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

Chapter 5

"I told you the rolls were good."

Maura met Jane's gaze with a look of feigned innocence on her face, knowing she had just stolen the last one from the basket. "They are quite good, I have to admit. And who knew eating meat with your hands would be so enjoyable?"

"Especially when it comes in buckets," teased Jane, dropping the bone she had just finished gnawing on into one of said buckets. "But I think this meal is going to have to count for lunch and dinner, because my ass is getting bigger as we speak."

"I'm not eating again until Monday," said Maura matter-of-factly, swallowing her last mouthful of fluffy white roll.

"Save a little room for dessert though," cautioned Jane, licking barbecue sauce from her fingers.

Maura groaned. "After all this—that woman is going to be bringing out dessert too?" She scanned the empty restaurant, expecting to see their floral-aproned waitress arrive with a selection of pies or cakes or something else completely sinful.

"Not here—back at your place. I promised you chocolate, remember? I brought you some truffles last night, which you would have noticed if you hadn't been so anxious to get me into bed."

Jane took a drink of soda and then glanced up to find Maura staring at her with a look of panic on her face.

"Is that what you thought . . ."

Jane's eyes went wide as she realized what she had said. "No! I meant, if you hadn't been so anxious to get to bed. To sleep. I mean, I totally get it, you really needed to sleep, right? I—didn't mean anything—I'm sorry, Maura." Jane looked deflated, but the doctor looked relieved.

"Okay, because I—"

"I know—it's all good." Jane waved her hand as if she could dismiss the subject that way, and took another drink. She wracked her brain, searching for something else to talk about.

"So, why don't you tell me more about bubble day, you know, with your mom? I always pictured you spending your summers poring over books and visiting museums. I didn't imagine there would be much room for fun in the Isles household."

Maura looked grateful for the change of subject, and answered readily. "I think that's why we had bubble days—my mom wanted to get me away from my studies for awhile. She knew I could be a little obsessive about schoolwork and such, just like my father, and I think it made her a little sad."

"Sad? Why? I thought she was an art historian—she must have had to study a lot too."

"Yes, she was—and still is—an art historian. But she was never quite so fanatical about her work as my dad. She wanted a more balanced life, I think. She gave a lot up to be with my dad, and to be the person he wanted her to be."

Jane looked confused. "Wait, I thought they were both professors? What did your mom have to give up?"

Maura shook her head. "My mom wasn't a professor. She has her master's degree, and she worked as a curator at an art museum for most of the time I was growing up. My dad was a professor of political science at BCU. But that's not what I meant."

Maura paused to take a sip of soda. She hesitated, but Jane looked at her expectantly, so she continued.

"You know my parents are—um, fairly well off, financially, right?"

Jane snorted. "Um, yeah. I kind of figured that out during the whole Garrett Fairfield affair. Case. So?"

Maura still hesitated, so Jane reached for her hand. "I don't mind you talking about your money, Maura. I want to hear about your family—you almost never talk about them."

Maura squeezed Jane's fingers and smiled. "Well, my dad was the one who came from money. A lot of it." Still nervous about Jane's reaction, her eyes flitted away from Jane's, but she continued. "He met my mom when they were both in graduate school. She came from a middle-class background, and was not the kind of woman my dad was expected to bring home. But they fell in love anyway," said Maura, shrugging her shoulders.

"And . . ." prompted Jane.

"They got married after my mom finished her master's degree. She had planned to go on for a PhD, but at that time marriage usually meant the end of a woman's education. Formal education, anyway. Her new full-time job was taking care of my dad so that he would have adequate time for his work, and learning how to be a socialite."

"So all of the stuff you know about fashion and clothes and fish knives, you learned over a lifetime . . ."

"But she had to learn it all overnight so that she could fit into my father's social circle." Maura nodded.

"And you think she was unhappy." Jane's tone was flat.

Maura considered that briefly. "No, I don't. I know my parents loved each other—quite a lot actually. I don't think she resented the sacrifices, but every once in awhile I got the feeling that there were some things she missed about her old life that she wanted me to experience. So she came up with bubble days. The only problem was, she had also begun training me from the time I was tiny how to live in an elite world, so when I took time off from my studies I usually gravitated toward shopping or spa treatments."

Jane smiled. "Of course you did."

"I know, it's such a big surprise." Maura squeezed Jane's fingers again, suddenly realizing they were still holding hands across the table. "I don't think mom minded, though. She did enjoy the finer things, and we had fun together, in our own way."

"So you don't think your mom regretted marrying above her station, and giving up her middle-class life?" Jane blurted out the question without thinking.

Maura looked across the table at the detective. She pulled her hands away, and crossed her arms in front of her chest before answering.

"I don't know; it's not the kind of thing we would ever discuss."

"Maura." Jane used a tone of voice that she knew always got through to the doctor. "You must have some idea, though?"

Maura answered with a sigh. "I can honestly say that at this point in her life I believe she has no regrets. But it took a very long time for her to be accepted by my father's family, and by his friends. I remember some incident that happened just after I graduated from medical school when some woman she was on a committee with suggested that her judgment on a certain matter was probably compromised because of her background. All those years later, and they still remembered that she didn't come from money." Maura shook her head.

"I try very hard not to be like that, you know." She looked directly at Jane then, her eyes saying more than her words.

"I know, sweetie, you are nothing like that." Jane smiled sincerely, but then her expression turned serious again. "Your parents' experiences must have had some impact on the way that you see relationships though, right? You must have thought about money and social status a lot more than most people."

Maura bit her lip and said nothing.

For some reason, Jane pushed, even though she could tell it might make Maura uncomfortable. With this new level of intimacy they had reached during the weekend, she felt like she had to know.

"Come on, Maura, tell me." Throwing caution to the wind, she suddenly stood up and with a quick glance around the room slid into the other side of the booth, next to her friend. Leaning her elbow on the table, she asked, "Is that why you broke up with Garrett? Because you were worried about becoming one of those—snobs?" Jane said the last word almost in a whisper, hoping she wasn't being indelicate.

Maura shook her head vigorously and answered quickly. "No, that had nothing to do with it."

Jane waited for a brief moment, studying Maura's features. It was easy to tell that she wasn't lying—technically. "Then, what? I can tell there's something else."

"Someone else," said Maura, slowly. She reached out and began stroking Jane's arm. Absently, she moved her hand up, and down. Up; down.

Jane watched Maura's fingers and cleared her throat. "You've never mentioned any other boyfriends besides Garrett."

"Don't sound so surprised, Jane. Did you think I haven't had sex with anyone else since Garrett?"

Jane felt herself blushing. She stammered out a reply. "Well, no, I mean, yes. I mean, I figured you'd had sex, Maura; I was there when you dated Brock, remember—"

"I didn't have sex with Brock."

Jane was taken aback. "You didn't? Why not? I mean—never mind. We're getting off the subject here. I know you've dated other—um, people," she muttered in a low voice, "but you hadn't really talked about any other relationships."

"Well, there was one other serious relationship. In medical school."

"Uh huh. And, was it a, um . . ." She wanted to ask, she needed to know, but couldn't bring herself to do it.

"He was one of my professors." Maura moved her hands to her lap.

Jane let out a long breath. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. "A professor? You've been holding out on me, Mrs. Robinson." Jane snorted. "Actually, the opposite of Mrs. Robinson, but you know what I mean." Jane looked at Maura's puzzled face. "Or maybe you don't. But it doesn't matter—go on."

"His name was Dr. Stewart—"

"You slept with the man and you still call him Dr. Stewart?"

Maura felt the color rising to her cheeks. "I guess I do still think of him that way, yes." She buried her face in her hands. "God, it's such a cliché, isn't it? Thank goodness I didn't marry him."

"Marry him? He asked you to marry him too? Who knew you were such a heartbreaker."

Maura acknowledged Jane's teasing with a smirk. "Garrett and Dr. Stewart—Philip—were the only two, if you must know. And I considered both proposals very seriously. Philip insisted that we could make it work—that despite breaking all the rules, and risking both of our careers, it would be worth it."

"And I guess you didn't think so, or you would be having this conversation with some doctor's wife instead of a homicide detective." Jane gave a little laugh.

"I weighed all of the options carefully. I decided it wasn't worth the risk."

"Wow. You 'weighed all the options.' You say that like you were deciding between buying a Ford or a Chevy. Or in your case, a Benz or a Cadillac. Did your feelings toward him factor into the equation at all?"

Maura narrowed her eyes at Jane, wondering if she was being teased. When she saw that the detective was serious, she answered sincerely. "Of course they did. I decided that my feelings for him weren't enough. They weren't strong enough, that is. And, frankly, I didn't want to go through the same kinds of things that my mother had. I didn't want someone bringing up the fact that I had married my professor, ten or twenty years after the fact."

"But—did you love him, Maura?"

The doctor considered the question for a moment. "I did. But I still have no regrets about my decision. I mean, he was a very skilled lover, but who knows if that would have lasted." She sighed wistfully.

"Maura!" hissed Jane, looking around as though someone might be eavesdropping on their conversation.

"What? He was!" Maura's tone became low and confiding. "He used to do this thing—"

Jane covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut tightly, ignoring the chill and sudden stab of jealousy running through her. "I don't want to hear it, Maura!"

Maura pulled Jane's hands off of her ears, laughing. "I'm just teasing you, Jane! I wasn't going to say anything . . . explicit." Maura looked quite proud of herself for the reaction she had gotten out of Jane. "You always blush and fidget when I talk about sex, but I promise I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable.

"You aren't?"

"Well, maybe a little." The smirk on her lips appeared again.

"But Jane," she continued, looking pointedly at the detective, her face serious again, "I also don't regret breaking up with him, because then I wouldn't be sitting here with you." Quickly, she leaned over and left a lingering kiss on Jane's cheek.

The detective grinned goofily, feeling herself blushing.

"Well, I'm glad you're here with me too." She could not wipe the grin off her face, and she just stared at the woman in front of her. She reached out and tucked a few wayward strands of hair behind her ear.

All of a sudden, it hit Jane—hard—how close together they were sitting, and how Maura's eyes kept glancing at her lips.

Oh god, I want to kiss her. So much.

But she's not . . . and I'm not . . .

"Detective, you're blushing again."

Jane swallowed, and straightened up. "Oh. Well, it's kind of warm in here, isn't it?" Heart pounding, she reached across the table for her water glass and took a gulp. When she looked back at Maura, she couldn't read her expression—couldn't tell if she was relieved or disappointed or just—comfortable.

"I guess we should get going, huh?" Jane took another gulp of water. "I should probably go for a run when we get home, burn off some of these calories."

"Yes, good idea. The exercise will probably help me sleep too." Maura reached for her purse.

Before scooting out of the booth, Jane put her arm around the doctor and gave her a squeeze, which turned into an awkward side hug. Jane groaned inwardly; she felt completely out of her element with what was happening between them.

But that didn't mean she wanted it to end. When she took Maura's hand to help her out from behind the table, she didn't let go. They walked to the car, hand in hand, sharing a smile when they saw the hostess watching them.

Swinging Maura's hand in the late afternoon sunshine, Jane grinned and practically shouted, "Man, I love bubble day."