A/N: Wow! The reaction to the last chapter was quite overwhelming. Thank you all so much. I think I've replied to all who messaged me or left a comment/review. Apologies if I missed you. ...and sorry for making so many of you cry. I apparently underestimated how sad you all would find it.

I hope you continue to enjoy the stories.

Jane was sure of two things: 1. Work Christmas parties are evil. 2. She was dieing. That, or she was experiencing the worst hangover in the history of the world. EVER.

Her throat parched, she gradually inched her arm to her bedside table. Praying she'd had the foresight to leave a bottle of water there.

Nothing.

Groaning at her stupidity she cracked open an eye.

The sunlight streaming through her bedroom window struck her bloodshot eye. Pain hammering through her skull, she slammed it shut, but the damage was done.

"Son of a bitch!"

A low moan sounded beside her, as a body shifted under the covers.

Jane froze, chanting "Please let it be Maura! Please let it be Maura!" in her mind like a mantra. Over and over.

"Mau-" Jane choked on the name. Her throat so dry she couldn't speak.

It was no use, she'd have to open her eyes.

Bracing herself for the pain, she slowly opened them. Blinking furiously to try and clear her foggy mind.

Looking to her left in an attempt to discover just who she was sharing her bed with, the whole room tilted and then spun. Jane fought the urge to vomit. Taking slow cleansing breaths.

Reopening her eyes, she was none the wiser as to who was next to her. Whoever was there was buried under a mountain of covers.

It was time for Jane to do what she did best. Detect.

Craning her neck slightly, she looked about the room. It looked as if a tornado had ripped through it.

Empty beer bottles scattered the floor, everything atop her dresser had been knocked over. The bedside lamp and alarm clock lay haphazardly on her floor.

Various items of her clothing were in opposite corners of the room, her bra hanging from the door handle.

It was then that she realised she was naked.

Jane didn't know what was scarier. The person next to her being Maura, or not being Maura.

She scanned the room, desperately searching for a scrap of evidence as to who was in her bed.

Bleary, barely functioning eyes raked the room. Flitting from place to place, until they settled on a tie. A gold tie with little reindeer all over. A tacky Christmas tie she last remembered seeing around Frost's neck.

Heart in throat, Jane once again prayed. This time begging anyone that could hear her that it wasn't her partner in her bed.

Terrified of what she'd find if she looked, Jane decided water was the next most pressing issue to deal with.

Trying her best not to disturb whoever was next to her (she refused to accept that it might be Frost), Jane crawled out form under her covers, grabbing her robe to cover herself with.

Tiptoeing as best she could in her condition, she made her way into the living room.

A trail of men's clothing led from the front door to her bedroom, and just like that god damn tacky Christmas tie, Jane was sure the various suit items belonged to Frost.

She wracked her brain for a plausible explanation, but she couldn't remember a damn thing about the previous night.

Deep in denial, the detective shuffled into her kitchen.

Retrieving a glass from the cabinet, she turned to her sink to fill it. Then promptly froze, not quite believing her eyes.

A frog sat in her sink. A shallow pool of water and some lettuce leaves for company.

"What the hell? What on earth happened last night?" The sentence was no more than a garbled rasp.

Ignoring the frog, which seemed to be staring at her disdainfully, Jane filled her glass.

Sipping the water slowly, she cast her eyes about her apartment. Somewhere there would be something that explained Frost's suit and Jane's nakedness. The obvious was not an option.

Nothing was jumping out at her, and the panic building inside her chest was starting to overwhelm.

She dragged herself over to her couch, easing herself down into it. The room was starting to spin again.

She lay there a few minutes, eyes closed, mentally chastising herself.

"Time to face the music, Detective Dumbass."

Opening her eyes, Jane was about to sit up, when her eyes fell upon something unexpected. A shoe peaking out from under her coffee table. A women's shoe. A shoe that was not hers.

Shaky hands reached forward pulling it out from under the table. Feminine, delicate and ridiculously expensive. It was most definitely Maura's.

Relief flooded the extremely hung-over woman. She stumbled back to her bedroom, flinging the door open.

The relief so overwhelming, the fact that she'd been naked when she woke had completely slipped her mind.

Jane crawled back into her bed. Straightening the covers a bit to get comfortable, familiar honey blonde hair revealing itself.

That wonderful relieved feeling flooded her again, and she snuggled up against her best friend.

"You awake, Maur?"

Jane got a groan in response. She laughed lightly.

Arm atop the blankets covering Maura, Jane gave her friend a gentle squeeze.

"Wha-" The newly wakened woman cleared her throat. Then attempted to speak again. "What happened? I can't remember a thing."

Jane snickered. Her breath tickling the back of her friends neck. "Hell if I know, Maur. But you have no idea how relieved I am that you're here!"

She squeezed Maura tight. Pressing a little closer. A contented sigh escaping both women's lips.

Then Maura froze.

"Jane?"

"Yeah, Maur?"

"Why am I naked?"

"…"