A/N: The usual disclaimer applies. I own nothing.

Chapter 2

A growling stomach reminded Jane Rizzoli that it was time for lunch. "Shit," she muttered when she realized she was twenty minutes late. Grabbing her purse, the detective headed out the door and down the stairs to the morgue, vaguely wondering why Maura hadn't called her and asked where she was.

Gingerly opening the glass door, Jane arranged her features into something she hoped looked apologetic. Expecting to see Maura sitting at her computer with a look of mock reproach on her face, she turned toward the northwest corner of the room.

What she saw instead made her stop in her tracks.

Maura Isles, ever the consummate professional, was asleep at her desk. Her head lay on her outstretched right arm, and although her face was partially obscured by a curtain of wavy hair, her lips were slightly parted and her breathing was regular, deep and even.

A slow grin spread across Jane's face as she watched her friend sleep. Her eyes sparkled as she thought of how she could use this to her advantage. Maura was always getting after her about her less-than-professional behavior in the detectives' office—she'd walked in on more than one game of trashcan basketball clucking her tongue and teasing her colleagues about their adolescent antics.

And now Maura, the impeccably dressed, neat-as-a-pin, rule-obeying Dr. Maura Isles had fallen asleep on the job.

The wrinkles in her dress were probably settling more deeply by the second. Jane giggled into the back of her hand as she began to think of the possibilities.

Jane wondered if any of the guys upstairs had some shaving cream. Or if there was any whipped cream in the fridge. There were half-a-dozen pranks just begging to be played.

She was about to go back upstairs and recruit Frost and Korsak for the job when she saw something new on the wall next to Maura's desk—a drawing of a building that she recognized immediately. It had been done by Maura's half-brother, and Jane realized that the M.E. must have kept it and framed it, to remind her of the sibling she hadn't known existed until he had been killed just a week earlier.

Jane's shoulders sagged and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Suddenly a practical joke didn't seem like such a good idea. If Maura was asleep at her desk, it couldn't be because she had carelessly let her guard down for a minute—something was bothering her. Something big enough to let exhaustion overrule her usual sense of propriety.

Jane groaned inwardly at her cluelessness. I should have realized, she thought. She had dealt with plenty of victims in her years as a detective, but everything was different when the victim was also your co-worker and best friend.

How do you help someone who finally finds her birth father, and it turns out he's a notorious criminal? Jane had no answer, either for herself or for Maura.

Backing away slowly, the detective turned to a panel of switches just inside the door and flipped the one that turned on a yellow light in the hall that indicated "do not disturb." Then she slipped into the hallway and closed the door gently behind her.

When she returned twenty minutes later with sandwiches from the deli down the street, Maura was still in the same position, sound asleep. Jane approached the desk cautiously, unsure of just what to do. She couldn't leave the yellow light on for too long, and she didn't want Maura to have to suffer the embarrassment of being awoken by anyone else in the precinct. Setting down a sandwich and a cup of coffee on the desk, she watched Maura sleep.

Adorable. Jane smiled, in spite of the situation.

Maura looked so small, tucked into her desk like that. Jane had the sudden urge to scoop her up in her arms—an urge so strong that she felt color rising to her cheeks.

Quickly looking away from the sleeping figure, Jane ran her hand through her hair and swallowed, contemplating her next move.

I should let her sleep.

Jane sat down in an empty chair and silently scooted closer. Leaning her elbow on the desk, she watched Maura sleep. It wasn't often she got a chance to look at her friend this way, quietly, without self-consciousness.

Jane's mind wasn't quiet, however. It was racing, as was her pulse. Her thoughts were jumbled, unformed, rushing from her nose is so cute to I wonder what perfume she wears to god, why I am staring at her?

Finally, stop. Just—stop. In a second. Now! You're being creepy.

She glanced back at the door, catching a glimpse of a uniformed officer striding down the hall.

She'll hate it if anyone sees her like this.

Jane reached out and brushed the hair off of the M.E.'s face with shaking fingers, and then gently shook her shoulder.

"Maura, wake up."

Instantly, Maura sat up straight, wincing as she felt the blood rushing into the arm she had been resting on.

"What? Oh, Jane, I—" She flexed her elbow and blinked up at Jane, the confusion and embarrassment on her face evident.

"You slept through lunch, sweetie, so I brought you a sandwich and some coffee." Jane smiled.

Maura looked at the detective sleepily and smiled back weakly. Then she turned away, trying to regain her composure. "I was just," began Maura, clearing her throat, "resting my eyes." Looking up, she found the expected smirk on Jane's face. Her own mouth turned up at the corner before she could stop it.

"Uh huh." Jane gave Maura's shoulder a squeeze before pulling her hand away.

"Sorry about lunch, though," said Maura, stifling a yawn.

"That's okay, no big deal. I don't mind eating in."

Maura took a sip of the coffee Jane had brought. "Mmm, that's perfect. Thanks."

"No problem." Jane began unwrapping her own sandwich, and then asked, "So what's going on? It's not like you to fall asleep at your desk."

Maura looked stricken, and Jane instantly regretted her question. She backpedalled. "I mean, we all take naps, Maura—in this business you have to sleep when you can. I was just surprised because you're, uh, usually—I mean, I've never seen you sleeping down here before."

Maura sighed. "I know. I've just been struggling with insomnia lately."

"Lately?"

"Since the whole thing with my birth father."

"I thought we agreed to call him the sperm donor?" Jane smirked.

Maura gave a half smile. "It doesn't matter what you call him, Jane, his very existence has made me question everything I knew about myself and my life."

Jane sighed. Maura wasn't going to let her joke her way around the issue. "I know, Maura, but we've talked about this—"

The doctor cut Jane off before she could go any further. "I know you know, Jane, and I know you'll tell me that I'm still the same person no matter what my DNA is, but I don't think that's really what's bothering me. The things that happened between us—between Doyle and me—bother me."

"What do you mean? You barely spoke with the man." Jane couldn't bring herself to say his name.

"Did you know that I've never had nightmares about dead bodies?"

Jane's brow furrowed as she tried to follow Maura's train of thought. "So? I don't think I have either—"

"But I'm a medical examiner, Jane. I've seen bodies in horrible states—so horrible that no one should have to see the human body that way. But it never bothered me psychologically; never got under my skin so much that I ever had nightmares about it. But I have nightmares about him, now. When I can actually sleep, that is."

Maura took a sip of coffee.

"All of my life I've been independent," continued the doctor, her voice rising in pitch and her words coming faster. "I went to boarding school when I was ten. After my junior year of undergraduate I got my own apartment and I've lived alone ever since. It's never bothered me to be alone."

"But now, it does?"

Maura nodded, looking away from Jane, and when she spoke again her voice betrayed her bitterness. "Every little noise I hear spooks me. I'm afraid to walk near the windows at night, in case someone's out there, watching me."

"Maura, I really don't think anyone knows you're his daughter—and if they did, they'd have to be crazy to try anything. You know we've done our homework on this right? If you were in danger, I would—I mean, we would do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

"Of course, I understand that. At least, logically I understand that." Maura bit her lip and looked thoughtful for a moment. "But it's not Doyle's enemies I'm worried about, it's Doyle himself. I still can't get over the fact that he's been watching me for my whole life, and I didn't even know it. He knew me well enough to kidnap me—right out of the morgue. In the basement of the police station, Jane. How can I ever feel safe again?"

Jane reached across the desk and took Maura's hands in both of hers. "Maura, look at me." Maura looked up, and held Jane's gaze. "I know exactly how you feel."

Maura did not react to that statement at all the way Jane had expected. The doctor closed her eyes, pulled her hands away, and stood up. She rubbed her eyes and spoke, her words slightly muffled from holding her hands in front of her face.

"I know you know, Jane." The sentence came out as a sigh, a groan. "I'm not the first person in the world to have something bad happen to them. I just thought I would be able to handle it better." She dropped her hands to her sides, unconsciously smoothing her skirt. "Why am I having such a hard time handling this?" Maura sat back down in the chair, and gave Jane a pleading look. "I'm not usually like this. I'm . . . not supposed to be like this."

"You are handling it, Maura, you are. I'm not trying to make light of what you went through by saying I know how you feel—"

"God, Jane, I know, I'm sorry, I know that's not what you're saying—I know I'm not making any sense—and I'm being whiny and needy and—"

"Just listen a second, Maura, please?" Jane took Maura's hands again, trying desperately to reassure her. "I'm just saying that I know you, and you're strong enough to handle this. But it takes time, you know?"

Maura nodded, and exhaled. "Yes, I know."

"But you really need to get some sleep. Everyone's overly emotional when they aren't getting enough sleep. Even Maura Isles the cyborg." Maura laughed quietly at that, and looked slightly more relaxed.

Jane took a deep breath and squeezed Maura's fingers. "Listen, why don't I stay over at your place this weekend? We should be wrapping up this case tonight, and maybe having someone else in the house will help you sleep. Or at least I can be a distraction. I know I can do that well enough, if nothing else." Jane gave a little snort.

"Thank you, Jane, but that's not necessary—"

"I know it's not necessary," said Jane lightly, "but it'll be fun. C'mon, Maur, please let's have a sleepover? I'll bring wine and chocolate . . . and you can paint my toenails if you want."

Maura grinned. She couldn't say no to that.