A/N: For the amount of time I spend planning this story you'd think I'd have more of it written down. Life has just reached a really busy stage, but I want you to know I am so, so dedicated to this story. Thanks so much for being so supportive!
"Maura-the-Bora!"
Their voices ring against the bathroom stalls, swimming with prolonged echoes as the noise builds around her. Maura presses herself up against the tiled wall, clenching her book against her chest. She chews on her tongue until she tastes blood. Her stomach knots, as her knees tremble beneath her weight. The throng of girls hovering in front of her blocks her access to the door.
She wants to cry.
The biggest girl, who dwarves Maura by two full heads, steps forward from the circle. Stacey, whose mother is the headmistress of Willard Academy. Stacey, who is brutal and entitled. Stacey, who can do no wrong.
"What are you reading today?" Stacey looms over her. She grips the top of the book, easily tearing it from Maura's arms. They fall weakly to her side. She glances toward the door again. "Moby Dick?" Stacey reads the title aloud, earning a few snickers from the girls behind her. "Should I tell my mother you're reading books with dirty words?"
Maura feels smug for a moment, almost hoping to exploit her ignorance, but girls only laugh louder. Maura presses her back further up against the wall, biting down sharply on her lower lip. Stacey pages through the book for a moment, her fingers rough and uninterested. She tosses the book to the ground without a second thought. Maura jerks forward, her reaction instinctive as she reaches for the fallen book, but Stacey's response is quicker, as she juts her leg forward. Maura's feet catch on her shin, as she tumbles, her stomach flopping out of place as the impact steals her breath. She keeps her cheek pressed against the ground, hot tears prickling from her eyes. She clamps them shut, their laughter so sharp she can feel it stabbing her skin.
Ms. Jacobs, she pleads silently, like a prayer, please come. She wants to believe in miracles so badly. She wants to believe that promises are more than just words.
But she is left with her face plastered against the ground, motionless, aching. She doesn't look up until she is certain she is alone.
XXX
Jane holds herself like man. Feet parted, thumbs hooked in her pockets, her stance broad. Though she's slim, there's nothing delicate about her. Maura glances at her from across the autopsy table. It's taking her twice as long to draw a blood sample as it usually does, because she cannot keep her eyes focused, not with Jane's bronze, muscled arms as just a few feet away.
"Sorry if I'm making you nervous," Jane mutters, though she steps closer to the table as she speaks. Maura stares intently at the vial clenched in her hand. She counts how many seconds she can make it without peering up. She doesn't even make it to ten.
"Oh, no, not at all," she tries to lie, but her voice is flimsy. "What brings you down to the morgue?" she adds quickly.
Jane shrugs, her hands still in her pocket as she saunters around to the other side of the table, taking a closer look at the victim's bruised, misshapen face. There is no hesitation in her movements - just a small hint of curiosity, but she is so nonchalant she might as well be picking out wallpaper patterns. "It's a slow day," she finally speaks, a little distracted. But after a moment, she lifts her head, her curls falling away from her face. She flashes Maura her characteristic smile. "And I thought you might want some company."
Maura almost drops the vial, her stomach jumping so unexpectedly as it is assaulted by a rush of warmth. She smiles so largely she can feel it aching in her ears. "That was very thoughtful of you." She wants to say more, but she cherishes the unexpected words, frightened of ruining the moment.
Jane, as always, carries on the conversation with ease. "So do you have a cause of death yet?" She continues to hover, assessing the body.
Maura answers her, a little more confidently now, as these are the kind of words she can form without hesitation. "I suspected brain trauma, but the intensity and location of the impact do not appear to be consistent with such damage."
"Judging by the black stains on his fingers, I'd say substance abuse may have something to do with it," Jane nods a few times. There's a look in her eyes Maura can't identify.
Maura is impressed. "Yes, that is certainly a factor I am taking into consideration, though nothing is conclusive until I get test results back. It looks like your time in the drug unit has made you a natural homicide detective." Maura forces a tiny chuckle.
It's hardly a joke, but Maura is still disappointed when Jane doesn't even pretend to laugh. "Something like that," Jane mutters, distracted again for a moment. Her brow knits gently as she looks at her hands.
Jane's phone buzzes loudly. She jumps. So does Maura. Jane digs it out of her pocket, her brow furrowing. "Shit, I gotta take this." She looks anxiously at the screen, and Maura's stomach drops in unavoidable disappointment, feeling small and childish.
"But hey," Jane stops for a minute, balancing on her foot as she hovers in the doorway for a fraction of a second, the familiar warmth back in her eyes. "If you're free, you should come up and join me for lunch in the cafe today, kay?"
She's gone before Maura can answer.
Her stomach hurts and flutters simultaneously.
A/N: I am really going to try my best to post shorter chapters more often, as I tried to make this one longer and I think it was starting to stress me out with all the other things I have going on in my life. I'm hoping that with your busy lives short chapters will be satisfying to you guys as well. Please let me know what you think - your feedback means so much :)