Author's note: thank you very much for all your reviews.

Chapter twelve: A Conclusion To Draw

The scalpels were neat. The scissors were ready. A brand new autopsy kit was lying bare on the metallic table in front of her but she didn't have any corpse to work on. Nobody. It was a calm day at the morgue. Her team was either working on other cases or filling reports that she would have to sign later on.

A perfect day for introspection except it was the last thing Maura wanted to do.

For once, she felt like forgetting everything; not using her brain too much and simply relax. Have a bit of fun. Such lightness didn't match her temper, though. She used to think – analyze – and study.

This was who she was: a pure scientist.

They had almost kissed and so what? It was probably her fault, anyway. She remembered how tired she had been. She had just woken up and was still somehow plunged in her dreams.

She knew Jane hadn't pushed her away but she preferred to ignore this detail for not knowing what to do of it.

Her mother had left for Paris the next morning in a relative silence. She hadn't insisted, hadn't said the slightest thing. But Maura hadn't forgotten either the way she had hugged her. The gesture had been meaningful; explicit. Her smile as well.

Jane. Troubled, the medical examiner left the autopsy room and walked back to her office. She sat down on the couch before grabbing a cushion to hold it tightly against her. Protectively. She felt lost.

Overwhelmed.

Of course, life had gone on as if nothing had happened.

Maura had rushed to her yoga room pretending to need something there. And then at midnight, the teenagers had left. She and Jane had gone to bed without a word. It had taken them a while to look at each other again, though. If Margot hadn't made a remark about their rather odd behavior, Maura had no idea whether she would have locked her eyes with her friend's ones yet again.

She felt a bit embarrassed.

You were both intoxicated, Isles. There is nothing to worry about, nothing to analyze. A kiss isn't the end of the world, anyway. People kiss every day. You wouldn't have died from it.

Her cell phone vibrated in the pocket of her jacket. She took it out then opened the text message. It came from Jane.

I'm off to Quantico for two days.

Back home to pack.

Take care

J.

Maura frowned. What was Jane going to do in Quantico? She was not particularly eager to work in collaboration with the FBI and – as far as Maura knew – she wasn't on any big case that required a quick intervention from the Bureau. But too coward to call her friend, the scientist simply sent her back a message.

Is everything okay?

Tell me when you land back in Boston, we will go pick you up at the airport.

M.

...

"You argued, didn't you? You argued because of the party, because of me?" Fork in hand, Margot shook her head apologetically and looked down at her plate. She had barely touched her pasta. "I am so sorry... I didn't mean to do anything wrong."

"We didn't argue! And you didn't do anything wrong. Going away for a few days happens relatively often. We have... Singular jobs. Last-minute changes of plan are frequent."

Although they had made sure at first that none of them would have to leave Boston during Margot's stay.

Jane's departure had been rushed and decided upon the BPD. She hadn't had much of a choice but Maura still thought that it was related to their semblance of kiss. The Italian had probably seen in it an excellent excuse to take her distance with Maura for a few hours.

"If you say so." Margot took a mouthful of pasta and smiled nicely at Maura. "Your mother is a nice person. A bit... Strange...? But cool. I like her. She and Angela get along. They didn't stop talking."

If the first part of Margot's statement didn't trouble Maura much, the second part got a very different effect on her. Her heartbeats sped up their pace, she swallowed hard.

Constance and Angela had a rather good relation but weren't that talkative; or at least not to the point Margot had a chance to notice it.

"What were they talking about?"

"I don't know. They would stop whenever I walked in the room. But Angela looked happy. She was always smiling when they talked."

The confession pushed Maura to a refill. She took a long sip of her wine then stared blankly in front of her. She wasn't sure what to do of such detail. If Jane had been there, the brunette would have not wasted a second in calling the whole thing a conspiracy of some sort. But Maura was more balanced or at least she was supposed to.

There was nothing less sure anymore.

"Maura...?" Margot seemed to hesitate. "I don't understand why you hadn't told your mother you were married. You two are okay with each other, I saw it. So why? Why not letting her know? It's important. You don't get married every day! She doesn't like Jane? Or... She doesn't... She doesn't like the idea you're with a woman? She didn't sound like this kind of person to me. I really don't understand your silence over it."

For once someone was eager to keep alive the French tradition of having a long talk during the meal, Maura simply felt the urge to run away.

She needed to take a bath and let the warmth of the water rock her peacefully; Yo-Yo Ma playing in the background.

"We do get along but we don't talk much. We aren't strangers – this is not what I mean – but there is quite of a distance between the two of us. She spends her time traveling the world. I haven't spent a single Christmas Day with her and my father since 1992. We are a singular family."

"Then you must be happy to have the Rizzolis. Jane complains all the time that her mother's here... You don't have yours a lot. It's the exact opposite!"

The remark made Maura smile. There was something true in what Margot had just said. Something very true.

"You are a good observer, and a smart girl. How come you don't have a boyfriend? You don't have a crush at school? An American crush...?"

Margot put her fork down and crossed her hands on the table. She bit her lower lip and turned her head around to look at Maura with all the seriousness in the world.

"Don't take it bad but you sound really obsessed with guys for a woman who's married to another woman."

In other circumstances, the comment would have probably made her burst out laughing but Maura blushed instead and tried to hide herself behind her glass of wine.

Her cheeks were burning. Why had she even talked about boyfriends in the first place? If Margot didn't want to have one then it was okay. She should have chosen another subject to talk about.

"Well... I happened to date men too, you know. I am not – was not – exclusive." She stood up right away and walked to the sink just to turn her back at Margot. "But we can talk about anything else."

"I don't mind who you dated in the past. It turned out that Jane was the right one for you."

The certainty in Margot's voice made Maura freeze. The French student had said so with the same casualness one would use to say the most random thing in the world. Why did it seem so evident to people who didn't know that they weren't really married? They didn't fake it much. It was more a cohabitation.

Why did people draw such conclusions when their behavior as friends hadn't changed?

The first notes of a waltz resounded loud in the house. Startled, Maura turned around and looked at Margot. The young girl had left the table for Jane's piano.

Nobody had ever touched the instrument apart from the detective and yet, it hadn't happened for a long while. She had stopped playing after sustaining her hand injuries.

Hearing the keys was the most singular thing Maura had ever faced at her place. She knew Margot played the piano as it was written in her file but she hadn't touched Jane's since she had arrived.

Very slowly, Maura made her way to the living-room and sat on the arm of the couch to listen to the waltz wishing nothing but Jane to be here.

She was convinced that her friend would have loved this moment in spite of the meaning behind this piano she didn't dare to touch, barely look at.

You miss her, don't you? Be honest with yourself, Isles. You miss her and you know why. Face it. Put words on it. That's all you need to do to feel relieved.

Maura closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the music.

Margot had a good level and the melody came up with fluidity rising in the air delicately. Everything crashed when she stopped, though. Maura's smile disappeared – the house got plunged in a heavy silence – and they both felt lonely.

"I am in love with her."

A chaste smile curled up Margot's lips. She looked down at the keys - her hands still on them - then nodded at Maura's statement.

"I know."