So, a lot of you have asked. Yes, the groper is a real live human being (named changed to prevent the not-so-innocent.) He is my wife's cousin and I have the distinct displeasure of his being in his company a few times a year at certain holidays. Hooray.

Additionally, a lot of you have asked about my story titles….I'm sure you're eager to read the update, so I'll make some notes at the end.

Happy reading! Thanks for all the reviews – keep em' coming!

"Maur." Jane says low, her teeth clenched. It is so sexy when she does that, and since I told her the reaction I have when she talks like that; I find her doing it much more often. Like this morning, for example, when she opened the refrigerator and gritted out that we needed butter. I quirk my eyebrow at her in response. "Is it possible to kill myself with a fork?"

"Of course." I whisper, picking up the mentioned utensil and making a stabbing motion toward my eye with it. "Quite easily, actually." She grins at me, her love for me apparent and I can't help but smile back at her. "You can kill yourself with almost anything, really."

"Good. I'll keep that in mind." She glances around the table. "At least ma let us sit next to each other."

"I'd rather sit across from you." I argue, careful to keep my tone down as to not be overheard. John's son, who Jane has dubbed 'Derek the future groper' is sitting across from me and hasn't moved his eyes above my bust line yet. He's eleven. Jane has tried numerous times to glare at him to scare him off, but because his eyes are fixated on my breasts, he doesn't notice her evil stare.

Once everyone else is seated, Angela clears her throat. We turn our attention to her, and she gives us all a beaming smile. While I finished preparing dinner, Jane took her mother for a quick walk outside. As I hoped, the fresh air, burst of exercise, and cup of coffee we forced to her drink has helped her become less effected by the bottle of wine she consumed.

"Thanksgiving is a time to cherish each other and become thankful for what we have. I'm thankful for my husband and my children." Angela states, and frowns before continuing. "But I'd be more thankful if my sons could be here today."

Jane sighs next to me and rubs the bridge of her nose. I am uncertain why being around Angela always gives Jane an instant sinus headache. I've heard it is possible to actually become allergic to a person, but it is usually seen as a psychosomatic condition. In any case, Jane clearly exhibits symptoms of allergies when she is around her mother for a certain amount of time. I wonder if Angela would allow me to draw some blood in order to run a few tests.

"I'm sure Frankie will be on his way after work." Jane replies, glancing at his empty place at the table. "You know, after he's done keeping Boston's city streets safe." She adds quickly before looking at me and waggling her eyebrows.

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll be in after he's finished his doughnuts!" John exclaims, elbowing his wife harshly. She laughs at his terrible attempt at a joke, and when no one else laughs, she gives him a filthy look.

John's wife is very unusual, even by my standards. At least twenty years his junior, she doesn't look quite old enough to be Derek's mother, unless she had an underage tryst with John. She also doesn't speak; she obviously is capable of speech as I've heard her make a variety of sounds, but she hasn't actually said an actual word yet. Bizarre. She also is staring at me like she is very displeased with me, but I am not sure why. I certainly haven't said anything unkind to her, and because she refuses to talk, I haven't tried to make conversation with her.

"Aw, John." Jane's voice is laced with sugar, but I know her well enough to hear the tense undercurrent. "Don't be bitter, I'm sure the department would have loved to have you." She gives me a wry look. "He flunked out of the academy." Jane adds, her tone low.

"They would have been lucky to have me!" He says proudly, glaring at Jane.

"I'm thankful for my family. Two sons and two beautiful daughters, what more could a man ask for?" Frank says suddenly, his loud voice silencing the rest of the table. My face flushes when I realize he's included me as a daughter. I look at Jane, who gives me a radiant smile and squeezes my hand under the table. "I'm thankful for this food, too. Let's eat."

"Not everyone has gone yet!" Angela responds, her shrill voice obviously getting to Jane, who rubs the bridge of her nose again. "It's Wendy's turn."

"God." Wendy answers quietly. She looks to her husband, who goes next.

"I'm thankful that the Jets are looking good this year." He looks at his son, who is still engrossed with my body. I would shudder with disgust, but he'd probably enjoy how the reaction would make my breasts quiver.

"Derek, your turn." John puts his arm around his son's shoulders and allows his own eyes to linger on my body. "What are you thankful for, son?"

"I'm thankful for….." Derek mumbles, his eyes roving over my exposed cleavage. It is exceptional in this dress, if I do say so myself, but his reaction to my breasts is growing concerning. His behavior is highly inappropriate and it is making me quite uncomfortable. There is nothing wrong with this garment, and while it does show off my assets, it's professional enough that I could easily wear it to work. It's not as if I am dressed inappropriately.

"Ouch!" Derek cries suddenly, pulling his leg out from under the table to rub it.

"I think we know what you're thankful for, Derek." Jane quips slyly. "Is your leg okay?" She asks innocently, her wide smile well-hidden. He gives her a worried look out of the side of his eyes before turning his attention, once again, to my chest.

"Ow!" He practically screams this time and jumps out of his chair. "Dad, she kicked me!"

"Maura?" Jane asks, ignoring the boy. "What are you thankful for?"

I pause, looking around the table and observing everyone's facial expressions. If it were just Jane and her parents, I would be tempted to give a short speech listing everything that I am truly grateful for, but I don't want any more attention on me from the Connecticut cousins. They really are terrible; Jane wasn't being overdramatic or exaggerating this time.

"You." I respond truthfully.

"And I am thankful for you." Jane states. "Great, let's eat!"

Everyone begins passing around various bowls of steaming food and bits of conversation begin. Angela talks excitedly to Wendy, who doesn't respond back. I overhear part of the conversation, if you could call it that, and it seems to be about the new recipe for beet salad she tried this year.

John is explaining to Frank why the Jets are a far better football team that the Patriots, and Derek is steadily eating whatever is in front of him on his plate without taking his eyes off of his plate. He looks up at my chest once, quickly, before glancing to Jane. When he sees that she is watching him, he instantly flicks his eyes back down to his plate. At least he is capable of learning, and while Jane's "I'll kick you until you comply with my wishes" method certainly isn't acceptable, I am not complaining.

As our meal progresses, I realize that while this dinner could be considered a disaster by many accounts, Jane has made sure to check in with me with quick glances and an occasional fleeting touch. It's actually kind of fun to see Jane in such a playful mood, since Angela is so focused on getting Wendy to talk, she has left Jane alone. Jane has made several teasing comments to John about the police, clearly with the intent to aggravate him, and she seems to be enjoying herself.

I am filled with pride, however. For the first time while in the company of strangers, I haven't spouted off a logic train of 'Maurlogic, as Jane likes to call it. I have answered questions about myself concisely and politely without resorting to my old habits.

"Dad, how did Thanksgiving start?" Derek asks suddenly, removing his eyes from his plate only to glace at his father's quickly.

John looks around the table proudly, as if his son is a genius for asking such a simple question. I'd like to tell them all that by age 11, I was already developing a thesis to argue the merits of the construction of an international space station.

"I don't know, Derek." John remarks.

"Oh, Maura will know!" Angela says proudly, her eyes still glassy from the wine. "Maura knows everything!" She turns her attention to me, smiling widely. "Tell them, honey!"

I close my eyes and see everything of what I know about the history of Thanksgiving running through my mind clearly, line by line, as if I had the printed pages of every history book in front of me.

"What's wrong with her?" Derek asks his father.

"Nothing." Jane snaps. "What's wrong with you, you little perv?"

My eyes fly open and I elbow her in the side. "Jane!"

"Don't talk about my son like that!" John yells as his face flushes, making his greyed mustache stand out even more. He stands up from the table, throwing his napkin down on the floor.

"Like father, like son." Jane retorts as she also stands up. Her height dwarfs his and he glances nervously away to avert her intense gaze.

"Sit down, Johnny." Frank remarks, calmly buttering his second piece of bread. Angela's mouth is open in surprise, no sounds coming out.

"This turkey is delicious." Wendy states as she helps herself to a second serving. It is the first sentence I have heard her utter. She looks up at me, smiling, and I return her smile, my eyes wide with surprise.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" Frankie's booming voice calls from the doorway as he lets himself in. "I hope I didn't miss dinner…" his voice trails off as he enters the dining room and witnesses Jane staring John down.

The room is frozen for a split second, and I use that opportunity to tug Jane back down to my side. Feeling the anger emanating from her entire body, I lean over and whisper in her ear my little secret phrase that I have learned always turns my tigress into a purring kitten. She relaxes slightly and gives Frankie her sly smile.

"Just in time, baby bro. Lookie who came up for dinner! The Connecticut cousins!"

"Hi Junior." John greets him, pulling him into a hug. The look on Frankie's face is priceless, and I realize, that Johnny the groper has struck again. Happy Thanksgiving, indeed.

As promised….

Primum non nocere - A Latin phrase that translates as: "First, do no harm." It is a common misconception that this phrase is found in The Hippocratic Oath, which is an ancient Greek text. However, while this is not the exact phrase in the text, it is similar. It is considered a rite of passage for medical doctors to swear by this oath, and I felt that it was a perfect title for the first story in my series as Maura struggled with her feelings for Jane, and the decision of how to react to them. Her ultimate goal was to keep their friendship strong, and not do any harm to their relationship.

Intueri – This is the Latin term for intuition. Because Maura was struggling with developing her own inner "guide" and the feelings that they were forcing her to deal with, I felt this was a good choice for the title.

Guardium Vivendi – This is a rough translation of the French term "Joie de vivre", or the joy of living. I thought Jane & Maura needed a break and the opportunity to have some fun, hence the more lighthearted tone of this story.