Wednesday

A lot of kids went missing each year. The fact that kids grew so fast, that they underwent so much change in such a short period of time made facial recognition nearly impossible.

Jane and Frost spent hours each day scanning through Amber alerts from the past decade, reaching out to the Canadian authorities for access to their databases and trying to filter through those as well. The amount of cases were immense, even when just looking at the photos.

"We need something on the DNA. Surely someone's done a 23 and me or a heritage test or something." Jane said, frustrated.

"We still haven't got anything back from the Canadian database," Frost pointed out.

Jane pushed her mouse across the desk in frustration. "I'm going down the street for coffee, want one?" She asked Frost, taking his and Korsak's orders.

The coffee tray helped a lot with Jane's ability to carry coffee. Frost and Korsak eyed the fourth coffee with interest when Jane handed theirs over.

"Still bribing the ME?" Korsak joked, and Jane missed him as her partner.

"No, it's... she took the kids in to get x-rayed. She deserves something nice," Jane mumbled.

"I couldn't do what she does," Frost agreed. "Oh hey, check if the crime lab have anything back on DNA."

Jane nodded and headed downstairs.

Doctor Isles looked up from her desk at Jane's recalcitrant knock.

"Come in," she said, watchfully. Jane's heart sank. The other woman was guarded again. Jane hadn't done anything; perhaps Doctor Isles was always like this, hot and cold. Speaking of which, the coffee was getting cold. Jane squared her shoulders and upper her bravado as she opened the door, closing it behind her before she sat herself on the couch of Doctor Isles' office, sliding the cardboard coffee tray along the surface of the coffee table invitingly. Doctor Isles sighed and got up, sitting in the ridiculous arm chair.

"What do you need?" Doctor Isles asked snappishly; she'd had another detective come in and complain that a body that hadn't even arrived yet hadn't been autopsied. She'd given him a look that would melt paint, but she still felt the sting of not living up to an expectation, as unreasonable as it may have been. He'd shot out of there looking terrified and she'd barely noticed, looking through her research after the interruption had left. Now Jane was here, acting weird.

"I need you to relax a little," Jane said softly. "What's wrong?" Jane asked, pushing the lone coffee left in the holder towards her. "Is it the kids?"

"What? No. Nothing's wrong. No, why would you think something's wrong?" Doctor Isles took the coffee, feeling the hives start to rise on her chest.

"Oh no, I buy you the good coffee and you're allergic to it," Jane said anxiously. "Do you have something you can take?" Doctor Isles pointed to the bag on her desk, capable and willing to walk over but Jane was already on her feet. Doctor Isles took a sip of the coffee; it was the blend she liked from the place around the corner. Jane must have asked for her usual.

"No! Don't keep drinking it! Aw, I'm sorry," Jane's expressive brown eyes were wide with fright as she handed Doctor Isles her bag. Doctor Isles dug out the antihistamines she needed for when she lied... For when she... lied. She hadn't lied; not really. The children weren't bothering her, and she'd only asked a question in answer to Jane's question. She hadn't really answered it. And nothing was wrong. Dead children were normal. Yelling detectives were normal. This overwhelming sense of loneliness was normal. So why did it hurt so much today?

"It's not the coffee. The coffee is fine," Doctor Isles said, taking the antihistamine, chasing it with the coffee. "The coffee is very nice."

"Do you have a list of allergies, so I know what not to get you?" Jane asked, hovering awkwardly.

"I need to see an immunologist," Doctor Isles said carefully. The last one she'd seen suggested that her Mast Cells were responding to the psychological stress of lying, and after having done her research she tended to agree. Yet it wasn't a formal diagnosis, so she had room to make that claim comfortably.

Jane knelt on one knee next to Doctor Isles' chair. "Are you sure it's not the coffee?" She fussed. "I made sure I got your order." Jane's eyes were glued to the patch of skin showing above the neckline of Doctor Isles' dress until she realised what she was doing. Her eyes flew up to meet Doctor Isles', a crimson blush covering her face as she looked away.

"How did you describe me?" Doctor Isles asked, hoping to keep Jane from asking more about her allergies.

"I just said your name," Jane said, eyes returning to watching Doctor Isles' chest, not saying that she'd first used a physical description of the woman; honey brown hair, soft hazel eyes, sharp nose, a smile that shone out when she dropped her guard, dressed to die for. Doctor Isles dropped her head to make obvious eye contact with Jane, and Jane blushed again and looked away. "It looks a lot better. Sorry, you scared me." Jane went back to the couch, took a sip from her cup. "I've never had to use an EpiPen, and I didn't want the first time I had to be on a Doctor."

"You really should have some training," Doctor Isles said. "What if there was an all-hands call, and your team got there first?"

"I'd stab 'em with the pen. It'd be fine, as long as they're not judging me the entire time."

"I didn't mean to complain about the coffee you brought me," Doctor Isles said suddenly. "But this is much nicer."

Jane looked over at Doctor Isles, who looked more relaxed, and smiled.

"It is, isn't it?"

"Thank you for bringing me coffee. I apologise for being curt earlier. You're the only - the only detective - that..." Doctor Isles looked down at her hands, then looked up at Jane. "You treat my staff well. You treat my bodies with dignity. You bring me coffee. Is this some act, or is this who you are?"

"I can't act to save my life," Jane said. "I've been told I'm impetuous and impatient - and I am - but your staff does a good job. Your bodies have already had a hard time. And there were four coffees on the tray. Makes it easier to carry. You've done a lot of the heavy lifting on this case, and yeah, I'm frustrated that I can't go and arrest anyone yet, but we'll have something soon. I'm not always going to have the patience to be deliberately nice to you - I don't watch what I say carefully enough, and I know I'm going to put my foot in it sometimes - but if you give me some leeway and let me get out of the heat of the moment, I'll be back with coffee and an apology." Jane sighed. "I trust you. I trust your work. I'm not... I'm not someone that knows what to do with women, ok? I forget you have... feelings. I work with men for a reason."

"You talk about women as though they're different to you. Do you identify yourself more on the male end of the spectrum?"

"What? No." Jane sipped at her coffee. "Well, maybe. I'm not on your end of the spectrum, if that's what you mean. You're... if you're 100%, then yeah, I'm somewhere else. Maybe a 70%? You're practically a different species to me." Jane sighed. "I got two brothers. I always resented being dressed different, being treated different."

"Gender identity is incredibly diverse," Doctor Isles said. "I could send you some research. It's very interesting, especially in several species of fish - the parrotfish are an incredibly unique example of protogynous hermaphroditism," Doctor Isles beamed at Jane as though she'd understood every word she'd just said. "And bees have a rather complex relationship with gender as well."

"I'm not... I'm not a fish, Doctor Isles," Jane said, unsure if she was being pranked. "Or a bee. I'm... I'm happy with who I am, ok? I don't need to change anything."

"You don't necessarily have to," Doctor Isles pointed out. "But it may help with how you interact with women in future."

Jane groaned. "Ok, send me whatever. I'll get to it - once you find something that helps us solve this case." Jane raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Doctor Isles gave Jane a rare genuine smile. "I guess I'd better get back to it then." She stood and went back to her desk, taking her purse with her. "Thank you for the coffee," she added as jane got to her feet, knowing she'd been dismissed and kicking herself a little for giving Doctor Isles such an easy way out of the conversation, even if she hadn't understood much of it.

Jane shot Doctor Isles one of her cheekiest grins. "You're welcome," she said, her voice low and husky, closing the door behind her as she left. Doctor Isles ran her hand over her chest, checking that the hives were fading, remembering how Jane's eyes had been drawn there. She chuckled to herself and sent Jane a few well-reputed studies, noting with surprise that her former bad mood had entirely evaporated in the face of Jane's initial kindness, followed by her concern, followed by her confusion, all of which had been endearing somehow. She eyed the coffee; she could blame some of her cheeriness on that, and the fact that she loved any excuse to do research on an unfamiliar but vaguely interesting topic, but she knew that most of it came from a moment where Jane, on one knee looking up at her, caught staring at her cleavage, had met her eyes with a shy appreciation.

Notes:

I'm really excited about next week's chapters but we have to have this week's chapters first ugh

/2020/02/04/parrotfish-the-gender-fluid-narcoleptics-that-poop-out-beaches/

sex-change-in-sea-facts-about-gender-bending-fishes#page-2

/parrotfish-colorful-complex-lives/

... there's no real guide on how to relate to women when you're outside the gender binary and that is disappointing.