A/N Hey guys apologies this has taken so long once again studies get the better of me etc etc. Still well underway but will be all finished in just over a fortnight so you'll get a lot in a short space of time then.

I know the last two chapters will have felt a little choppy time wise but I wanted to stick with Maura to begin with. The time lines are supposed to wrap around each other but I appreciate the might have felt completely out of sync or almost backwards.

Chapter 10.

Jane paced. She was good at pacing and she figured would allow her to work out some of the knots that had appeared over the last few hours. Knots which alcohol seemingly couldn't release. However the knots in her stomach would take more than a good stalk around the room in which she now found herself.

Private rooms they were called, however to Jane it seemed like a private suite. The darkened room included a well stocked bar, a lounging area and an en-suite larger than her apartment living area. None of the furniture seemed permanent, Jane assumed that the room could most likely be adapted to suit the tastes of the client or situation. She'd been marginally surprised to find the room bereft of a bed. She wasn't however surprised to see pushed against one unlit length of wall, the silhouette of some sort of massage table and a trolley set up with all sorts of beauty products and equipment tantamount to torture accoutrements. What DO these guys get off on? She wondered. Do the men here really enjoy a good pedicure?

She rolled her eyes and made a confident stride to the small, lit fridge she'd noticed built into the bar. Dragging out a bottle of beer she twisted the cap off and drank a significant portion of the bottle without pausing for breath or really caring what brand it was. Nerves were starting to rattle again. She unconsciously scratched at the scar on her palm with her ring finger.

Needing to formulate her thoughts before they scattered completely Jane tried to concentrate on why she'd decided to drag Maura in here.

She wanted information? No. That wasn't enough...

She needed a break from the role? Again, no that wasn't good enough.

Maybe, maybe... she needed to know if Maura had made any headway with information from the staff? Yes, that was a good start. And so she wanted to check with Maura before she left so to decide whether she should stay on at the club or if they'd have enough to work with from Maura's Intel? Great. Perfect.

But why had Jane really asked Maura here? What bravery had woken inside her that was now floundering?

That brief and fleeting touch.

A little flirting in an environment that was so unlike 'them', so out of context and away from familiar eyes, so public yet so private and then a touch that ignited so much in such a hurried moment. Fleeting, yet likely to be burnt into her memory for the rest of existence.

Denying it would be impossible. Touch paper and gunpowder wouldn't have created more fire or heat.

Jane finished the bottle, discarding the remains. She found an appropriate glass tumbler and although she'd refused it earlier, she helped herself to a liberal amount of Scottish whiskey. Then finally spotting the small freezer shelf she topped up the glass with a small handful of ice. Realising too late that this only enhanced the obvious nervous shake, the brunette made her way to the sofa and attempted to get comfortable.

She posed confidently with her arms outstretched along the back of the seating. Did she want to look relaxed and comfortable? No, too fake. Maura needed to know this was Jane and not Giuliana Masiello.

She sat forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her hand worrying at her face and biting the skin around her nails. She realised that this was very much how she felt. So definitely no, too real.

In the end, Jane chose to meet the two halfway. She tried to imagine how she sat when visiting with witnesses or victims families. Formal but approachable. Ok, now that was covered.

Since when did seeing Maura require so much effort of thought? She sipped more of the golden elixir swirling in her hands.

The gentle click of a door brought her out of her reverie.