made it to the Medecins Sans Frontieres compound and inside the guesthouse just before it had started hailing.

Addis was noisy, smog-filled, packed with people and with their glances. Rain had been pouring down steadily from the time they left the airport until they reached the inner city, mud running down roads and pavements. Not a single person would set foot on the streets, if that kind of weather hit Boston. Jane had been glad to at least have the cab's walls between herself and the water, between her and everything and everyone else that was outside, in fact. If only Maura's safety trick would work on her as well as on Alban.

Now there is this crackling sound of rain falling on the corrugated metal roof and Mulu, a very nice lady in her mid-fifties, who serves them breakfast has also started a fire in the chimney in the small lounge that connects to the even smaller dining room.

Jane can make out walls outside the window, almost blending into the steady and gray rainfall, but standing tall against the wind and the hail that only scatter the shards of glass someone has put on top, whether to keep people in or out Jane is not totally sure right now.

"I noticed you were writing during the flight", Maura tries again.

"On the plane? Why didn't you talk to me?" It sounds accusing, but the doctor chuckles in response, maybe a little guarded.

"I think it is great that you started right away."

"I was bored", Jane mutters, "and what's that supposed to mean anyway? Do you keep a diary?" She gently pushes Alban's foot down from the tablecloth, but it keeps getting stuck there every time he moves in her lap.

"I take notes", Maura nods. "So, how does it feel?"

"First of all, I have no idea how to answer that, my hand certainly doesn't hurt holding a pen, and second, taking notes sounds very office-like, not like what you suggested I should do."

"When I came to Ethiopia for the first time I also kept a diary", Maura says and feigns being offended. "My mentor encouraged me."

"So you're my mentor now?"

The doctor chooses to ignore her. "Is it hard for you to express your thoughts?" she probes.

"It's hard for me to hear you say it like that." Timidly, Jane smiles despite the truth in her statement. She knows that Maura gets these weird moments. She always appreciated that to be part of their friendship and yet, she could not acknowledge that right now. It actually bothered her more and more often these days.

"No, not really", she admits after she accepts that her unidentified inner struggles will have to stay just that, unidentified, for now. "It's just a little strange. As if I should be talking to, or, in fact, writing to someone else besides me."

"That's why people like to address it with 'dear diary', perfectly normal."

"Yeah, but... no. I don't wanna talk to the book."

"So don't. You can talk to anybody you like", Maura explains and sees Jane's comment coming, so she adds, "while writing."

Right then a man and a woman enter the dining room and introduce them as Mr. and Mrs. Boodenstine.

"You're up early", the gray haired lady says as they take their seats at the other end of the table. Her gaze is fixed on Alban.

"We wouldn't know", Jane counters a little too sharp and Maura looks at her, first in surprise and then reproachful.

"We just flew in this morning", Maura smiles politely back at the couple.

"Yeah, you know", Jane says and is already getting up, "I haven't slept all night. If you'll excuse me."

Maura stands, too. "Let me take Alban for you. He's fed, he has slept and you need your rest."

Jane glances back toward the Boodenstines. Something about them makes her feel uneasy. Though a couple of hours of sleep in an actual bed sound amazing. She could just blame the strange feeling on exhaustion.

"Let's get you to your room", Maura offers and Jane thanks her inwardly for pursuing her plan and feels belittled at the same time. When the door falls shut Maura continues to feed this feeling by asking "Are you alright?" and Jane gets frustrated that each and every of her moves and decisions get for questioned. When it comes to Alban helicopter Maura might be adorable, when it comes to Jane not so much.

It had started long before her son was born. Maybe as soon as Jane had told her about the pregnancy. Maura had been incredible throughout that time. Annoying, but mainly and most importantly she had been present. And that alone was so much more than what Jane could say about some other people. Maura had been amazing, no doubt. Jane just could not figure out what had made her so much more vulnerable in the doctor's eyes.

She fights the urge to slump down onto the bed immediately. She does not want to feed Maura's theories of her weakness. And yet, if anybody told her he or she was not feeling a little weak after being awake for 27 hours straight, she would laugh or send the person over to narcotics. As she finally sits a cockroach crawls out from under the bed and disappears into the bathroom. She wonders if Maura has seen it too and why none of them comments on it. Does the change of the continent really make it less disgusting?

Maura reaches for Alban, who squeaks out a laugh. She does not repeat her question or comment on the lack of Jane's answer. Jane hates her a little less. The little boy in Maura's arms smiles back at her. They both do. They look familiar and it strikes Jane that nothing else really does since she had stepped out of that plane.

They look like family and it makes her feel safe and warm.

"We'll leave tomorrow at five AM", Maura states bluntly.

"Already? Wouldn't it be better to stay here for a bit?" Jane asks quietly, wanting not to risk any turmoil anymore, inside or outside.

"It'll be much better when we get to the west", Maura clarifies. "The weather will be nicer, the countryside as well. You will like it. I promise." Jane cannot help but grunt at the thought of continuous sitting and traveling.

"Let's give your Mama the chance to catch some sleep, shall we?" Maura whispers to Alban and already turns to leave.

"How!? The prayer shouter just started shouting", Jane calls after her.

"It's called a muezzin", Maura replies without looking back. "And they sing."

"No, they don't", Jane grins, but then the door closes and she can finally crawl under the covers. Nobody will care that she has not changed clothes in 27 hours either.