Author's note: thank you very much for all the reviews (and sorry for the frustration that comes within the story).

December, 11th:

I am a jealous person. I can't help it. The problem here is that Maura is just a friend. We are not in a relationship, I have no right to react the way I do at times with her.

It isn't fair and she must think that I am childish by then.

I should keep in mind that my behavior could weigh a lot on our relation. On our friendship. Maybe one day, she will get tired of my attitude and will leave me. I will be the one to blame. I have always been. And it will be too late. I will find myself alone with regrets and an anger towards myself that I would have a hard time to properly control.

Living without Maura... I don't even want to think about that.

I got flowers as well. The same bouquet, red roses. And a mysterious message asking me to make it to Faneuil Hall on Christmas Eve at 6pm.

Is it a mere coincidence? It doesn't make sense.Perhaps I am analyzing the whole thing way too much and I am starting to build scenarios in my head that have nothing to do with reality.

I didn't ask Maura about her own bouquet and since she didn't tell me about it by herself, I have decided to remain quiet. It hurts to say this but it is none of my business. She has her life – without me – and I have to accept it.

The message wasn't signed. Thankfully, the roses got delivered at my place and not at the BPD. My colleagues would have had a blast about it. Working in a male environment is quite a challenge to not say something else. So if I can keep mysterious strangers' flowers at bay from my office, it is a perfect thing.

Meet me at Faneuil Hall on Christmas Eve

At 6

It didn't soothe my jealousy towards Maura's bouquet. It can't come from the same person. It would not make sense at all. Hers probably comes from an acquaintance if not just an ex.

Needless to say nobody from my past tries to ever reach me again.

Nobody lures at me. Maura always has some guy flirting with her, she attracts them without even noticing it. I remain in the shadows when by her side. She is the light, the brightest one.

It is her smile, her slight awkwardness when socializing. I look awfully insipid, utterly normal and boring while she brings something special.

She hasn't been happy in love but I guess it is only because she doesn't know how to make the right choice. She has an endless list of possibilities. She simply doesn't know it. I only have a couple of hopeless guys with impossible situations from which I will leave in pain; weakened.

That's why I know that she will find someone. Sadly.

7pm

"Can you raise your arm?"

Wincing in pain, Jane tried but renounced rather quickly. She sighed – annoyed – and rolled a pair of very dark eyes at Maura.

"I know what you're gonna say but it's a no-go. I won't have x-rays. The shelf fell down on me and I feel sore but tomorrow's another day. Anyway, it can hardly get worse."

It wasn't true but she didn't feel like going to the hospital. Not for a bruised shoulder. Sitting on her friend's couch, she focused on the flames that were dancing in the fireplace and pursed her lips.

"Fine..." Maura took a deep breath, nodded. "Then you will at least take a hot bath and I will try to soothe the pain with a massage. I am going to prepare it all. You can relax here in the meantime."

Without waiting for a reply – a complain, better said – the medical examiner stood up and rushed to the stairs that led to the first floor of her house. She had heard about the accident earlier in the day – in the middle of the afternoon – but a car crash had kept her busy at the morgue. She had had to go and wait to be back home to see Jane pass the door, her face distorted by pain.

Guilt. Maura had felt guilt for not having taken a break between two autopsies to check – a couple of floors above – how the brunette was doing.

Things had drastically sped up since their evening at the opera house. Work had kept her very busy, to the point that she had barely cast a glance at the mysterious bouquet of red roses on her desk nor taken the time to analyze the mysterious message on the card.

At first, she had hoped that it came – ridiculously enough – from Jane; a spontaneous act to thank her for the opera but as she had read the missive, Maura's hopes had melted.

Nobody had signed it. It was weird.

"Jane? Come upstairs!"

Maura was busy checking the essential oils she would use when the detective timidly stepped in and cast a glance at the bathroom.

"You don't have to do this, you know."

Jane took her shoes off and walked to the edge of the tub to sit on it, looking at the water filling the delicate porcelain. She let her fingers brush the hot water. It was all she needed, though. A relaxing bath. She only owned a shower at her place. But asking her friend to use her tub from time to time seemed a bit too strange.

"You put a giantic amount of soap. Of bubble soap, I mean..."

Maura blushed and looked down. It was the only subterfuge she had found to remain in the same room as her friend while she would be naked, lying in her bath. Jane was prude when it came to nudity. The honey blonde wanted her to feel at ease.

"You can go in. I leave you alone and will be back in five minutes or so."

Jane nodded and waited for the door to be closed to get undressed. She rushed into the water – her teeth clenched to repress a scream as she almost scolded herself – and tried to dive as deeply as she could in the bath.

The situation seemed incongruous, a brain new torture session for her. The worst of all was that Maura was only trying to help. How could she know about the rest?

A knock on the door made the Italian jump of surprise.

"May I come in now?"

...

7.30pm

Focused on the damp shoulder – trying to ignore the tempting nape – Maura swallowed hard and shifted her position on the cushions she had put on the floor. Why had she suggested this? Had she lost her mind? Giving a massage to Jane while she was having a bath went beyond cruelty. As a matter of fact, she almost felt like crying.

"You're very quiet..." Jane's nervous laugh rose in the air only to fall flat again. Staring straight in front of her, she made abstraction of the whirl of feelings stirred up by Maura's fingers on her hot and wet skin.

"I just want you to relax so I suppose that it is not the best time for me to annoy you with my stories you find so pointless."

Jane tilted her head on a side and pouted.

She wasn't – indeed – in the mood for any fun fact. It would cost her too much of her concentration when she already put the majority of her efforts in the idea of not turning around to capture a bit too passionately her friend's lips. The massage was awfully arousing.

The context – a bubble bath, a dimmed light – was the perfect dream for that, sadly.

"I've been thinking about Tristan and Isolde."

Jane's confession made Maura freeze. She hadn't expected that. The opera had definitely moved her friend but she wouldn't have imagined that two days later, it would still haunt her mind.

"How?" She closed her eyes as her fingertips brushed Jane's shoulder, following their curves and nourishing themselves of the Italian's hot skin.

"Do you think that love always triumphes and if so – while fighting against society – takes us to the most terrible decision? To death...? Do you think that the triumph of love lies in death and thus in a tragedy?"

"I wish..."

Jane turned around – barely caring about covering her chest with the bubbles – and frowned at her friend; worried. She shook her head.

"You wish it brought us to death? Really? Isn't that pessimistic? Awfully... Negative?"

Maura opened her mouth to reply but found herself rather speechless. Her latest remark had come up by itself. She hadn't thought about it, hadn't controlled the words. Surprised by Jane's sudden – spontaneous – movement in the tub that forced her into a face-to-face she wasn't ready for, she just shrugged then looked aside.

"I guess... I guess that the most important is honesty. Isn't it better to live the happiest story ever – even if it only lasts two hours – than the most painful, endless relationship? Tristan and Isolde are brave and honest about their feelings. The end is tragic for us who look at it from the outside but not for them. They remain together for the eternity. That is all they wanted."

Jane squinted her eyes at Maura and pondered the idea. Slowly, her gaze fell down to the scientist's lips. The pale light of the room and the steam made them glimmer. They were so close, tempting.

"Maybe..." Her murmur barely hit the air as she bent over just an inch before taking her distance again as reality set off an alarm in her head.

She turned around again - cleared her voice – and took a deep breath; trying to ignore what she had almost done. Maura resumed the massage in silence, swallowing back her very own honesty over her feelings.