Thanksgiving day of 1884 was a landmark occasion in the lives of Jane Rizzoli and Maura Isles, marking a first and last for both of them: it was the first time in Jane's adult life that she had allowed herself to be seen in public in a dress, and for many reasons, she decided that no matter how much Angela begged or Adelaide encouraged, neither would ever talk her into doing it again. Meanwhile, Stanley's party became the first place Maura ever got what the Rizzoli boys might have referred to as "piss-ass drunk," and again for a sundry bunch of reasons, it was the last time such an incident ever came even close to occurring.

Usually the more upper-crust women of Hollow Creek would have turned up their noses at the thought of alcohol being served at a public family party, but as it was a holiday (and celebrated the departure of someone they considered to be one of the town's more regrettable elements), they decided to allow it. Besides, if Calamity Jane Rizzoli was going to this function in a dress, they could stand to make an exception as well.

The party started off well enough. Garrett and Maura had arrived exactly on time, as Garrett was a steadfast believer in precise punctuality, and furthermore, he said he was curious to get a good luck at the interior of Stanley's place before it got too crowded. As he and some of the other gentlemen strolled about discussing the architecture and how much it would have cost to insure, Maura found herself surrounded by several of the child patients she had treated. Children loved Dr. Isles for her patience, her sweetness, and her ability to comfort them before even the most minor of operations.

Adelaide arrived shortly thereafter with her son and his small family, and she quickly made introductions.

"Maura, wait until you see what Angela and I did to Jane!" Adelaide cackled. Angela was already there as well, helping to set out food. "She is transformed! I wouldn't be surprised if you failed to recognize her."

That could have very much been a possibility if Maura hadn't already seen Jane that day with her hair and skin nicely cleaned. Nonetheless she appreciated the truth in Adelaide's assertion, and was far from being the only one who took notice when the Rizzoli siblings walked into Stanley's tavern twenty minutes later.

Jane was flanked by her brothers, both of whom were dressed in their Sunday best: pinstriped trousers and vests (Tommy in black, Frankie in brown), with newly pressed, round-collared white shirts. After many lengthy lessons from Angela, Frankie had finally learned how to properly do a cross-tie around his neck, but Tommy had given up and left his collar bare.

They attracted plenty of attention and rightfully so, but Maura had eyes only for their sister. She reasoned to herself that this was because she already had quite a dapper fiancé on her arm who would frown upon her ogling other men—so really her only option was to be blown away by what Adelaide had very rightly described as Jane's transformation.

Jane's dark eyes stood out thanks to the faux eyeliner she had again applied. Her midnight black hair had been slicked down on top, bunched into elegant curls just below the nape of her neck—around which was wrapped a white silk neckerchief Adelaide had intended to give to her daughter-in-law but believed suited Jane better. Jane's scarred palms and much-weathered forearms were covered by black satin elbow-length gloves, which she had to admit she liked quite a bit. At least, she liked them more than the black brocade belt Angela had attacked her with at the last minute.

The dress itself was fashioned from a dark red taffeta which—though it was quite modest—would have been considered scandalous for an unmarried woman to wear in decent society based solely on the boldness of its color. Fortunately, Hollow Creek was ahead of the curve and found no problem with the audacious hue of Jane's dress. The sleeves weren't very long, and to protect the uncovered parts of her arms from the cold breeze on the walk over, Angela had insisted Jane wear some type of shawl. It so happened that Adelaide had a black wool capelet that fit Jane very well, tied at the front with a black silk bow that Jane was currently attempting to undo.

One of her brothers might have helped her with the endeavor, but after walking inside, they had both instantly parted to engage in some company with women who weren't their sister. Adelaide looked on in pity as she watched Jane struggle with the simple bow, and was about to go help when she noticed Maura approaching Jane, moving as if she were floating. Hm. Perhaps this one ought to be left to the doctor.

Seeing Maura walk towards her, Jane could feel heat rising to her cheeks—it was humiliating enough to be caught unable to do something as basic as untying a bow, but even more awkward when someone like Maura was the one witnessing it. Jane attributed her blush and her quickened heartbeat to this embarrassment, not even allowing the idea to pass through her mind that it might have to do with the fact that Maura somehow looked more gorgeous than usual. The dark green of her dress brought out that color in her eyes, accenting their mischievousness. A simple black ribbon was tied around her neck, forming a makeshift choker which Jane thought looked incredible but very uncomfortable.

"Hey there," she said breathlessly once Maura was within hearing distance.

"Jane, you look beautiful," Maura gushed. "Absolutely stunning!"

"Oh—uh—do I?" Jane chuckled nervously, dropping her hands to her sides. "I don't, uh… you look uh—amazing. Well, I mean, you always do, though. You're beautiful. I just clean up nice sometimes, I guess."

"You clean up very nicely," Maura said, bringing her white-lace gloved hands to the silk bow of Jane's capelet. "This is gorgeous. Where did you get it?"

It took Jane a moment to answer. The visual of Maura untying something for her brought up too many memories of women in this position when Jane was in disguise as Jake—the too-helpful maids, the eager waitresses, drunk showgirls, all keen to help Jake Wyatt off with his coat or his tie or anything they could get their hands on. She fought to bring her head back in enough time to say, "Uh—Adelaide. Adelaide gave it to me. Or leant it to me, anyway. She'll want it back."

"I may have to buy it from her," Maura said with a wide smile, taking the garment off Jane's shoulders and hanging it on a peg by the door.

"Yeah, it'd look better on you," Jane murmured, wishing she had pockets to stuff her hands into.

"Oh Jane, you flatter me. Come sit with us!"

"Us?"

"With me and Garrett, yes. Well, at the moment he's still surveying the tavern, but he'll be back soon, and dinner ought to be done by then."

She hooked her arm through Jane's and started walking her in the direction of her table. Jane stumbled at first, and not just because she was in heeled boots. This was a very friendly move for Maura to have made, and the heat that had just started seeping out of Jane's cheeks came back with a vengeance at this close contact. Jane felt stiff as they walked, not knowing what to do with the arm Maura had grabbed, and she wound up sort of holding it flat against her stomach. Maura was surprised she hadn't done this with Jane before, as it had been customary to link arms with her girlfriends back in Boston. She supposed it had something to do with the fact that this was by far the most feminine she had ever seen Jane—even more so than the first night of their friendship—and as such it just seemed the natural thing to do to take her arm.

In a strange way, it felt like solidifying their familiarity with each other, at least on Maura's part. For Jane, the only thing that made it seem even more abnormal was when they reached the table, before Maura slid her own arm free, she briefly grasped Jane's hand and squeezed it. Determined as Jane was to make up for her abhorrent behavior the other day, Maura was resolved to make sure Jane knew she was forgiven. This was a start.

Garrett came back a few moments later and sat on Maura's other side, professing not to have recognized Jane at first. She didn't know whether to be offended by this, but decided not to be, as Garrett would become only the first of many to bluntly state this. Angela, having left to help prepare dinner before Jane's outfit and hair had been complete, almost burst into tears when she saw Jane in all her glorious femininity. Maura could only giggle as Jane, appearing alarmed by Angela's outburst of emotion, tried in vain to get her to calm down.

"Face it, sis," Tommy sighed, coming to sit on Jane's right with a beautiful girl on his arm. He clapped a hand on her back (earning a scowl from Adelaide on the other side of the room, who could spot fabric-abuse a mile away). "Ain't nobody used to seeing you actually look like a woman."

"Shut up, Tommy," Jane muttered.

"Actually, Tommy, your sister possesses many feminine attributes that would point to her womanliness, despite her preference for masculine clothing," Maura piped up. "Perhaps you've noticed her long eyelashes? The high cheekbones? The shape of her lips?"

Tommy raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Believe it or not, I don't spend much time lookin' at Jane's mouth," he said, to the over-exaggerated amusement of the rather desperate girl on his arm.

"Well I don't—neither do I," Maura was quick to point out. "Not an inordinate amount of time, at least."

"What can you say?" Garrett laughed. "Maura's a doctor, she's bound to pick up on things like that."

"Yeah, don't be an ass, young Thomas," Jane mumbled into her glass of water.

"Young Thomas?" Maura asked with a grin as Garrett clicked his tongue at Jane's language.

"It's what the Father used to call him when he was a kid," Jane snickered, glad to have wiped the smirk off her brother's face. "You hated that, didn't you, Young Thomas?"

"Oh, I think it's cute!" Angela and Tommy's date said in unison, leaving young Thomas feeling quite conflicted and a little grossed out.

But then Angela bustled away (to speak with anyone who might know anything about the girl Tommy had picked up), leaving those still congregated at the table to begin eating in peace. They were joined by Dr. Byron and Frankie, the latter having been unable to procure a woman to come sit with him, which Tommy was quick to tease him about. Frankie shut him up with a "Quiet, Young Thomas," and Jane decided to jump in before Tommy did something rash, like dump a bowl of pumpkin tureen on his brother's head.

"You know, I think you fellas are getting a little too girl crazy," she said. "Not just you two, but everybody. You've still got life to live, you know? Still got places to go, things to do. Fellas are gettin' to be so crazy these days, they'll do just about anything to get married. A while ago, me and Frost was in Oregon, and this insane family of red-headed brothers—I think there were maybe seven of 'em—come down from the hills and just kidnap seven innocent women from the town to be their wives."

"Goodness, that is desperate!" Maura gasped. "What happened?"

Jane shrugged. "The girls married 'em! Guess they were desperate, too."

"I don't think it's so desperate," Tommy said. "Maybe they just fell in love. When you fall in love, you get married. Ain't you ever been in love, Jane? What're you now, forty?"

"That's funny, Young Thomas."

"Would you quit—"

"Say, where is Frost, anyway?" Jane asked, looking around. "He said he'd meet us here, didn't he?"

Frankie frowned. "Yeah, he did."

Jane glanced up and noticed that Stanley had been about to approach their table, only to veer away at the mention of Frost's name. Narrowing her eyes, she stood up and said, "Come on, Frankie." After a brief hesitation, he excused himself from the table and followed Jane through the throng of Thanksgiving partygoers. When they got outside, the fresh, cool air was such a relief that Jane didn't notice right away that Frost was sitting on the front porch. "Frost? What're you doin' out here? Why ain't ya inside?"

Frost looked up at her and frowned. "Lots of people in there."

"You ain't afraid of crowds, last I checked."

He shrugged, knowing it had been a weak excuse. "Stanley don't want me inside."

"Frankie?"

"I'm on it."

Frankie ducked back inside, and Frost stood up. "Jane, you don't have t—"

"I don't have to what? Frost, you ain't a slave. You ain't a crook. There ain't nothin' wrong with you, nothin' what makes you different from everyone in there but the color of your skin, and that ain't somethin' you can help. This is supposed to be a town celebration."

"This ain't my town, Jane."

"The hell it ain't! Maybe you wasn't born here, Frost, but that don't mean ya—" She cut off when Frankie re-emerged with Stanley behind him, his arm caught in the younger man's vice grip. "Stanley. You got a problem with my friend here?" Jane asked. When Stanley didn't answer right away, Jane took a threatening step closer. "I asked you a question."

Frost tried in vain to get between Stanley and Jane. "Look, Jane, don't worry about it. He don't want me in there? Fine, I don't want to go in there."

"Then what were you doing sittin' on the porch here like a puppy waitin' to be let inside?" Jane asked.

They were interrupted when their dependable Sheriff walked up just then, looking none too pleased with the goings-on. This was made evident not only by his expression but by his tone when he asked, "What the hell's goin' on here?"

"She was gonna beat me up," Stanley said. It would have been embarrassing had it been any other woman, but he knew his reputation could withstand being afraid of Calamity Jane, especially if it meant the Sheriff could get him it out of this tight spot.

"He ain't gonna let in Frost to celebrate with us," Jane said by way of explanation.

Korsak stepped up onto the porch, prying Jane's fingers away from the collar of Stanley's shirt. "Jane, you know the law. The proprietor of any given establishment is permitted to refuse service to anyone he sees fit. However," he added with a grand gesture, putting his arm around Frost, "Stanley is no longer the proprietor of this particular establishment. I am. And I say this place is good enough for our man Frost here. And that goes for Jorge as well, if he shows up. You got that, Stan?"

Grimacing at Korsak, Stanley muttered something incomprehensible and shuffled back inside. "You're the new proprietor here?" Jane asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Not quite," said Korsak. "Angela's actually the one who wanted to buy it. She's always wanted this place, but could never afford it." He shrugged. "So I thought what the hell, I've got some money saved up, and it'd be nice for Angela to have enough room for a real kitchen, so she could serve food if she wanted to."

"Korsak, you're goin' soft, you know that?" Jane laughed, as Frost shook his hand. "Of course, I reckon that means she'll expect us to help her get it up and running…"

"I certainly do," said Angela, appearing all of a sudden. She had swung the saloon doors open so wide that one of them whacked Frankie into the outer wall, but she didn't seem to notice as she stepped forward to shake Korsak's hand. "And Sheriff, I appreciate what you done a whole lot. You won't be sorry you invested, I promise!"

"I've had enough of your cooking to know that I won't be sorry," Korsak chuckled.

"And I heard what you said to Stanley about Frost. I want you to know how much I appreciate the way you handled that," she said, glaring at Jane and Frankie. "None of this violent, intimidation stuff. Just words. Very smart. Now all of you come back inside and eat before the food gets cold!"

Korsak joined Angela at one of the smaller tables, where she immediately engaged him in speculating about the girl who was still laughing way too hard at Tommy's jokes. Frost walked back with Frankie and Jane to their table, where he was greeted politely by everyone, but Garrett was the only one warm enough to stand up and shake his hand.

"We were just indulging in a little Thanksgiving discussion," Maura explained. "You know, talking about things we're grateful for, besides the founding of our beautiful country."

"Yeah, and it was my turn, until you got here," Tommy said, nodding at Jane.

"Oh, does that mean I missed what you said?" Jane asked, ignoring Tommy and looking at Maura. "Would you mind repeating it?"

"I suppose not," Maura said, privately pleased that Jane cared enough to ask. "There are a great many things I am grateful for, and it's difficult to narrow them all down. To start, I'd say how thankful I am for the industrial innovations we've come up with in the past few decades that allowed me to travel by train from Boston to Arizona with such speed. I'm thankful for the mail carriers who have taken my letters to and from Hollow Creek, and the ships that have carried mail to my mother in Europe and back to me. So of course that should also go without saying, that I'm thankful for both of my parents and for Garrett's presence in my life. I'm also grateful for the education I have received since I was a child, medical and otherwise, that has allowed me to better myself, but more importantly, help others." She realized she was rambling, but it was hard to stop when Jane was so clearly invested in what she was saying, staring and soaking up every word as she continued: "And you know, ever since I've been here, I've learned to become grateful for the beauty of nature. The skies, the trees, the water. Even animals I never paid much attention to before, like the power of a horse and its willingness to be directed by human hands. That's something to be grateful for, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Jane said softly, though the question had been rhetorical. "It sure is."

A short silence hung over the table before Tommy said, "Huh. That was a bit more in-depth than 'Mr. Fairfield, medical advancement and family,' which is what you said before."

"Yes, well, I had time to think more about it," Maura said, forcing her eyes away from Jane's and looking back down at her plate.

"Well now that Maura's recited the Gettysburg address," said Garrett, "how about you, Jane? What're you thankful for?"

"Gosh, I dunno," Jane said. "Everything. My brothers, Angela, Frost. This town, small though it may be. Thankful that Maura's willing to share that big brain of hers. And I—"

"I'm thankful for music!" Tommy loudly interrupted, as a small band had just started playing a very fast-paced number and couples were starting to head gaily out into the center of the tavern, which had been cleared for dancing. Tommy grabbed his girl's hand and rushed out, engaging her in what Jane had to admit was pretty impressive dancing.

Garrett took Maura's hand and pulled her onto the dance floor as well, not realizing that she would have preferred to stay and listen to Jane finish. She threw an apologetic look at Jane over her shoulder, and the brunette merely smiled and raised a hand to show it was all right. But as she watched Garrett and Maura dancing, laughing, smiling at each other, Jane felt pain well up in her chest again. It was because they seemed so carefree, she decided. Not a care in the world for those two. They would be married and raise beautiful, intelligent children.

There's not a future like that for me. I've missed my chance. Wasted it all. Wasted it chasing after a ghost.

She was so lost in her depressing thoughts that it took her several moments to realize Gabriel Dean was asking her to dance. If it had been anyone else, she would have felt bad using such a loud and brash tone to reject him, but considering it was Dean, she didn't really care. However, when Grant came by shortly after Dean had departed, Jane felt like she couldn't be so rude. He was the deputy, after all.

"I'm still hurtin' from that run-in I had with the other day," Jane said. "This number's a bit too vigorous, I think."

"Okay," Grant said amiably. "How about when a slower one comes up?"

"Er…all right," she squeaked.

He came back for her a few minutes later, and much though Jane had been dreading it, agreed to let him lead her in a dance. She felt bolstered a little when Maura, still dancing nearby with Garrett, caught her eye and smiled in encouragement. Grant was a smooth, very patient dancer, and was enough of a gentleman not to complain the few times Jane accidentally trod on his feet. The wound on her waist didn't bother her as much anymore, but the scar on her back could be sensitive to sudden movements.

When the song ended, Jane was prepared to go sit back down—especially as Maura was doing so—but Angela and Korsak had just joined them on the dance floor, and Angela said the only way she had convinced Korsak to dance with her was if Jane agreed to at least one more with his deputy. Jane begrudgingly agreed, as she had started to suspect that Angela was getting quite keen on the Sheriff.

About time she found someone, Jane thought to herself, not realizing that Korsak and Angela were thinking the exact same thing about her.

Jane really did beg off when this song was over. Garrett was deep in conversation with some other businessmen while Maura downed her sarsaparilla at an alarming rate. When her fiancé appeared too preoccupied to bother with his own glass of the same drink, Maura snuck his glass away from his setting and began to drink it, as well. Jane figured she was probably just thirsty from the exertion of dancing, and she realized she had never seen Maura quite like this: sweat glistened on her forehead and was starting to threaten her perfect hair, yet it did not look unattractive. In fact it was strangely becoming in its own way. Her chest heaved with her labored breathing, probably not helped by how fast she was drinking.

"Where's the fire, there, Maura?" Jane asked when the woman had set down Garrett's glass.

"I don't know, but there's Jorge!" Maura said, pointing at a very handsome fellow who was making his way towards them. "Hello!" she greeted with an enthusiastic wave when he got close enough. "Jorge, how are you feeling?"

"Very well, Dr. Isles, thank you!" he said in perfect English, with a slight bow. "I should be fine to set back on my travels whenever I wish, although I am finding myself feeling more and more drawn to your humble town." As he said this, his eyes went straight to Jane, who was surprised at her lack of annoyance towards this man. "If I may be so bold," he said, "You are by far the loveliest woman I have had the privilege of laying my eyes on tonight."

Deaf to the compliment, Jane waved her hand at Maura and said, "I don't know, have you seen Dr. Isles, here?"

Maura just laughed and gave Jane's shoulder a playful shove. "Don't be silly, Jane! Besides, Jorge knows I'm taken—and he couldn't do much better than you! Why don't you dance?"

"Would you like to?" Jorge asked, offering his arm to Jane.

With Maura waving her on, Jane took Jorge's arm and allowed herself once again to be led to the dance floor. She failed to notice Maura reaching over for her mostly-full glass of water—or what had once been water, anyway. After Jane's staunch refusal to dance with him, Dean had taken the liberty of going back to her table when she was dancing with Grant. Unnoticed by everyone, he had pulled out a flask of whiskey and prepared to pour some in her glass, intending it to loosen her up a bit and be more open to his invitation later. The only problem was that he had forgotten where she had been sitting, so he had upped his odds by pouring some of the whiskey into five glasses near the general area where he had been sure she was in. What he could not have foreseen was that Maura would taste the whiskey in her own once-innocent drink and become attracted to it at once. Never having had alcohol before, it didn't take long for her to get somewhat intoxicated.

Meanwhile, Jane was finding herself more intrigued by Jorge than she would have expected. He was genuine in his appraisal of her beauty, and as he had never seen her before, it came without smacking of condescension, like the remarks from the other men in town. When she offered to lead their second dance, he was more than happy and a little amused to let her do so, taking it in stride. They made for a clumsy pair, but Jane found herself appreciating that—he was a bit of a slouch when it came to dancing, too, and it put her at ease. She even found herself having fun. Too bad you're leaving town soon, she thought to herself as he smiled at her.

To the general surprise of anyone who had been paying attention, Jane went through four dances straight with Jorge, before she felt tired out. Her back didn't even hurt that much anymore, and she wasn't sure whether it was some sort of coping mechanism that would hurt a hell of a lot in the morning, or if it had just healed miraculously. Either way, she was distracted as soon as she and Jorge returned to the table, and Maura grabbed her arm.

"Jane," she said loud enough to be heard over the music. "I was wondering if you could help me." In a stage whisper, she added, "Nature is calling, and as it's getting quite dark outside, I'd really appreciate your help in case a rattler jumps in the path all of a sudden!"

"Ah," Jane said, aiding Maura in getting to her feet. "Would you excuse me, Jorge? We'll be right back."

Jorge stood as the women left together, grinning. Jane turned to look back at him before exiting the tavern, and in so doing, ran straight into Maura, who had stopped just outside. "Ow!" Jane groaned, rubbing the spot on her face that had been smashed into Maura's upraised hand. Why had they stopped? "I thought you needed to relieve yourself!"

"That was a ruse," Maura said, waving her hand in impatience at Jane's lack of perception. "So? What do you think of him?"

"Of who?"

"Jorge!"

"He's handsome," Jane had to admit. "But I…" The wind changed, and she got a distinct whiff of Maura's breath when the woman laughed with excitement. Maybe a little too much excitement. "Maura…?"

"What?"

"Are you…have you been drinking?"

"Of course! You saw me! I don't know what Stanley puts in his sarsaparilla, but my goodness! It is delicious! I may have had more than one glass, in fact. The strange thing is that it tasted much better after dinner. Not sure why that is. I'm sorry I drank yours, but you weren't using it! And it was so good!"

"Oh boy," Jane sighed. "Maura, I was drinking water."

"Oh. Oh! Well! Stanley's water is good, too! How unfortunate that he's moving all the way to Green Forge. We may have to go visit him from time to time for some of his water!"

"Look—Maura, stay right here, okay? Don't move. Promise?"

"I'm Maura Isles."

"I—yes, I know that."

"Maura Isles does not break promises. So no. I won't."

"You won't move?"

"Correct. I won't move from this spot until you return."

"Great. Thank you." Jane hurried back inside and right away was apprehended by Adelaide. "Oh, hey, Addie."

"Hello, Jane! Your dress seems to be holding up quite well." Before Jane could respond, Adelaide whispered, "I couldn't help noticing you escorted Dr. Isles outside. Is everything all right?"

After a quick debate about whether or not she should be honest, Jane said, "Not quite. I think somebody slipped a little hair of the dog into her drink."

"Oh dear, what a shame. Why don't you take her home?"

"Me?" Jane asked dumbly. "No, I was just gonna get Mr. Fairfield and ask him to do it."

Adelaide smacked her on the head (with her hand, as she was wearing a formal dress with no place for hiding rulers). "Don't be a fool, Jane! How do you think Garrett Fairfield would react to seeing a tipsy Maura Isles?"

"Hm…that's a good point."

"Of course it is. Besides, he's busy right now," she said, indicating Garrett and the cluster of townsmen who were asking him for financial advice. "If you like, you can take Dr. Isles home now and I will wait for an opportune moment to get Mr. Fairfield's attention. I will explain to him that Maura wasn't feeling well, and that you volunteered to take her home. No doubt he'll feel guilty about her leaving without his knowing about it, but I'll make sure to tell him something—I don't know, that she got violently ill and would be embarrassed to be seen by him."

"Thanks, Adelaide," Jane said, patting the old woman on the shoulder. "You're a trump." As soon as Jane got back outside, it was to see that Maura was sitting on one of the porch chairs, crying into a makeshift handkerchief (which Jane realized where actually the woman's gloves). "Maura! Maura, what is it? Are you all right?"

"No!" Maura sobbed, and Jane dragged another chair forward to sit close to her. "It's Thanksgiving! It's Thanksgiving and I'm not with my father, because my father is dead! He's dead, Jane! Do you know what that feels like?"

"Yes," Jane sighed, knowing that Maura already knew this but also knowing it wouldn't be prudent to remind her of that in her current state. "I know how it feels."

"It's awful!" Maura cried. "I hate it! I want to go home! I want to be with my father! I want him to be here, I don't like—I don't want—"

"Hey, hey," Jane said softly, leaning forward and pulling Maura into an embrace. "It's all right, Maura. Let it out."

"I don't w-want to let it out," Maura said, clutching Jane tightly to her. "I should be fine now, and I'm not! I don't want to cry about it, I want to be fixed!"

"There's nothin' wrong with you," Jane said in the same quiet tone, rubbing Maura's back. "You hear me? Nothing. You can cry if you want to."

"But I don't want to!" Maura insisted, pulling back and looking at Jane through puffy, red eyes. She looked thoroughly exhausted, or perhaps just drunk. Either way, she appeared too tired to wipe away her own tears. She gave it a weak effort, passing her wrist beneath one eye before falling forward into Jane's arms again.

Jane reacted without thinking, turning her head to catch a tear between her lips as it trailed down Maura's cheek. She felt Maura gasp and shudder beneath her, and the salty droplet hit Jane's tongue when she opened her mouth and pulled away, only to leave one more kiss on Maura's cheek, closer to her eye this time. Her heart was pounding a hundred miles a minute when she pulled back, surveying Maura's countenance. Tears still welled in Maura's eyes, but now her brow was furrowed in confusion, and that seemed to have overtaken her sadness.

Her gaze was fixed on Jane's mouth, and after another moment, she reached forward and traced her bare fingers across Jane's lips. Jane felt the curious sensation of her breath catching, her chest seizing up, her brain seeming to shut off, all at once. The effects lingered even when Maura withdrew her fingers after only a second or two.

"I want my tears back," she whispered. "You shouldn't have to keep them, Jane. You have enough of your own."

"So do you," was Jane's automatic response, though she knew this was one of the stranger conversations she had ever had. "We all have too many. Maura, let me take you back to the boarding house, all right?"

"Yes!" Maura chirped, all signs of sadness abruptly gone. "That is a wonderful idea! Let's go, Jane, and I can take a bath! I'm so thankful for baths—did I mention that?"

"You didn't," Jane said, standing up and helping Maura to do the same. They had only walked off the porch when Jane realized Maura might have some trouble walking herself all the way back to the boarding house. She would probably need assistance, and Jane didn't think she'd be much up for helping in her current state of dress. "Maura, would you mind if we stopped by Angela's first? It's just across the road, here. She's got some of my clothes, and I'd like to change."

"Why?" Maura asked. "You look so beautiful. Like a… like a… painting."

Jane ignored this and just led Maura to Angela's empty saloon, then up the stairs to the private room where Jane had stored her regular clothes.