A/N: I think a Xena quote may have found its way in here...

The next night, Maura woke up with the unusual sensation of Jane half-lying on top of her. If they were feeling particularly cuddlesome, Maura was always the one who lay over Jane, one leg wrapped around both of Jane's and her head cradled against Jane's shoulder. Jane would curl an arm around her, completing the picture. To have it reversed was a foreign feeling, although not an altogether bad one. There was something sweet about it, in fact.

What was startling was the sound of nature outside. It hadn't rained much in all the time Maura had been in Arizona, and when it had, it'd been very sparse indeed. This sounded like a maelstrom out of a story by Hans Christian Andersen: the wind raged and howled like a living creature, beating against the widow like a canon. A canon, and the rain—maybe even hail?—thundering down like a barrage of bullets. Maura couldn't fight a shiver, suddenly feeling wide awake, and Jane (still sleeping) tightened her grip.

The wind was stronger than Maura had even guessed—a branch was banged against the window, and the nearest tree was several yards away from the house.

Jane woke with a start, tensing on instinct. One knee rammed into Maura's side, and with a startled expression, Jane tried to sit up. But she felt too weak. Her limbs were trembling, and it was all she could do to keep herself propped above Maura. Eyes searched each other out in the dark.

Maura reached upwards, cupping Jane's cheek. Jane took Maura's hand at the wrist, moving it to her lips so she could kiss the palm. She was breathing deeply, like she'd just run a great distance. Then she dipped her head, Maura assumed for a kiss, but Jane went further, resting the side of her head on Maura's chest. This way, the sound of her heartbeat drowned out the noise of the storm. Maura realized Jane's fingers were resting at the pulse point on her neck, while the ones on her other hand still clasped Maura's wrist.

Jane felt as much as heard it when Maura said her name. She leaned upwards again, lying on her side as close to Maura as possible, one arm draped around her.

"Does the real world get into our dreams?" she whispered.

"I don't know," Maura admitted. "The study of dreams isn't an exact science. Why do you ask?"

With a heavy sigh, Jane let her body relax. "All that noise outside? It got into my head, into my nightmare, I think," she said. "I dreamed we were in Colt City, caught in a crossfire. And all I could think was that I had to find you. When I finally did, you were tryin' to cover this kid, this little boy. I was bleedin' out, but I couldn't leave ya. I couldn't. Not when…"

Maura gulped, taking strong hold of Jane's arm. She put it together: Jane had been lying over her like that because in the dream, it had translated to physically protecting her from harm.

"You scared?" Jane asked. "About tomorrow? Or—later today, I guess I should say?"

Maura nodded, but Jane couldn't make it out in the dark. "Yes."

"I reckon you'd be crazy not to be. Maura…if you don't wanna go, I'll understand. We all will. Hell, I'd feel a lot better if you stayed back. Not that I don't think you could take care of yourself if needs be, 'cause I know ya could—I mean, you went with me to help catch Hoyt, but …I really feel like you're needlessly endangering yourself here."

"It's not needless," Maura insisted. "For my sanity's sake if nothing else, Jane, I need to be on hand when all this happens. I'm not leaving you. End of discussion."

Jane smiled weakly. "Bossy."

"My logic is fearsome, renowned from the East coast to the West," Maura joked in a low voice. She smiled at Jane's weary chuckle, but sobered up fast. "We both know I'm not in any real danger, Jane. Riley's the one taking the actual risk."

Jane had to grant her that one. It was a scenario she and Korsak had gone over with Riley several times: no matter how prim Colt City seemed, there was still a chance somebody might try to take her out. Riley accepted this, explaining that she'd already suited up as Jake Wyatt, risking it all for some money. At least this time, she'd be on the right side of the law.

When Jane shifted to get up, Maura asked where she was going.

"Cellar," Jane gruffly replied. "I don't wanna keep you up—I ain't gonna be able to fall back to sleep now, Maura. Not with this storm goin' on top of everything else."

Maura tugged on the sleeve of Jane's undershirt. "Try," she choked out. "Please, Jane, try. I don't want you to be alone tonight."

"Why," Jane snorted. "Afraid I'll do something crazy?"

"You know that isn't it," Maura chastised her. She went for the only tactic she knew Jane couldn't refuse: "I don't want to be alone tonight. Please." That did it. They were facing each other, lying on their sides; Maura hooked her leg over Jane's waist, and Jane's hand rested at her thigh. "Kiss me, Jane. Kiss me as if…" Emotion halted her speech, backing up the words in her throat. As if it were the last time. Too grim. Not a helpful prospect. "As if it were the first time."

Jane's eyes had adjusted somewhat to the dark. It had been a while, she realized, since they had made love slowly. Lately they had fallen into a pattern of moving fast, frenzied, as if still making up for wasted time. Some nights they might go several rounds, interspersing the quick and the needy—desperate—with something a little more relaxed …but not quite slowly. There was still always that feeling that they were just building up to really get going, a high-strung excitement between them as they geared up for a new position or maneuver.

Jane realized she missed taking her time.

She knew what Maura had been thinking of saying at first, and knew why she changed it. Jane had been on dangerous assignments before, but there was something very different about this. It was bigger than any deputy job. If things went smoothly, it would be the end of a very long and important chapter of Jane's life. If they didn't...

No more taking things—time, people, strength, stamina—for granted. Least of all Maura.

Say her name as if it were the first time. Look at her as if it was the first time. Touch her, comfort her, kiss her as if it was the first time. Everything new. Everything just as incredible as it's always been, only maybe you've forgotten it a bit. Make sure she knows for certain everything you feel for her.

Just in case you never get another chance.

"Maura Dorothea Isles." There was so much she wanted to say, books' worth, plays' worth, epic poems—but seeing Maura's breath catch beneath her took them all away and it didn't matter. "I love you."

Maura returned the words, but her voice was so quiet that it was lost in the sound of the tempest raging outside. But Jane saw her lips move, and knew the sentiment was being reflected. She traced her fingers in a straight line across Maura's cheek, brushing the freckles she knew were there. After a moment's deliberation, she settled herself between Maura's legs, lying on top of her. Every part of her felt perfect.

She thought of all the lackluster first kisses she'd ever had before Maura. All the awkward, obligatory movements. All the attempts to make it right, to have it feel good for either of them. To make it be something she liked, but she never quite did. There were worse things, to be sure, but it wasn't ever what she hoped. Not until she had kissed Maura for the first time.

Jane did not memorize passages from books or presidential speeches. Everything is based on memory, on feeling. She could remember every instant of that first kiss as well as Maura might be able to recall a medical procedure or a piece of music. How to emulate that feeling without making it a precise copy? Well, she wryly supposed, being in bed together was probably a good start.

Maura already felt weak from nerves, and it didn't help much when Jane brushed her thumb across her lips. Her first instinct was to draw it into her mouth, but Jane had already moved it before Maura could do much about it. The doctor wasn't about to complain, though; Jane leaned down and sucked briefly on her upper lip, then the bottom. She pulled away and Maura's mouth fell open slightly, breathless, as Jane's hovered over hers. Jane waited, she didn't know what for—permission? A move? Nothing. She swept her tongue into Maura's mouth, rolling her hips forward at the same time. And there was that sound Maura made, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, her arms coming up to wrap around Jane's strong back.

Maura's fingers pressed hard, shifting down Jane's body before they came to rest at her hips, tugging her undershirt out from where it had been tucked into striped pyjama pants. Once the material was freed, Maura moved her hands under the shirt, gripping Jane's bare skin. She could feel the scars. Whether they'd been gotten from falling off a horse or getting in a scuffle, she wasn't sure; she wasn't even sure where some ended and others started. They were there, they were a part of Jane.

The wind rattled the windows, and Maura was startled. Jane propped herself up, waiting to make sure Maura was all right to start again.

"Jane…"

"Cara mia?"

"It's only just occurred to me…" She traced the curve of Jane's jaw, then her fingers curled around Jane's neck, threading themselves through thick dark hair. "I don't know if I've ever told you just how beautiful I think you are."

Jane ducked her head, almost laughing. "Sure you have, Maura."

"Not often enough."

"You don't have to say it often. Especially since you came into my life, I don't feel like that word quite fits my looks."

But Maura was shaking her head, stroking her thumb against Jane's cheek. "Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."

"Was that Shakespeare?"

Maura beamed. "Very good!" And Jane looked proud of being able to guess the reference. "You are exquisite, Jane. In every way."

"I felt like damaged goods," Jane whispered, and Maura's smile slipped away. But her hands continued to move, now stroking down Jane's arms, over her hands, lightly massaging the knuckles and the veins she can feel. Jane continued with a shuddering breath: "Damaged goods. I never thought I'd be good for anybody."

"And now you know that isn't so," Maura said back, reaching up and pulling Jane down on top of her. She kissed her cheek once, twice. "You know it, Jane, you do."

"I do," she said, returning the kiss. "The only reason I do any good at all in this world is because I do it with you."

It was time to go, and Maura was nowhere in sight.

Riley was already en route to Colt City. Maura and Korsak were to leave together, then Jane and Frost would follow later. Frankie was very put out about being left behind, assuaged only when Korsak promised he would be allowed to come the next time a group of them went out of town. Jane and Frost were waiting with Korsak, each continually checking their time pieces, wondering what was keeping Maura.

Jane had just checked her pocket watch for the third time when Frost nudged her. She slipped the watch (once Desmond Isles') into her top vest pocket and looked on as Wind Whistler came whistling down the road with her master on top. Maura's hair was not pinned up, and she appeared flushed as she dismounted her horse. Korsak started the process of attaching the horse to his carriage, and before Jane could tell Maura off for being late, she pulled her inside the Sheriff's office.

"Where's Frankie?"

"Guardin' the cells outside until Grant gets here. Maura, what's—?"

"I was afraid these wouldn't be done in time, but they are!" Maura said, opening a bag Jane had only just noticed slung over her shoulder. She pulled out two long, then sheets of what appeared to be banged-out metal.

"I…give up," Jane said, rubbing her neck and shrugging. "What are they?"

"When I was at the general supply store in Green Forge last week, I passed Giovanni's shop," she said, and Jane couldn't help rolling her eyes at the mention of the black-smith. "It seems his father widened the family business to include iron working. As it is, there was a heap of scrapped furnaces on the side of the road by their shop, and I had a thought."

"You? You had a thought? Imagine that!"

Maura gave Jane a withering stare as Jane doubtfully flipped over the metal. "Is now really the time for sarcasm, dear? I thought these could help you."

"Help me what, beat someone over the head?" Jane asked, miming the action.

"No," Maura said. "You could wear them. Like armor."

Jane stopped swinging them around and stared at Maura. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I am."

"C'mon, honey," Jane chuckled, trying to hand them back to her. "Jake Wyatt ain't ever worn armor."

"Now that he's married, he will." Maura tried to make her tone a little more patient as Jane sighed and studied the scrap material. "You wouldn't have to wear them over your clothes. You'll be wearing layers, won't you? So put these underneath them all. Just think of them as another vest—they're even padded, look! Wasn't that a nice touch?" Noting Jane's continued look of distaste, Maura said, "What would it hurt, Jane? Your pride? That's an injury I'm willing to accept here if wearing these could lessen the blow of a bullet and certainly a knife."

Her tone indicated zero tolerance for nonsense, and Jane knew they were already running late. Now she saw the two holes that had been punched in each plate near the shoulders, presumably for a thin rope to be run through. No doubt Maura thought that covered everything. She probably hadn't considered the way this would feel once Jane was running, or riding a horse, or falling off of one. But there wasn't time to argue the issue—and besides, Jane knew Maura wouldn't leave without getting an agreeable response.

"Okay, I'll promise to try it," Jane said quietly, and Maura's countenance brightened. "Although Riley's the one who'd be more likely to need it. I know how to take care of myself."

"Of course you do," Maura said, putting her hand on Jane's cheek. "That's why you listen to me."

She leaned up for a kiss, which Jane was quick to return. Neither of them listened when Korsak pushed through the swinging doors saying, "Dr. Isles, we've gotta—" And neither of them paid any mind when Korsak promptly turned on his heel to go back out the doors, saying in the same breath, "Okay, you're still sayin' goodbye, never mind."

A few moments later, Maura broke off the kiss, but kept both her hands on Jane's shoulders. "Be safe, Jane. Don't do anything reckless."

"Hey, I'll be fine," Jane said. "You're the one who'll have to sit through a drink with Dr. Pike. Hell, I'm gettin' off easy here." She smiled at the laughter this had elicited, and ran a shaky hand through Maura's hair. "Got some pins for this on ya?"

"Yes."

"Good. Um… hey, relax, sweetheart. You'll be gettin' a real show today."

"We aren't going to the show," Maura said, looking puzzled.

Jane furrowed her brow. "What?"

"What?"

"I… what show are you talkin' about?"

"The Wild West Show," Maura said. "Didn't Frost tell you? Apparently there's going to be one going on in Mesa today. We'll be passing it. In fact, I think it's the same troupe that was playing in Boston while we were there. Isn't it funny, a show like that passing through here?"

Jane shrugged. "Not so unusual. Lotsa people, even out here, like bein' able to see marksmen fight off Indians and the like from the safety of some box seats. Hm… same troupe, huh?" She smiled devilishly, folding her hands behind Maura's waist. "Was that the one with that female sharpshooter whose picture we saw, then? Vivacious vixen… Valerie?"

"You cad," Maura scoffed, giving Jane's chest a light push. "I can't believe you remember what they called her!"

"Hey, it ain't my fault they use such catchy advertising!" Jane laughed. Maura frowned when they heard Korsak ask Frost very loudly for the time. "You'd better get goin'," Jane said, patting the small of Maura's back and nudging her towards the door. "I'll see you soon, darlin'. Arrevederci."

Maura blew her a kiss at the door. "Aur revoir, mon amour." She waved Frost to go inside the office as she left, and Korsak assisted her into the carriage. Off they went, and once they were outside of town, Maura began putting her hair up. "I apologize for taking so long, Sheriff. I wanted to ensure Jane … understood something I was giving her."

To Korsak it had looked mutual and like Jane had understood it quite well, but he refrained from making a comment. He guessed that Maura was feeling a little uneasy about the mission. "All right, but don't sweat today, Doc. Jane'll be fine. She'll be in good form, I'm sure. As it happens, I'm curious what it'll be like. I ain't ever seen Jane as Jake Wyatt."

"Yes you have. When we caught Riley the first time, remember? We went to Wohaw Springs."

"Yeah, but that don't count," Korsak said, waving his hand dismissively. "We didn't get to see her first confront Riley, and Wohaw's a Jake-friendly spot. Plus, she left us behind when she went past the town border. I ain't ever really seen her in action, y'know?"

"You sound more excited than I would have guessed, considering your hesitancy to allow this plan in the first place."

"I admit my interest is a touch wicked," Korsak chuckled. "I can't wait to see Pike piss himself in fright when Jake Wyatt walks in. He scared Jane for so long …I think it'll be good for her to have a chance to repay the favor. Don't worry, Dr. Isles. I've got faith in my deputies to pull through on this one."

Well, so do I. It's everyone else I'm anxious about.

"Remember, Maura: just go along with whatever Jane lays out. And don't feel bad telling off Pike if you think he gets outta line."

As it transpired, Pike wore his welcome early. Maura could take the smugness well enough, unattractive a quality as it was. So far as he knew, her reason for being there was to better back up Korsak's claim that they needed another doctor in Hollow Creek. Korsak did most of the talking, knowing of Maura's chronic inability to lie, and that seemed fine with Pike. He only occasionally glanced in Maura's direction, watching her nod, fake a smile, or take a sip of sarsaparilla. Of course he was dragging it out, wanting to make Korsak beg for his return. Especially wanting the pretty female doctor to tell him she desperately needed his help.

There went another drink.

Frost was inside the saloon, with the understanding that no drinks would be sold to him. Common enough. He was standing by the door, waiting for Riley to make an entrance, and idly thinking about Anna as the time passed. He had never gotten around to telling her the exact nature of this mission, wary of the conversation that would inevitably follow and how much time it would take. All she knew was that he was doing his job as a deputy, which was technically true. No doubt she'd have come along if he hadn't intimated that they were going very far away. He'd been impressed with how strong she had grown to be.

Thoughts of his wife were jarred away when Rondo came running through the doors. Nobody paid him any mind, but that was fine with him: once he caught Frost's eye, he hurried over and said in a hushed voice, "I just saw your man, Snow. Comin' this way."

"Who's that?" Frost asked, a little louder.

"The man! Jake Wyatt!"

Half the saloon went silent, and after a rushed flurry of whispers, the other did as well. But then chatter broke out among the tables, various people saying they'd heard rumors that Jake was in these parts, others already making an exit.

"If that rogue's on his way here, perhaps you'd best leave," Dr. Pike said to Maura. "I'll escort you off the premises, dear."

"Oh, but Jake Wyatt!" Maura said. "He's supposed to be terribly handsome, isn't he? I'd love the chance for one look at him!"

"The female mind and its priorities," Pike grumbled to Korsak, who nodded solemnly. "My dear girl, that look may be your last if you stick around."

A man sitting nearby threw in his two cents before Maura could reply: "I wouldn't worry about that, mister. Jake Wyatt don't hurt ladies. Hell, he don't hardly even look at 'em."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Korsak asked, noting the snide tone in the man's voice.

He smirked. "The way I hear it, he's turned down more women than he's picked up. Now what kind of man is that, I ask ya?"

"A gentleman." The saloon doors were kicked open, and Riley strutted in, dressed to the hilt as Jake Wyatt. That is, a more genteel version of Jake Wyatt: her attire consisted of black-and-silver pinstripes, a pattern found on her vest, jacket, and trousers. Beneath the vest was a new crimson shirt, the sleeves rolled up as she removed her jacket and slung it over one shoulder. There were no spurs on her boots, which were shining black and fell hard with each step as she leaned against the bar. Her fake mustache of choice was a little more curled at the ends than the one Jane wore. Attention was coming her way again: the frightened or impressed looks on the men, and the frightened or infatuated looks on the ladies. Both made her feel a bit queasy, but to look at her smug expression, you'd never know it.

The bartender dropped a glass. Riley tipped her hat at him.

"What brung you to town?" one patron finally asked.

"Wild West show in Mesa," Riley said, walking over to the man's table. His friends look petrified. "Mighty fine show. Thought I'd take a look around at the nearby towns. See if anyone here would make for a good fight …in a poker game."

"You wanna play poker?" asked the man who'd spoken.

Riley shrugged. "You feel lucky?"

And she sat down to start a game before the bartender could point out that gambling was not allowed in this particular establishment. Not that he would have made himself heard.

Jane, meanwhile, was waiting on the roof of the building next door. Lying on her stomach, she could survey what went on below without being seen herself. She chuckled as she watched a substantial number of patrons trickle out of the Silver Spur, no doubt intimidated by Jake's very presence. After a while, she checked her pocket-watch. There was about two hours or so left of daylight.

Show time.