Author's note: thank you again for all the reviews, I really appreciate reading them.

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Chapter ten:

On Schroeder Plaza

December, 18th

Apart from the buzzing of the neon light above her head, the room was silent; cold. Through the doors, she could hear the rare steps of her staff walking down the corridor and going from an office to a lab in the delicate quietness that the morgue seemed to impose rather implicitly. Her scalpel cut in the flesh – deeply enough – yet without blood flooding out. It was one of the advantages of working on cadavers. There was no pain inflicted, nothing that could remind her of life. Nothing damaging.

As she finished the Y incision, Maura put down her instrument and took her time to look at the woman straight in the eyes. She was in her mid-fifties, high cheekbones and thin lips. There was something the scientist recognized as graceful in her features, in spite of death having frozen them for the eternity.

Have you been happy? Have you got to know what happiness really is? I don't think I ever had... For a reason I can't understand, it seems like I'm unable to reach the notion properly. I brush it – at times – but the contact is so ephemeral that I'm not sure. It's more about shades of it, a vague taste that doesn't remain long enough for me to appreciate it fully.

As her assistant stepped into the autopsy room with a series of x-rays, Maura put an end to her silent – odd – dialogue with the corpse and focused back on her work.

She wasn't happy. In spite of all the things that had happened to her for the past few days. Or better said – maybe – because of them; because it wasn't turning out as she had hoped it would.

They had made love again the night before but Jane hadn't stayed. Instead, she had driven back home in the snow officially to make sure that she would have her proper work clothes on Monday morning but Maura knew better. She had to talk to Casey. They always did at the beginning of the week.

"She had multiple fractures that aren't mentioned in her medical file."

The assistant's remark made Maura rise an eyebrow in surprise and with her typical meticulousness, the blonde went to check the x-rays on the light box. She needed to focus on this and nothing else. Jane had to wait – the blurriness of their relationship as well – because there were other priorities. Her heart had ached before, it could keep on hurting for a little more.

But why can't you just be satisfied of what you already have? Why do you always have to wish for more and never embrace the time being? Why do you always live in the expectancy of something more?

She had always been a perfectionist, even in her romantic life. As much as she could define the notion of happiness, it was an exotic concept to her eyes; something that seemed impossible to reach because – no mattered what – there was always another element she didn't own and that would improve it all.

"She didn't fall down the stairs, did she?"

As much as she didn't like guessing, Maura had no choice but to pout at the question. The old fractures – yet still visible on x-rays – and the silence of the medical file put the light on something she had not planned; was never eager to find out on anyone.

"I don't think so, no... She probably suffered from domestic violence at some point in her life."

But by the time death had come to carry her away, the woman was a widow and had been living on her own for long years. She had taken her secrets to her grave and nobody would ever know what she had to go through at all. Such details wouldn't change much Maura's conclusions. It was just an unfortunate discovery about a woman who appeared too lonely to ever have relatives calling nd caring about her sudden absence.

Perhaps happiness has remained a foreign concept for you as well in the end.

The medical examiner was about to enter her own office – after a long and emotionally painful autopsy – when she noticed Jane on the couch. The brunette seemed lost in her thoughts; her features deepened, emphasizing tormented feelings. Cruelly enough, it comforted Maura. At least she wasn't the only one who had a hard time dealing with whatever direction their life had suddenly taken.

The honey blonde counted until five – forced a smile on her lips – and stepped into her office; hands in her white coat pockets.

"Hi..."

They had had breakfast together at the BPD when they had arrived. At usual on Monday morning. Yet they had gone straight into work mode, had kept a reasonable distance all along. The intimacy of their caressed had been left behind in Maura's bedroom, under the pale – quiet – moonlight. In public, they didn't move an inch; didn't change a thing from their usual behavior. For everyone, they were still the same ones: Jane Rizzoli and Maura Isles, colleagues and - against many's expectations - very close friends.

"Hey. I come for the museum murder. There's an issue with the lab results. The DNA is the wrong one."

Intrigued, Maura approached and checked the file Jane had taken down to the morgue with her. Due to professional meetings and responsibilities as the Medical Chief Examiner of Massachusetts, she hadn't followed the whole case process yet was still at the head of it. At least officially. Her name was on top of every single page that constituted the medical file, she couldn't accept the slightest mistake from her staff.

"Files must have been mixed... I'm sorry. The reference number isn't the same on the first page than on the other ones. I'll go get them by myself to make sure there's no mistake again."

Jane smiled – softly enough – and as a veil of red covered her cheeks, something warmed up in Maura's heart. If it weren't for a thousand things, the honey blonde would have taken her friend in her arms and nourished herself of her scent, her body heat. She missed her lips, her hands.

Her breath against her skin.

"Maur'?"

The usual confidence that pierced through Jane's hoarse voice had mysteriously disappeared, replaced by a shaky tone that made the honey blonde smile sweetly; encouragingly. Without a word, the scientist nodded – waited – as she watched how her friend was twisting her hands nervously.

"I was wondering... You know... What if... I mean, would you like... Well, I don't have plans tonight... And err..."

A frank knock on the door made both women jump of surprise and – slightly taken aback – they turned around to look at Senior Criminalist Susie Chang enter the office, files in hand.

"The toxic results are negative for Mrs. Thomson. However the.. Sorry, am I interrupting you?"

Jane blushed at the question – shook her head – then turned on her heels in an inaudible mumble. This was a side the detective rarely showed in public – especially in her work environment – but for once it seemed like her timidity had taken control of her mind and she hadn't managed to hide it properly.

"I'd like to see you again tonight...

Jane"

Long after she replied to the text message, Maura would keep on smiling brightly. As a matter of fact, it would remain there – on her lips – lighting up her features. For the rest of the evening. When in a bath, Jane would trace a path of kisses down her throat and she would throw her head backwards, arching her back; her legs squeezing the brunette's waist tight. She would keep on smiling through the night.