Saturday

Jane woke up late again. She sighed, thinking about those poor kids. She wasn't on call so she wasn't supposed to head to the station today; Korsak and Frost would be covering if someone had to go in, or if the crime lab identified the bodies. Jane felt like she'd been sitting on the sideline for years. She looked at her phone, saw that Ma had messaged that she'd be around in the afternoon today. Good. that gave her time to decompress.

The autopsy had been stressful for a number of reasons. Dead, naked kids gave Jane the heebies, and so did scalpels.

And then there was the sensation in her hands, and the sense of knowing that while she and Doctor Isles weren't exactly friends, they were no longer enemies. Jane was sure the Doctor hadn't warmed up even this much to anyone else, and that of the station she was now probably on the best terms with the ME, all because she'd seen worse than those two poor kids nestled together like Hansel and Gretel in their pathetically shallow grave. But the surprising kindness and understanding from Doctor Isles - who wasn't exactly known for her empathy - had felt nice. It hadn't felt pitying, it had felt like a matter-of-fact examination. It had felt professional. It had felt a little like Doctor Isles had done it out of self-interest, out of a curiousity of her own about Jane's wounds, but also out of a desire to help. Jane had looked up twice, and Doctor Isles had been completely absorbed in Jane's hands, letting Jane study her for a few long moments. Strong cheekbones, lips that looked plump and soft, eyes that were focused and sharp with a thin line of eyeliner, long, impossibly long lashes. The overall effect had been touching, somehow. Jane knew when women were attractive, and Doctor Isles was very attractive. Jane had had to drag her gaze back down to her hands when Doctor Isles looked up, scrutinising Jane's face for a prolonged period before releasing her hands.

She sure was an enigma.

And Jane had seen her use a scalpel, and yet she'd let her touch Jane's hands. She never let anyone touch her hands, except doctors and even then only reluctantly; they'd caused a lot of pain. But Doctor Isles had been incredibly gentle, even if her request to see Jane's hands had been out of personal curiousity. Her hair had fallen over her shoulders in loose curls, and it had looked so soft. She'd reached for the gloves, but she'd somehow known that Jane hated the clinical examinations that came from doctors in gloves, that Jane knew Maura usually wore gloves before she reached for a scalpel. The softness of those privileged hands - because the woman clearly had money, based on her office outfitting and her outfits themselves - surprisingly warm against Jane's skin. She should be getting used to it by now; it was the third day in a row she'd had the opportunity to touch the other woman, but the shock of her warm skin was still new each time

Jane shook her head. Time to go for a run, process her week, stop thinking about the ME, start thinking about the case again.

Jane thought about the databases she had checked, texted Frost one she thought they might have missed. The DNA should come back that day, and then the federal database might find a match. She started jogging again until she was distracted by a nice ass. One she definitely knew.

"How come I never saw you around here before?" Jane asked, coming up behind Doctor Isles and keeping pace. "I'd have noticed."

"I live in Beacon Hill, but I like to run on my break, and this neighbourhood has a Boston Joe's. Their coffee is the correct temperature to consume while having a five minute cooldown before heading back to the station for an optimal workout. And it's much better than the Division One cafe's attempts at coffee."

"I run this beat every Saturday and I've never seen you, now I see you twice? Nuh-uh."

"I assure you Detective, I cannot lie."

"Where's your coffee, huh?"

"A block away. I called it in." Jane eyed her for a long moment, but continued alongside, entering Boston Joe's after Doctor Isles, watched her pick up her order. The barista started Jane's when she saw her, and Jane was back outside walking next to Doctor Isles to cool down in moments.

"Your story checks out."

"My last circuit was too long for me to have an adequate cooldown period, and I don't work every Saturday," Doctor Isles offered by way of explanation. "I like to be able to shower and be back at my desk within an hour of when I left."

"And you really don't like the café coffee?" Jane asked, a little downhearted that that was all she'd thought to bring Doctor Isles so far. No wonder she'd repeatedly turned Jane down if she didn't like it.

"It's better than nothing, but barely." Doctor Isles looked over and brushed her hand against Jane's forearm. "It's usually welcome," she said, as though she knew what Jane had been thinking.

"How'd you do it?" Jane asked, moving her coffee between her hands. At some point she really was going to have to get a keep cup. Boiling coffee against her scars burned like a mother. Doctor Isles turned and took Jane's coffee, stopping on the sidewalk as Jane rubbed her hands on her pants. "Too hot."

"How do I do what?" Doctor Isles asked, sipping from her takeaway cup.

"Cut into those kids and get up the next morning? Even just looking at them yesterday... Don't they follow you home?"

"I tell myself that if I didn't, they'd never see justice. They need someone to testify for them, for what they went through. I can do that for them. I see it less like doing something to them and more like doing something for them. Blow."

"Huh?" Jane asked, looking up. Doctor Isles had taken the lid off of her cup and was holding it out. Jane blew on it, took a sip from it as Doctor Isles held it. Doctor Isles looked surprised, as though she hadn't expected Jane to drink from the cup while she was holding it, but Jane had spent a long time unable to hold her own cups; she was adept at drinking from things other people held for her. "God, that's good." Jane took her cup back, her fingers overlapping the ME's for a long moment before Doctor Isles remembered to remove her hand, shaking her head and turning back to her own coffee, walking again. "Thanks," Jane said, keeping step with her. "Ok, so that makes sense. I want the same thing, but it's harder when they're kids."

"That's why we do what we do. So that the killer doesn't leave any more children on my tables." Doctor Isles checked her watch and handed Jane her own empty coffee cup. "I have to run if I'm going to get back to the office in time."

"Ok, enjoy!" Jane called after her, watching her run away. "I know I am," Jane muttered to herself, sipping her coffee. She used Doctor Isles' empty coffee cup as a layer of insulation, ignoring that she'd turned it so the perfect lipstick smear pressed against her bottom lip as she drank.