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Chapter Four: How To Make Abstraction Of Details

November

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. Here comes the maid of honoooooor!" Pushing other travellers aside to make her way to Jane – not caring much about the mess she was creating in the process – Amy kept on yelling then opened her arms to the Italian only to finally kiss her rather discreetly on the cheeks. She dropped her expensive leather bag right on the floor and squeeled of delight. "I thought this day would never come. Where is Maura?"

It hadn't been a year but apparently Jane had already forgotten Amy's temper. The woman's exhuberance was taking her completely aback. A British hurricane had just made it to Boston. First victim: Logan International.

"She's at home. There're still many details to work on before Saturday. We're far from being ready."

Amy wrinkled her nose - snorted - and took a pack of cigarettes out of her bag before resuming her walking towards the exit.

"Come on... You are marrying the mortuary version of Bree Van De Kamp. Maura could organize a wedding for like 500 guests within a week if she had to. I know my cousin."

They had barely made it to the sidewalk outside the airport that Amy was already lighting up a cigarette and rolling her eyes; sighing in pleasure. A non-smoking nine-hour flight was definitely a torture for the British woman.

Jane smiled at the remark and motioned her the area - a bit further - where she had parked. She and Amy had kept in touch after Scotland, sending mails and calling each other quite often. They really had hit it off, for the honey blonde's highest pleasure who hadn't hesitated the slightest bit before asking her cousin to be her maid of honor.

After all, the medical examiner wouldn't be on the verge of getting married if Amy hadn't forced her and Jane to make peace in Scotland. And more.

"Oh my God. Is this your car?"

Jane made a face and ran a hand through her hair, a bit embarrassed. Another unforeseen event, one that belonged to a long series of mishaps that they had been facing for a week now. And if she had – in all honesty – to recognize that they had handled the short lapse of time previous to their wedding rather well, things seemed to be taking another turn, right now.

"My car's at the mechanic and I couldn't take Maura's in case she would need it. So I'm stuck with this." She nodded a bit apologetically. "Property of the BPD. I'm sorry for that. Mind you, the cool part is that I can park anywhere like err... Here... Right on the sidewalk."

Amy scoffed and shook her head as if Jane had lost her mind.

"Are you kidding me? This is bloody fantastic! A police car... Wait. You so have to take a picture of me in front of it. My friends are going to love it: five minutes in Boston only and already arrested."

...

"Is there anybody here?"

Flower pot in hand, Maura passed the door of the patio - walked into the living-room - and trotted to her cousin for a warm welcome. She pushed away a strand of hair from her face and smiled brightly before discarding her basil on the kitchen counter.

"It is good to see you, Amy. How was your flight?" The blonde was about to add something when she noticed Jane's gestures in her cousin's back. The Italian was waving like a mad woman; asking her to stop talking. Maura obliged.

Too late, though.

Amy pursed her lips and brought her hands to her hips in an obvious gesture of disapproval. What had happened again?

"Don't try to make me start on another subject than the one we need to talk about, Maura Isles. The lady who is here..." She turned around to point at a desperate Jane. "Took a quiz from my magazine while we were driving from the airport and the results are revealing: you two behave like the old couple you aren't supposed to be... The kind that makes love twice a week - on Wednesday and Saturday - at a regular hour to not trouble your goddamn sleeping schedule and this is not tolerable, Yankee."

Maura blinked, uncertain of what was going on. Perplexed, she cast a glance at Jane who had turned red like a brick and was now pretending to be focused on a stack of papers abandoned on her desk.

"What?!" The scientist shook her head as an incredulous laugh passed her lips. Now that was quite an introduction from her cousin. "We aren't like this. We don't always make love on Saturday night."

And there you were, thinking your family would be loud and embarrassing, Rizzoli. It was without counting on Maura's relatives.

Amy swept away the comment with a gesture of the hand. "Of course, as you sometimes work on Saturday night. Don't play with words, Maura. You two seem to have succumbed to a terrible routine. Thank God I have arrived just on time to save you from all this... When was the last time you actually had sex out of this house? And don't include the car. This is a boring classic."

Jane cleared her voice to catch Amy's attention on something else. Anything else. She wasn't eager to develop such part of her intimate life at noon in the middle of her living-room with a third party. Where did this carefree attitude regarding sex come from, exactly? It was a typical Isles signature.

And something that her very own family would have a hard time dealing with.

"The judge called, Jane. She wants you to call her back. It seems like she needs your opinion on the Smith case before the trial next week."

The brunette nodded. Under other circumstances, she wouldn't have been pleased by this. She had made clear that she wouldn't be available this week. She and Maura had taken seven days off to make sure that everything would be ready on time for their wedding ceremony by the end of the week and none of them felt the urge to add work to such stressing schedule. But by the direction Amy's conversation was taking, she might finally be rather glad to have something else to deal with.

"Is it a murder case?" The British woman raised an eyebrow, her question hitting the air with curiosity.

Jane nodded.

"Somehow... I mean, someone died. Maura can confirm, she worked on it too. But it's a bit more complicated this time, actually."

"Fascinating. Maybe the two of you should take the time to share your cases with me one of these days. Who knows? I might be the next Agatha Christie...!" Amy winked – looked down – and squeeled at Bass who had made it just by her feet.

"You're a writer? I didn't know that." Jane frowned; a bit lost.

This time, Maura turned out to be the one who laughed. She shook her head at her future wife before casting a glance at her cousin who had squatted down to caress the tortoise the same way she did with Amadeus in Plockton.

"No. Amy is a socialite."

"That's a job?" Another frown from the detective.

"Why it surely takes most of my time!" Standing back up, Amy smiled warmly and walked to her travel bag. "Now if you will excuse me, I am in desperate need of a shower. Third door on the left up on the first floor, right?" She trotted to the stairs. "But don't think we are done with this routine conversation, Yankees."

The house turned quiet again.

Jane closed her eyes – enjoying the sudden peace – and took a deep breath. Hurricane Amy was gone for at least thirty minutes. What would it be when – on Thursday – the rest of Maura's family would arrive as well as her relatives?

"Have you solved the issue with the florist?" The brunette's hoarse voice resounded low, peaceful. "'Cause if not... Then let's cancel the flowers and we'll go steal some at night by the city hall. They do have great ones, you know."

A smile began to play on Maura's lips, soon echoing on her features and making her face shine; lighting up a flame in her hazel eyes. She turned around – passed her arms on her lover's waist – and pulled her closer to her own body.

"The city hall only has big – purple – petunias. Something tells me that this isn't the kind of flowers you would like to have for your wedding. Am I wrong?"

Jane made a face and shook her head.

"Alright. Scratch the vandalism idea." She let her arms pass around Maura's neck and began to play with the blond curls absentmindedly; enjoying the scientist's heat brushing with a certain delicacy her fingertips. She smiled, unaware of the way her lips had curled up softly. "I'd never thought that - one day - I would turn out to be one of these women worried about flowers and pastries... And shoes... For their wedding. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than eager to marry you but I must have been naive to think I'd make it through it like a cool cat." She laughed, and shook her head. "It's stressing!"

A shade of delicate pink travelled up Maura's cheeks as she bit her lips, restraining a smile before her lover's confession. She loved it when Jane opened up to her. Such a deep contrast with whom she had been when they had met for the first time. The road had been long but worth every second.

"When I had assumed that I would be a lot more nervous and stressed than I am now. You bring me peace, Jane. A lot of peace. Details are just details. They aren't important, in the end." Maura bent over and smiled brightly in their kiss.