Author's note: thank you all for the messages and reviews, they are highly appreciated.

Chapter Three

"Maura! We're on a..."

Jane didn't have a chance to finish her sentence for her efforts were vain: Maura had already taken the call anyway and Emily had just reached the kitchen counter, putting thus an end to a conversation that sounded just as bitter as all the previous ones defined by a similar frame. Jane took a deep breath to calm down. They weren't alone, it was certainly not the right time to have an argument.

Smiling to Emily turned out to be easier than expected. She motioned the coffee maker then grabbed two mugs.

"She is the chief medical examiner of the state, Jane."

Of course Emily had guessed the reason of the tension in the kitchen. She was a very ambitious medical examiner herself so she probably didn't count her hours spent at her workplace, no matter she had young children who were waiting for her at home. Jane's nod disappeared under endless layers of a thick silence. She didn't want to talk about what had just happened. Not now, not here.

"How do you like your coffee? Strong?"

It wasn't the fact they argued that bothered Jane but the fact it was always because of the same thing. When it wasn't the morgue, it was the senator who took the liberty to call Maura in the middle of the night if he considered it as an emergency. She knew that it didn't please her partner and that Maura had no other choice but to answer him yet Jane was tired of it. And concerned.

"I should have chosen a place that has no signal. Next time I'll make sure she can't be reached."

Emily laughed politely. She sat up on one of the stools then let a long sigh pass her lips before rolling her eyes in a dramatic way.

"Politicians always find their way to you." The mischievousness of her wink echoed Jane's smile. "People are wrong to think the dead can wait. Usually when they land on our tables then it means time is running against us... It's not her fault."

"Oh I know that. I just wish they realized she's stressed and exhausted... And how much she needs to have a rest. It's like she can't catch a break."

Jane shrugged. Her very own mother had told her the exact same thing once, a couple of years after she had been promoted homicide detective. Her stubbornness had swept away the remark but she now saw things differently: she was worried for Maura, for her health.

"She's strong and passionate so she has everything it takes to overcome the pressure that comes within this kind of job. You're dating one of the best medical examiners this country has."

Emily was right but it didn't comfort Jane the slightest bit. They had made it to the Berkshire mountains the day before. Not even twenty-four hours had passed by and the senator was already calling Maura. Jane hated that.

"Where are the others?"

The medical examiner from New York raised an index finger in direction of the first floor. It wasn't very late but the night had already fallen, plunging the cabin in a white darkness as the snow seemed to shine under a cold moonlight. The woods were quiet; too much, perhaps.

...

"I like your hands... Your fingers..." Maura's whisper melted into a fragile smile as she let her own hand brush Jane's. "No, scratch that. I don't like them... I love them. I love you."

Could she picture a ring on one of these fingers she kept on caressing? She suddenly let go of her lover's hand as William's words came back to haunt her mind. She was tired, the day had been long and emotionally intense. She now simply wanted to cuddle and stay in bed with Jane until the sun would slide on her skin in a warm embrace the next morning.

Marriage. The concept seemed to be carried by a distrustful blurriness. Maura saw it as a fatal game. It hadn't worked out for Jane's parents and she could hardly say that her very own parents had always embraced their married life with a honest happiness. She felt lost before it; lost and uncertain. Why did people see it as a necessity?

Getting married didn't offer any guaranty whatsoever about the future.

"Do your scars hurt because of the cold temperatures?"

Maura passed a delicate fingertip along the scar Jane had on her left hand. She bit her lower lip and furtively closed her eyes. They didn't talk much about all this yet their silence was incredibly loud. They didn't fool anyone, not even themselves.

"That's okay."

A surge of guilt invaded Maura. Jane was suffering in silence and she couldn't do anything to help her. She hated feeling disarmed before her partner. Something hurt in her heart whenever it happened, something strong and burning. She wasn't responsible for these scars but her incapacity to ease Jane by then always won over her reason.

She planted a kiss on the palm of Jane's hand then took a deep breath.

"William's getting a divorce. He told me about it this morning. I didn't know that things weren't going well between him and his husband. He hadn't let me know..."

And she hadn't seen it come either.

What had happened to the good observer she was convinced to be? She frowned, frustrated and embarrassed. It was a strange late-night bed talk. The wind was blowing hard outside and it reminded her of Oregon except instead of the rain, endless snowflakes were falling from the sky.

Jane's absence of reaction caused Maura's heart to beat faster. She had been too direct and had lacked subtlety.

"But he's doing fine. That's what he told me. He's... He's okay. He's alright."

Maura's attempt to catch back on her tactless attitude fell flat. Conscious of her awkward attitude, she leaned up on her elbow then locked her eyes with Jane's dark ones. She didn't need to speak per se – they could do without words – but she had to make sure that her partner was fine. One way or another.

Jane was lying on her back and stared absentmindedly at the ceiling of their bedroom. Her features were deep and emphasized a seriousness that Maura didn't know what to do of. She didn't seem shocked but almost blasé as a matter of fact.

An imperceptible movement of her eyes caught Maura's attention.

"What do you think about marriage?" Maura's whisper got lost in an ocean of doubts. She had no idea whatsoever why she had asked such question. It absolutely didn't make sense. "Why does it keep on making people dream so much?"

Someone burst out laughing on the other side of the door, in the corridor. Maura briefly turned around to look in the direction of the voice before focusing back on Jane. She had gone too far to give up now. Perhaps she would regret it but such was life.

"I don't know anymore. I don't know if I should think anything about it at all. I grew up thinking it was something... It was part of what we had to do but..." Jane shrugged. "But the more it goes, the more I think it's just like a dangerous illusion of some sort."

The harshness of her words hit the air with an untold violence, an old resentment she had kept for herself for way too long. She didn't mean to scare Maura nor to sound atrociously pessimistic but she had preferred to be honest instead of flirting with a political correctness that would have made her feel guilty.

Maura nodded and settled back on her side of the bed. What an odd way to put an end to a day full of surprises, full of laughs and promises. The darker note of Jane's opinion wasn't that far from her very own one but as her partner turned the light off, Maura realized that she had just lost herself in a labyrinth of uncertainties; of endless doubts.

Her relationship with Jane was an evidence, she didn't put it back into question as she had no reason to do it. But William's innocent remark had stirred up a whirl of wonders within her mind and she now felt completely disarmed.

"Good night."

She closed her eyes and smiled as Jane echoed her words with her own ones. The hoarse voice floated above their heads for a while before dying in the peaceful silence of the night.

Maura didn't sleep well though. She dreamed of failed marriages, of smiles that melted into burning tears and of unkept promises. A harsh absence by her side, hot and icy at the same time. She dreamed that Jane had left her behind and that from the glorious times of her past life only remained now the bittersweet ruins of her vulnerability.

All of this was ridiculous.

All of this but the fragility of life. This was something she knew for a fact: just because Jane was standing by her side now didn't mean that it would always be like that. It wasn't resignation. She was simply being realistic for it was the only way she knew to keep her distance with dreams that may not be as sweet as they seemed.