Thursday

Jane hadn't been down to the basement - she'd been putting it off, knowing she had her appointment with Richard after work, and she didn't have time for a run during lunch. She headed to the precinct gym instead, surprised to see Doctor Isles at the boxing bag. She watched for a moment.

"You get sore wrists after?" Jane asked when Doctor Isles paused. She braved herself for the steely stare of the ME, still flinching when it landed on her.

"A little," Doctor Isles admitted, eyes softening a little, Jane thought, when she matched the voice to Jane's face.

"You open to some constructive criticism?" Jane asked. Doctor Isles squinted, then nodded reluctantly. "Take a half step forward and make sure your arm isn't straight when you strike. You're not distributing the impact. It's all going to your wrists." Doctor Isles nodded and stepped back a little, aimed once and adjusted again, looking up at Jane, who nodded. "Try now," Jane encouraged, and the result looked awkward.

"Nah, you gotta... C'n I just..." Jane stepped closer and held a hand over Doctor Isles' shoulder, waiting for her nod before she adjusted the angle of Maura's shoulder, surprised that her skin was so warm, surprised at the softness of her skin, the glow that Jane felt seeping into her sore palms.

"And, uh," Jane focused, feeling that gaze on her again, much closer to her face. Feeling like a specimen in a jar, like a body on a table, so thorough was the stare the ME was giving her. "You gotta keep the elbow soft too, distribute the impact." Jane's hand worked down that bicep, feeling the tense muscles as she made her way to the elbow.

"Don't brace though, keep it loose." Jane made her way down to the wrist, aware of the way Doctor Isles was watching her hands, aware of the way the rough scar tissue caught on the doctor's soft skin, aware of the way they were visible, splayed open to those scrutinising eyes. "And here, you're dropping down as you strike. Try it like this," Jane said, removing her hands, watching Doctor Isles aim a punch at the air in front of the bag. "Better?" Jane asked softly, and Doctor Isles nodded, aimed another punch, striking the bag. Jane watched her form and nodded, pleased with what she saw.

"Do you do much boxing?" Doctor Isles asked.

"I used to," Jane said. "Won't get signed off for a few more months." Jane headed over to the weights and turned her back to Doctor Isles, who'd stopped her workout and was staring at her. When Jane met her gaze in the mirror, Doctor Isles looked away and started punching the bag again.

"Any other tips?" Doctor Isles asked after another volley.

"In active combat, ya gotta turn sideways. Make yourself less of a target."

"Good advice," Doctor Isles noted. "But perhaps I can leave that for next week."

"Y'come here Thursdays, huh?" Jane asked.

"Less people," Doctor Isles said, a wry smile on her face.

"I can change up my schedule," Jane suggested. "If you come when people aren't here, I can make sure I'm not here too."

"I don't mind," Doctor Isles said sharply. "I don't mind you," she said, softer.

"Ok. Next week I'll show you how to spar," Jane said with a cheeky grin, dropping her weights and shaking her hands.

"You should probably wear gloves to lift," Doctor Isles observed.

"It's ten pounds," Jane said, self deprecatingly. "Besides, the gloves don't make a difference."

"They will to your -" Doctor Isles started, then cut herself off. "I'm not your doctor, so I can't offer medical advice. But you corrected my boxing stance, so can I offer a - not a professional opinion, just some informal advice?" Jane's eyes narrowed and she nodded. "Wear gloves, please." Doctor Isles wanted to elaborate on the healing process and the sensitive skin, of the scar tissue she'd felt the day before and again, a few minutes ago, and the benefits of protecting that skin. But she and Jane hadn't discussed her hands, and it seemed unprofessional to bring them up out of... was it concern that Maura was feeling? Was it empathy? Why did looking at those hands make her stomach clench in a way that cutting into a human bowel system didn't? She brought her gaze up to meet Jane's, and Jane's face softened somehow at what she saw on Doctor Isles' face.

"Sure, who am I to turn down free medical advice," Jane shrugged, but there was a cocky smile on her face, as though she'd won something.

Jane checked the clock.

"I have to get back. How're your wrists?"

Doctor Isles flexed her wrists and nodded. "They feel less jarred. Thank you." The look Doctor Isles gave Jane wasn't much softer, but it was full of more understanding.

"It sounds hopeful, then?" Richard asked.

"Yeah. I haven't been down to the morgue much this week but she did say it was ok if I watched her through the door. I was holding a body for her at the time."

"Did she say anything else?" Richard asked, watching Jane's blush spread across her cheeks.

"Uh... Just that she'd... She said she'd thought she had a secret admirer. You know, because I used to duck. So she wouldn't see me."

"And you find that embarrassing?"

"What? No! I mean, yeah. Maybe. I don't know, it felt weird. Like she was being friendly but too friendly? She doesn't... She's not friendly, not the way you'd expect. But I think she was trying to make a joke? I don't know."

Richard made a note.

"She saw my hands," Jane said, unprompted. "I mean, I know people can see them. But I held one out to her, to help her up, and she... she saw it. And she didn't flinch when she touched it."

"She is a doctor," Richard said casually.

"Yeah, but not for people that are still alive," Jane pointed out, not sure why she didn't want to say that she'd smoothed her palm across the soft skin of Doctor Isles' muscular arms in the gym that afternoon. "She told me to wear gloves when I lift weights," she added, as a concession to that afternoon's discussion.

"Which your physical therapist also advised." Richard noted, looking back through his notebook.

"She seemed... I don't know, concerned." Jane looked down at her hands, remembering the warmth from Doctor Isles' skin, how it had felt like a shock to her system for a moment before warming her. "Like maybe she doesn't hate me?" Jane questioned, screwing up her face. "I mean, I know they call her Queen of the dead and the Corpse Queen and all the rest, so maybe she's like this with everyone. Maybe she doesn't like people, instead of not liking me."

"And you want her to like you?" Jane made a high, frustrated sound.

"You told me to get her to soften up so I could watch her autopsies."

"I did, didn't I. But does it matter to you if she likes you?"

"I just want to solve murders, ok? And she's the best shot my team has to do that and get the perps locked up. Her evidence is irrefutable. If I have to get her to like me to do that, then I'll try." Jane admitted she hadn't tried very hard; she'd not changed her habits or the way she acted around the doctor to entice her into friendship.

"And do you like her?" Richard asked, pen poised over paper.

"I like her work," Jane said bluntly. She thought for another moment, the way Doctor Isles' hair had shone in the sunlight in that godawful alley, the way she looked in her jogging outfit, the tenderness she'd shown the body Jane had helped her with, the way she had seen Jane - seen her hands, unflinchingly touching her, not remarking on something she must have wanted to as a doctor - the other ME's had all taken a quick look out of interest, and Doctor Isles had autopsied several of Hoyt's victims. She must know exactly where each tendon had been severed, down to the chips in her bones, where her nerves were screaming clusters at the end of the day. Jane tucked her hands between her knees. It felt strange, knowing Doctor Isles knew something so intimate about her. She thought about the way Doctor Isles had startled at the sound of Jane's voice, and the way she'd relaxed when she'd seen it was only Jane. She'd liked that. She'd liked that Doctor Isles had said she didn't mind Jane. "I like her," Jane said finally. "She's fussy and glamorous and precise and scientific but beneath that there's something there..." She trailed off. "How's that going to help with my immersion therapy?"

"It's been nearly two weeks. If you hadn't made any progress, I'd be asking you to change which of the doctors you were shadowing. But this seems like a good fit. You don't have many female friends, do you?"

"No," Jane admitted. "I don't have a lot in common with women."

"It sounds like she doesn't either." Richard snapped his notebook shut. "You're free for another week. Let's see how you go - it sounds like she'd be happy for you to be in the room for her work." Jane nodded. "You don't have to, and it might be best to warn her."

"I think she knows," Jane said. "She never touches the instrument tray when I'm in there."

"Still," Richard opened the door. "Next week?" Jane nodded and walked out.

Notes:

Thinking of doing Monday and Friday because there is something another 10 chapters away and I can't wait 10 weeks.