The sound of "something" hitting the hard surface of the coffee table jolts Maura from her attempt at reading the latest issue of Journal of Sexual Medicine. She glances over to confirm that it was the remote that hit her table, and the only likely culprit sitting beside her is Jane, frowning. Following her best friend's gaze, Maura notes the object of Jane's frustration to be the TV.

"Is something wrong, Jane?"

She shrugs in reply and says, "This movie is bull—"

Feeling Maura's pointed gaze, Jane backtracks immediately, "—crap."

"Do I dare ask, why?" Maura asks to clarify but her attention is already split between her best friend and her journal.

"There are quite a number of things I'd point out, Maur. But let's start with the characters' lousy decision-making skills." Jane scoffs.

The tone of her voice is what fully pulls the doctor from her reading material.

Finally gathering that until Jane has satisfied her need to go over the credibility of the movie—or lack thereof—she wouldn't be able to read in peace. And so Maura acquiesces. She shifts a bit to her right to face her friend directly.

"How so?"

"Okay, so you have these two lead characters: man meets woman, they seem to have decent chemistry, and they develop a degree of interest in one another. Then, this guy's job starts to get in the way of their relationship. The conflict lies in the part wherein the guy 'dies', but apparently he was just faking it. Was I surprised? No. Because the dude goes and compromises his job by telling his lady love about it before he supposedly dies."

Maura turns to the TV, but the film was long done by then.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I quite understand the problem there, Jane."

The homicide detective rolls her eyes. "He was under strict orders to keep his mouth shut. It was a sensitive case. But he goes on and puts months of hard work at risk by telling some woman he met like a few weeks in about everything."

"Well if he trusts her—" Maura tries to appease Jane, but obviously to no avail as she cuts right in.

"Sure, Maur. Trust her? Fine. But see, if this were to happen to me—"

This time, it is the Chief ME who cuts in with a question and a deep crease between her brows as her brilliant mind leaps much further along, "—if it were you, Jane, are you saying that you would allow your mother to go on thinking you were dead when you actually aren't? You'd allow Frankie and Sergeant Korsak to think that you may have died in the line of fire? For a case? For your job?"

Jane is partially taken aback by the question, as well as the sudden turnaround of the conversation.

"Well, Frankie and Korsak would understand—"

"And your mother? Tommy? TJ?" Maura cuts in again and Jane finally realizes that the blonde is somewhat agitated—or at least starting to look the part.

"Hold on, Maura—"

"And me? Are you telling me that you'd allow a case to take precedence over letting me know that you aren't actually gone?!"

Towards the last few words, Maura's voice had risen in pitch.

Jane remained quiet, both women staring at each other.

One with tears in her eyes and surprise in her heart at the overwhelming feeling she did not expect to wrap around her chest. Squeezing, suffocating, at the mere thought of having to think that her Jane would one day just cease to be there.

The other, silent and contemplative, is taken aback at the anger and frustration that has taken over her best friend: worried at its implication.

-x-x-x-x-

Four months later, Maura buried Jane. On what was supposedly a routine investigation of a crime of passion, a person of interest got too paranoid and started shooting blindly. One grazed Frankie in the leg, three struck between the wall and the front door, one barely missing Jane…but the last one…

The last one caught Jane straight through the heart.

Maura didn't even get to say goodbye.

She walked away from the cemetery in a daze, barely taking notice of the people who were present, of the people who came up to her to offer their condolences.

When she ended up at the fallen detective's apartment, Maura collapsed onto Jane's bed. Numb.

When she finally woke up, she saw the TV remote on the pillow beside her, a note pinned beneath it.

"I'm here."