Casey went out of town for three days and Maura invited Jane to spend Saturday with her. Jane knew it was probably a bad idea, but after a day and a half she missed Casey's calming presence, his comforting role in her life.

She agreed to spend the day with Maura without asking what they would be doing.

Now, annoyed at being roped into such a boring afternoon, Jane groaned and not-so-subtly shifted in her seat.

Maura, for her part, was rambling on endlessly in her excitement at the prospect of the medical conference they were attending.

She was finally, after all these years, going to meet Dr. Wayne Gibson, the premier Microcraniotomy neurosurgeon out of UCLA. He was speaking at a conference in Boston, and Maura had managed to secure two tickets to hear him. The event was followed by a meet-and-greet.

Jane sighed in the driver's seat and Maura frowned, her brow furrowing.

"I'm so glad you're coming with me," Maura rested her hand on Jane's forearm.

Jane glanced at her out of the corner of her eye as she maneuvered them into the parking lot.

"Yeah," Jane said. "No problem." She pasted on a smile and they parked.

Maura kept up a steady stream of chatter throughout the registration process and until the lights were dimmed.

The lecture was dry and boring, full of incomprehensible medical terms that nearly put Jane to sleep. Jane spent most of the lecture glancing surreptitiously at Maura out of the corner of her eyes.

When the house lights rose, Maura smiled at her and Jane felt the familiar butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"What did you think?" Maura asked.

"It was uh," Jane swallowed. "Informative."

"I thought it was wonderful!" Maura responded. "Just excellent. He's such an intelligent man, and the breakthroughs he has made in the field of neurosurgery, and more generally, medicine as a whole are extraordinary."

Jane's bemused smile stayed plastered in place as they circulated, chatting with former colleagues of Maura's and various acquaintances. She stayed at Maura's elbow for a while before finally excusing herself to find a drink.

Jane downed half a vodka tonic in a single sip and then made her way back through the crowd towards where she'd last seen Maura. She bumped into a man and realized it was Dr. Gibson.

To her utter surprise, Dr. Gibson engaged her in conversation. The man was arrogant, pompous, annoying as hell. He was practically unbearable and he couldn't seem to get a whole sentence out without insulting Jane. A few of his cohorts stood nearby, chuckling and agreeing and Jane bit back a comment about how far up his ass they were.

Jane saw Maura approaching them so she swallowed her disdain.

"Well you wouldn't understand," Dr. Gibson sneered. "It's very complicated. I'm sure shooting people is difficult enough for you without worrying about things like medicine and science."

"Right," Jane snorted, barely restraining herself. Anger coiled through her, and she felt ready to snap at any moment. Yet, for Maura's sake, she held back, biting her tongue.

"Not everyone can be quite so intelligent," Dr. Gibson laughed, nudging another man in a lab coat next to him. "Otherwise we'd have no one to cook and clean for us!"

"Excuse me gentlemen," Maura stepped forwards. Her voice was tight, cool, practically spitting the words as she moved next to Jane. "But Detective Rizzoli has more intelligence in her pinky finger than you do combined, and more honor and dignity than you could ever even imagine. You only wish you could be like her because you will never come close as a professional, as a spouse, as a friend, or as a person. Now if you'll excuse us."

Maura turned on her heel and stormed away, making a beeline for the exit. Jane picked her jaw up off the floor and followed, only just catching up to Maura when she reached the hallway outside the stately ballroom, which was only slightly less crowded.

"Maura!" she called. "Slow down a minute."

Stopping, Maura leaned her back against the wall, her chest heaving.

"What the hell was that?" Jane demanded. "That guy was your hero!"

"No Jane," Maura's voice was sharp. "That man is a coward. I'm sorry I ever liked him. Why did you let him say those awful things about you?"

"He wasn't gonna listen to me," Jane shrugged. "You gotta pick your battles."

"Well I'm sorry," Maura's voice softened, hurt. "I'm sorry you had to listen to even one second of that man."

Jane's shoulders slumped.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have talked to him. He just bumped into me and I tried to tell him how much we liked his presentation and…" She shrugged helplessly.

"Don't apologize," Maura insisted, her eyes blazing. "You did nothing wrong. You came to something that I wanted and you didn't complain and you're… you're wonderful Jane. I meant what I said, you're very intelligent."

"I'm no doctor," Jane brushed the compliment aside. "And of course I came. You're my best friend- that's what friends do."

Overwhelmed by the sad, lost look on Maura's face, Jane pulled her into a brief embrace.

"You know what else they do?" Jane dug up a smile, just for Maura. "They bitch over drinks. Let's get out of here, huh?"

Nodding, Maura allowed Jane to lead her out of the crowded building. The melancholy draped around Maura was suffocating.

Jane felt horrible.

She'd just ruined the event Maura had been looking forward to, and worse she had taken away one of Maura's life-long idols.

The car ride was silent. At the bar, Jane ordered while Maura secured a booth. Neither made eye contact, silently blaming themselves for the afternoon's events.

When the waitress deposited Jane's beer and Maura's favorite wine, Maura nearly burst into tears.

Jane hadn't even asked what she wanted, knowing that the wine was what she needed to help wash away some of the sorrow.

"I'm sorry," Jane broke her train of thought. "I really screwed the pooch on this one."

Maura opened her mouth to protest but Jane continued.

"This meant so much to you and I went and screwed it up," she went on. "I'm really sorry. If there's something I can do to make it up to you, just say. We'll go to every medical conference east of the Mississippi and I will keep my big fat mouth shut."

Maura took a sip of wine but didn't respond.

Jane knew the pathetic sorrow on her face was overwhelming but she couldn't shake it.

"You did nothing wrong," Maura found her voice. Her words were steely, leaving no room for debate. "I am so sorry, Jane. If I had known Dr. Gibson was such a… a… a pompous ass, I never would have gone, and I certainly wouldn't have made you attend."

"Hey," Jane soothed. "You had no way of knowing. And you didn't make me attend- I wanted to go with you."

Maura's skeptical look made Jane smile.

"Ok, yeah," she allowed. "It might not have been my first choice. But getting to spend the day with you will always be my first choice. This was not your fault and you have nothing to be sorry for. If anything, watching you get all righteously indignant was worth the two hours of listening to him drone on."

Jane's smile was warm and soft. When Maura laughed softly in response, Jane's smile blossomed into a full-face grin.

"Now," Jane nodded. "Let's enjoy the rest of this day. I think we should start by finding you a new hero."

"I think I'm good," Maura laughed.

"Really?" Jane teased. "Because I've got some suggestions. I always thought Stevens in Vice would look great in tights and a cape."

Maura laughed as they both pictured the elderly, portly detective in tights, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

"Jane," she scoffed, failing to hide her grin. "Be nice."

"Ok, ok," Jane laughed. "We'll work on it. Maybe you have some suggestions- recent Nobel Peace Prize winners? Fancy-pants research doctors? Caped crusaders of the comic book persuasion? I'm flexible here."

Maura grinned and took a sip of her wine. Her leg bumped Jane's under the table and neither woman pulled away.

"I am sorry," Maura said again. "You know that none of what he said was true, right?"

Jane flushed and averted her gaze.

"It's ok," she shrugged.

"No," Maura put a hand over Jane's where it rested on the table between them. Jane looked up. "I meant what I said," Maura continued. "He will never be close to you as a professional, as a spouse, as a friend, or as a person. You are better than him in every way imaginable, Jane."

Jane awkwardly pulled her hand back and Maura tried to cover the hurt in her eyes.

"Yeah," Jane hedged. "Thanks. Let's talk about something else."

Neither woman knew what else to talk about.

Maura swirled the last of her wine in its glass.

"I should be getting home," she suggested softly.

"Ok," Jane nodded, draining her beer in one gulp. "I'll drop you off."

"No that's ok," Maura refused, needing space from her friend to think. "I'll get a taxi."

Jane looked poised to protest but Maura stood abruptly. She reached for her wallet but Jane waved her off.

"Well," Maura shifted awkwardly. "Thank you for… everything."

Maura had a look of sorrowful confusion on her face. Jane wanted to lean down and kiss it away.

Instead, she fled.

In her car, Jane took deep, sawing breaths until she could think.

"This isn't me," she said aloud into the empty car. "This isn't me."

There was, of course, no response.

That week, Jane felt Maura's presence like a suffocating cloud. It surrounded her, seemed like Maura was everywhere.

Jane knew she was short-tempered with her friend, that Maura sensed her unease, but Jane cloaked her turmoil in the stress from their case and kept her head down.

That weekend, Jane doted on Casey. She made him an elaborate breakfast, watched his choices on TV, was even more affectionate than normal.

Part of her felt dirty, like she was lying or covering something up. Part of her felt like it was wrong.

But she still loved Casey, still valued and trusted and cherished him. She'd been neglecting him of late, in her struggle, and knew he had noticed.

He didn't push though, didn't pry- he knew she would come to him in her own time. It was one of the many things she loved about him.

And she did still love him.

She did.

For a moment, late Sunday afternoon, she thought about telling him. Talking to him about her feelings for Maura.

Something stopped her.

Instead, she kissed him. They made love and he still knew just how to make her feel cherished and feminine. He made her feel loved and protected and the pleasure was undeniable in his arms.

When she came, she thought of Maura.

Monday morning rolled around and Jane hadn't slept at all.

She ached, from head to toe. Her heart hurt, her eyes were gritty, her temples throbbed, her energy flagged.

When Maura saw her, her brow darkened and she ushered Jane into an armchair in her office.

"What's wrong?" Maura soothed, her hands immediately kneading gently at Jane's shoulders.

Jane arched under her touch, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Couldn't sleep," she replied. "But I'm fine."

"You're very tense," Maura responded, working her fingers against a knot in Jane's back.

"Jeeze," Jane gritted.

"I'm sorry," Maura paused. "Does that hurt?"

"No," Jane forced out. "I mean yeah, for a second, but then- damn."

Maura chuckled.

"Yes," she continued moving her hands. "Muscle soreness is usually due to adhesions in muscles, tendons, and ligaments that block circulation and cause pain and inflammation. Massage works by physically breaking down these adhesions to relieve pain and restore normal movement."

"I don't care what you're doing," Jane moaned. "As long as you keep doing it."

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Maura asked.

"Just a lot on my mind," Jane deflected.

"Care to share?"

"It's nothing."

The lapsed into silence and Maura continued her heavenly touch until Jane was completely pliant under her hands.

"All better," Maura whispered, pulling back. Her hands rested firmly on Jane's shoulders.

Jane took a deep breath. She knew Maura was hurt by her refusal to share what was keeping her up a night.

"Thanks Maura," Jane turned to meet her eyes. "I really appreciate it."

Maura nodded, flashed her a small smile, then moved away behind her desk.

"You're welcome," she replied. "Anytime."

"I might take you up on that," Jane teased.

Maura simply smiled again, that same polite, meaningless little smile Jane suspected had been drilled into her by her parents.

"So I'll see you later?" Jane suggested.

"Of course," Maura shuffled some papers on her desk.

Jane hesitated. She couldn't tell Maura the truth, but she hated the lie. With no other choice, she turned and left the office.

The tension that Maura had removed seemed to flood back instantly. The rest of the day was hellish, and when Jane got home she drank two shots of whiskey before climbing straight into bed.

She would do better tomorrow, she promised.

She needed some ground rules.

There had to be a line she wouldn't cross, something much more solid than no kissing.

She couldn't let Maura touch her. She couldn't touch Maura.

The physical distance seemed to be the only way she'd retain any sanity.

Even that was a shot in the dark, was doomed to fail.