(PART III)
...
Five minutes later, Maura reaches her car parked outside of BPD, drops her belongings onto the passenger seat, and walks over to the driver's side, keys and wallet in hand.
Just as she is about to get in, three young girls in school uniform come bouncing down the sidewalk, engaged in a lively discussion while repeatedly glancing at their smart phones, giggling and bringing all the teenage girl clichés to life.
Moments later, a fourth girl with freckles and careless hair bursts through the doors of BPD, stumbles down the steps to the sidewalk, tries to catch up with the other girls. "Hey, wait for me!"
But before Freckles gets even closer to her classmates, she bumps into another pedestrian, and several books tumble out of her backpack. Hastily, she kneels down and gathers her items just as the other three girls turn around, gloating at the sight of their struggling follower. After conspicuously whispering to one another, they run off and disappear around the next corner, while Maura is still watching from afar.
When Freckles looks up, the other girls are gone, and she remains behind all by herself. With slouching shoulders and the corners of her mouth sagging south, she picks one of her books and flips through its pages as she strolls down the sidewalk alone.
But just as she turns another page, two boys emerge from the opposite direction, chasing each other, running towards the girl. And inevitably, one of them bumps into her, makes her drop her stuff all over again, and angrily flails his arms around. "Geez, stupid dweeb! Watch where you're going!"
Without waiting for a response, the two boys run off, leaving Freckles behind with her belongings scattered all over the sidewalk again.
Momentarily ignoring her original plans, Maura approaches the girl and helps her gather all of her books and papers, and notices her sniff away a tear. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," Freckles confirms quietly. Rather unconvincingly.
Wondering what Jane would do, Maura tries to engage her involuntary companion. "Are you part of that school excursion to Boston Police today?"
Freckles nods, shyly wipes away another tear, and stuffs her books into her backpack.
"So?" Maura tries again. "How did you like it?"
But Freckles just shrugs, grabs her backpack, and trudges away.
"Wait," Maura holds her back, then picks up another sheet of paper from the ground but refuses to hand it over right away. "Would you like to tell me what's wrong?"
"Why? Are you a shrink or something?" Demandingly, Freckles stretches out her hand and requests her paper.
Reluctantly, Maura releases the crinkled sheet. "No, I'm not. I'm the Chief Medical Examiner of the Comm—"
"You dissect people?" Suddenly, Freckles is all ears.
"Well, that is part of my work, yes," Maura confirms, unsure how to react to the girl's sudden enthusiasm.
"And you cut them open and take out all of their organs?" Her eyes sparkling with curiosity, the girl drops her backpack onto a bench next to them.
"Yes, that is part of a standard autopsy," Maura nods and sits down on the bench so she is at eye level with her young interrogator.
"You know, you can tell from dead people's stomach contents when they died," Freckles explains keenly.
"That is correct," Maura smiles with approval. "How do you know?"
"I'm—" But suddenly, the girl hesitates and her smile fades away. "I guess I must have read it somewhere… I read a lot…"
"Yes, you have a lot of books…" Maura points at her backpack, oblivious to the change in her mood. "That's good!"
"No, it's not," Freckles murmurs but then pulls her books closer as if to apologize to them for her verbal betrayal.
And Maura frowns in confusion. "Why not?"
"Girls my age aren't supposed to read that much, I guess," Freckles sighs.
"Says who?"
"Everybody… like Nicki and Ashley and Kaylee…"
"Are those the three girls who left just a minute before you?"
Freckles nods.
"But why do you listen to them? They don't seem to be very smart." Maura supportively nudges the young girl's arm. "They should be listening to you."
"They don't listen to me." Ignoring the medical examiner by her side, Freckles stuffs that last sheet of paper into her backpack. "Nobody does."
Feeling oddly familiar with the young girl's sorrows, Maura searches for words of encouragement, wondering what she should say. That things would magically get better? That the ugly duckling would turn into the beautiful swan? And that the nerdy outcast would one day become queen? But she knows that those are empty promises, and that the only royal title she has ever received is Queen of the Dead. And there are no fairytale books in the girl's backpack either. They both already know that reality doesn't abound with cheesy happy endings. But maybe that doesn't really matter. Maybe it really isn't about being heard but just about finding someone who is willing to listen. Even if it is a bad-tempered Boston-Italian detective or just a stranger on a bench. Patiently, Maura waits until the young girl is done organizing her backpack. "Well…, I am listening to you right now, aren't I?"
"I guess…," Freckles admits hesitantly.
"And you will meet many more people who are interested in what a smart girl like you has to say."
"Really?"
"Yes," Maura smiles. "How do you think I got my job?"
Still not convinced, Freckles shrugs. "Good connections?"
"No, it took a little more than that," Maura chuckles. "And if you would like to dissect people some day, I suggest you keep your nose in your books and ignore what people like Nicki and Ashley and Kaylee say."
"But everybody likes them," Freckles protests. "And they always get invited to everything. I don't…"
And this time, Maura instantly knows what to say. "How about I invite you to your very own special tour of my morgue and our crime lab? And we don't invite anybody else. Only you."
Freckles looks up, and hope flashes over her face. "Can we analyze substances with your gas chromatograph?"
"I think that could be arranged," Maura nods.
"And can I watch you do an autopsy?"
"Maybe…" Maura points at Freckles' backpack. "But only if you promise to keep reading your books."
"Promise!" Freckles declares joyfully.
"Would you like to tell me your name?"
"Lucia."
Maura pulls one of her business cards out of her wallet and hands it to the girl. "I'm Maura, and when you're ready for your special tour, you just give me a call, okay?"
Freckles — or rather Lucia — takes the card and grins in anticipation. "Okay."
And even though the girl's mood is already changing for the better, Maura reaches for her hand to reaffirm her promise. Or maybe she just needs to hear these words herself. "You're not alone, Lucia. You understand?"
Lucia nods again, her freckles dancing on her cheeks as a bright smile spreads across her face.
"Good," Maura sighs contentedly, then looks around. "Is there a school bus to take you home?"
"No, I live just a few blocks away," Lucia says and slings her backpack over her shoulder.
"Okay, but watch where you're going," Maura warns as the girl fishes one of her books out of her backpack to read on her walk home. "I will see you soon then?"
"Yes!" Lucia confirms happily. "Thank you!"
"You're welcome," Maura smiles as the girl strolls away, her steps gradually becoming lighter until she bounces out of sight.
And for a few moments, Maura remains seated on that bench, lets the warm summer sun tickle her skin, pensively watches the hustle and bustle around BPD. But then she remembers her original mission still waiting on her car's passenger seat — the small paper box with the first of several clues that are supposed to lead her to Jane. Eager to solve that puzzle, she hurries to her Prius.
…
After a surprisingly quick ride through the afternoon rush-hour traffic, Maura arrives at Copley Square, conveniently parks her car right at the curb thanks to the CME sticker on her windshield, and marches towards the building where she is expected to ask for her second clue.
Mingling with all the Bostonians and tourists relaxing in the shadows cast by Trinity Church and Hancock Tower, Maura slowly makes her way to the church complex with its clay roof, rough stones, and heavy arches. And finally, she spots the comparatively tiny newsstand to the left of the building's main entrance.
Patiently waiting for an elderly woman to buy her Globe and scuffle away, Maura glances at the first clue in her hand, then hesitantly approaches the newsstand's owner. "Hello, I'm… I've been sent here by Detective Jane Rizzoli. I'd like to—"
"You the doc?" Unable to hide his heavy Boston accent, the middle-aged guy with weather-beaten skin grins through a gap in his teeth.
"Yes, I'm Dr. Isles," Maura confirms.
After curiously checking her out from head to toe, he reveals another small paper box from below his counter, and hands it to her. "She wants me to tell ya to hurry up… because, ya know, she's not exactly patient…"
"I'm aware of that," Maura nods with amusement. "How do you know her?"
"Eh, we go back a while," the guy explains while arranging some loose magazines into a neatly aligned stack. "After some fuckin' punks wrecked my old stand in Roxbury, she helped me set up shop here… Wouldn't have gotten back on my feet without her…" Noticing the proud sparkle in Maura's eyes, he points his thumb at her. "What 'bout you? I've never heard her talk 'bout nobody the way she talked 'bout you…"
Her heart beating a little faster, Maura shifts on her feet. "I'm… We're working together…"
"That's what ya call it these days?" His grin grows even wider.
Trying to avoid a serious case of urticaria, Maura holds up the little paper box. "I should get going. I don't want to make her wait."
"Yeah, you have fun, alright?" The guy waves her goodbye, waits until she is back at her car, then grabs the cell phone lying next to his cash register and sends off his message to a certain detective.
Meanwhile, Maura plops down into the driver's seat of her Prius and opens the newly received paper box. It contains another wrapped piece of paper, which she quickly unfolds to read its message.
Knew you'd figure that one out. And here's your second clue: #28.
You'll find the third clue at 210 smoots. I don't need to say more, do I?
Still love ya, but only if you hurry up!
Jane
And Maura does indeed not need any further hints regarding her next destination. Smiling fondly at the memories the clue brings back, she starts her car and merges with the traffic towards the Charles.
Several traffic lights later, she reaches the Back Bay ramp to the Harvard Bridge and follows a long line of vehicles to Cambridge on the other side of the river. When her Prius passes the spot where she is supposed to pick up her clue but there is not the slightest chance for a spontaneous stop in the middle of the street, she sighs to herself and silently curses all the cars in front, beginning to understand what impatience must feel like to Jane.
Nervously tapping her fingers on the wheel, she takes a deep breath and forces her thoughts into more pleasant directions… back to the day a few weeks ago when she and Jane crossed the bridge during one of their runs… when they slowed down half-way across the river to take in the scenic view… and Jane frowned in confusion at those mysterious marks on the sidewalk… and she couldn't resist to enlighten the detective… and tell her about that MIT fraternity prank from 1958 when the shortest frat member named Oliver Smoot was used like a yardstick to measure the length of the bridge… and how she was still explaining the origin of those smoot marks when Jane suddenly pushed her against the railing and kissed her right at the 210-smoot mark… bringing her lecture on the bridge's history to a sudden but not unwelcome end.
While her thoughts are still circling around their intimate encounter on the Harvard Bridge, Maura finally reaches Cambridge on the other side of the river, parks her Prius in the next best spot, and strides back towards the 210-smoot mark on the eastern sidewalk of the bridge, paying no attention to the traffic nor to the man in shabby clothes leaning inconspicuously against the railing across the street.
When she arrives at the mark after approximately one third of the bridge, she pauses in confusion, wonders where to look for her next clue. Maybe it is taped to the bridge's railing? Eagerly, she lets her fingers slide over the metal — but finds nothing.
Just as she is about to give up, a familiar male voice suddenly hollers cheerfully from behind. "Doctor Vanilla!"
Startled, she turns around and finds Rondo prancing towards her from the other side of the street, grinning like a Cheshire cat, a lollipop clenched between his teeth. She smiles in surprise but fails to withdraw in time to escape his boisterous hug.
Eventually, he lets her go and smirks. "You lookin' for somethin'?"
"I… I am," Maura stutters, still a little overwhelmed. "I suppose it's you I'm looking for?"
"Oh, I wish," Rondo hums in delight but then reaches into his shabby jacket's inside pocket to reveal another tiny paper box. With a chivalrous bow, he offers it to Maura. "But you're lookin' for this!"
Amused, Maura accepts the box from his palm, unsure whether she should open it right away.
When Rondo notices her hesitation, he nudges her elbow with a wink and a smile, almost bursting with the desire to reveal a big secret. "Detective Vanilla has some nice plans for you tonight…"
"What kind of plans?" Maura's interest is definitely piqued.
But Jane's confidential informant just shrugs. "I'm not allowed to say, but you should get that fine ass of yours movin'…"
"But what about you?" Maura invitingly holds up her car keys. "Do you need a ride? I can—"
"Oh, no, no," Rondo instantly waves away the suggestion. "Don't worry about good ol' Rondo. I'll be fiiine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, suuure," he grins. "Now go 'n get yourself some sweet luvin'!" Without allowing any protest, he shoos Maura towards the Cambridge side of the Charles. When she still hesitates after a few steps and turns back around, he sends her a semi-serious warning glare until she finally hurries away.
Once back inside her Prius, Maura unfolds her next clue, wondering how many more of those she will have to find.
I hope Rondo didn't get too touchy-feely there… Anyway, your third clue is: Road.
You know how you always force me to watch those stupid documentaries and then complain when I don't remember every fricking detail? Let's see if you can do better.
Two weeks ago, we watched Good Will Hunting, and for some reason, I have a hunch that you don't remember much about it because… well, you know why. Thing is, if you want to find your last clue, you'd better remember where the character of Sean Maguire was working. And no Google, sweetie! You know I'll find out…
When you're at that location, look for the kid in the blue sweater.
And if you can't remember, all you have to do is gimme a call and promise you'll never nag me about your documentaries again. I think that's a fair deal…
So… I'm waiting…
Oh, and I love ya.
Jane
Scrunching her nose, Maura skims Jane's message again but realizes that this one is beyond her knowledge — if only she had paid more attention to that movie instead of spending the better part of those two hours kissing Jane's arms and her neck and her lips…
Unwilling to surrender this easily, Maura contemplates her options. Maybe she could ask Rondo for help… or figure out Jane's location without that last clue… or just—
But suddenly, when her eyes fly over Jane's instructions again, she knows exactly how to solve her dilemma without breaking the rules or causing a betraying urticaria attack. A victorious smile spreads over her face as she reaches for her phone and lets her fingers slide over its display.
…
Fourteen minutes later, Maura arrives at her next destination and parks her Prius right in front of the main building of Bunker Hill Community College in Charlestown. And even though she enjoys all those little challenges for her brain, the yearning of her heart for the creator of this game is getting harder to ignore.
Luckily, it doesn't take her too long until she spots a kid in a blue sweater, who is impatiently tapping his foot against a balustrade and checking his watch.
As soon as he notices her, the teenager gets up and nods casually. "Yo, Doc. Got somethin' for ya." He reaches into his pocket, then smoothly tosses another paper box into her hands.
"You're Jarrod, right?" Maura asks as she recognizes him from Jane's neighborhood.
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles and grabs a skateboard next to him. "But I'm in a hurry.. Gotta bounce. See ya!" Without waiting for a response, he hops onto his board and whooshes away.
Reminding herself to watch Good Will Hunting again, Maura casts one last glance at the college building before rushing back to her car while already unwrapping the paper box on her way. When she reaches her Prius, she leans against the door and reads her newest clue.
You're so close… Last clue: It's a document that we, the people, consider pretty important…
Now, put all clues together and you'll know where to find me.
And did I mention you'd better hurry? I'm probably starving by now…
But I still love ya.
Jane
Starving herself and eager to finally solve the puzzle, Maura gets into her car and gathers the other clues from her passenger seat. She snatches a pen from the glove compartment and scribbles all hints onto the back of the last piece of paper, effortlessly figuring out the last clue in the process.
G67 #28 ROAD CONSTITUTION
As soon as the clues' secret message is revealed, she reaches for her cell phone, quickly enters her destination into its GPS app, then starts the car and speeds off.
…
And finally, when it's almost 7 p.m. and the sun is already beginning its descent, Maura arrives at #28 Constitution Road, not too far away from Bunker Hill Community College, and parks her Prius in a spacious lot right next to the Constitution Marina. Filled with desire not just for food, she snatches her purse, her keys, and the piece of paper with all of her clues before locking her car and curiously approaching the private harbor.
Not quite sure yet where her last clue might lead her, she heads straight for the main entrance to search for a map of the premises. Trying to ignore the enticing wafts of grilled chicken and roasted steak from a cheerful group of boat owners gathered for a barbecue on the registration office's deck, Maura scans her surroundings until she spots a detailed plan with the numbering scheme for several dozens of single boat slips. When she finds the one marked with a bold G67, she memorizes its location and hurries to the main pier, passes numerous yachts and smaller boats tied to the wooden pilings that hold them in place, then struts down a narrower landing stage at the far end of the marina. Nervously checking her watch, she waits for an elderly couple to heave an oversized cooling box off of their boat, eventually manages to scrape by, and finally smiles in anticipation when slip #G67 comes into sight.
Switching into a casual stroll as she approaches the Mandarin 52 awaiting her, Maura marvels at the yacht's 52-foot-long pearly-white hull, its 56-foot-tall mast with currently furled-up sails, and its streamlined pilothouse — until her eyes land on a very familiar detective slouching in a camping chair on the fore deck, dressed in a softball shirt and washed-out shorts with her hair tied back under a baseball cap, cool drink in hand and clearly enjoying the evening sun.
When the unmistakable clacking of Maura's heels stops right next to the yacht, Jane casually looks over and smirks. "What took you so long?"
"Traffic…," Maura smiles back, waiting to be let on board.
But Jane seems determined to tease her a little longer, takes all the time in the world to get up, and plods to the starboard side of the boat. "It was the third clue, wasn't it? That movie tripped you up!"
"No, not really," Maura denies utterly unimpressed. "That one was rather easy."
And Jane frowns. Clearly, this isn't the answer she expected. Warily, she squints down at her visitor from her vantage point on deck. "You did use Google, didn't you?!"
"I did not," Maura objects confidently.
"But you can't possibly remember that…" Confusion about the unexpected failure of her plan fills the detective's face. "How did you figure it out?"
And if it wasn't for the emptiness in her stomach, Maura would probably keep her in suspense a little longer. "Well, there are other search engines besides Google…"
"You cheated!"
"I did not cheat," Maura protests and ignores Jane's admonishing stare. "You instructed me not to use Google, and I did not."
Obviously annoyed about missing her chance to get rid of those darn documentaries, Jane rolls her eyes. "You know damn well what I meant."
And as the brunette is still muttering to herself while unhinging a small gate between the life rails, all Maura can do is try her best to keep a victorious smile from spreading over her face. "Just be more precise with your instructions next time."
"Who said there was going to be a next time?" Jane grumbles with feigned irritation.
When the gate and a four-step ladder are finally in position, Maura steps closer, expecting to be helped on board.
"Uh uh!" Jane instantly holds up her hand like a stop sign. "You need to pass the final threshold."
"And how do I do that?" Even though the prospect of another challenge piques Maura's interest, a certain frustration about being kept away from her goal makes itself felt.
"It's simple," Jane smirks. "You just need to answer one final question."
"I'm listening…"
And now it is Jane who is brimming with confidence of her victory. "Which of the muffins was better?"
With a spontaneous laugh, Maura averts her eyes. Those dreaded muffins again…
"Weeell…?"
Realizing that there is no other way, Maura grudgingly surrenders. "Your chocolate muffin, okay?"
Visibly pleased, Jane waits and peeks at Maura's skin just above the neckline of her dress, eyebrows raised, waiting for any signs of hives. There are none. "Aaand we have a winner!"
Maura chuckles, reaches for Jane's outstretched hand, and finally joins her on the yacht.
"Welcome aboard!" the brunette grins.
As soon as Jane has pulled up the ladder and secured the gate again, Maura doesn't waste any more time and locks her into her arms.
"Well, hello there," Jane welcomes her advance. "How was your day?"
"Long…" Maura snatches the baseball cap off of her head. "Would you like some precise instructions for your next moves?"
"Nah, I'm good." Without hesitation, Jane proves that there is no need for further instructions.
And as Maura finally feels her partner's lips on her own, after four long days of separation, gentle kisses soon turn into a passionate reunion of their tongues, leaving them both out of breath and wrapping them in a warm sense of being back home.
But eventually, curiosity wins over Maura's other needs, and she pulls back, lets her eyes wander over their surroundings. "So, why are we on a boat? And whose boat is it?"
"Belongs to one of Korsak's sailing buddies," Jane murmurs while leaving a trail of kisses down the blonde's neck. "We have it all weekend…"
"To do… what… exactly?" Maura tries to focus as Jane's lips travel over her shoulder.
"Things…"
"We do things all the time at home…"
"Slightly different things…"
"Like what?"
With a quiet sigh, Jane places one last kiss on Maura's shoulder. "Well, Miss I'm-Always-So-Patient, why don't you take a look around first?" Without allowing any protest, she grabs the blonde's hand and leads her to the boat's stern and to a U-shaped seating area right behind the pilothouse entrance.
"First stop on our tour: the seating area. Ta-dah!" Jane grandiloquently waves her hand at the cushioned seats. "Coming up next: the interior." She climbs over the seats and turns to the pilothouse — where her tall figure and the low door frame collide with a loud thud. "SONOFA—!"
"Are you alright?" Maura worriedly follows her into the pilothouse.
"Yeah, yeah," Jane mumbles and more carefully descends the wooden circular stairs into the belly of the boat. "Happened only for the fifth time. I'm sure there are some unbruised spots left on my forehead."
While Jane is still rubbing her head, Maura curiously inspects the boat's interior — its surprisingly spacious lounge right at the bottom of the stairs, its 10-foot-long galley equipped even with stove, oven, and fridge, as well as its two cabins at opposite ends.
"The stateroom over there also has a shower," Jane says and points at the cabin in the back of the yacht. "And I brought some of your clothes, too…"
Impressed but insufficiently informed, Maura leans close to the brunette. "I still don't know why we're here…"
"Good! For once, I know something you don't!" Immune to the blonde's tactics, Jane pecks her on the cheek. "Just go and freshen up or take a nap or whatever. I need to prepare a few things."
"Fine…," Maura concedes with a pout and pads to the stateroom, where she finds some of her clothes neatly folded right next to a bag with Jane's tangled T-shirts and pants on the queen-size bed. Deciding that the detective's refusal to provide more clues certainly warrants some visual protest, she steals one of her grey BPD shirts and a pair of her own yoga pants, then sneaks into the master head adjacent to the bedroom.
…
A little while later, Maura returns to the bedroom, sporting Jane's shirt and her own pants, with her hair still a little damp and a relaxed smile gracing her face. Wondering whether she is expected to wait for a formal invitation, she paces the narrow aisle next to the bed, but when the alluring scent of warm dinner being prepared tingles her nose, she abandons her patience and peeks through the door. However, the galley is unattended, and except for some crumpled-up paper and aluminum foil, there are no signs of any gastronomic activities.
Following the instincts of her grumbling stomach, Maura climbs up the wooden stairs to the pilothouse, where she finds the small table next to a cushioned corner booth filled with two covered plates of food, two wine glasses, and two more of those ridiculously delicious chocolate muffins. She shakes her head in amusement before turning her attention to Jane, who is battling an apparently insubordinate cork of a bottle of wine.
When the cork finally surrenders to the combined forces of a tiny corkscrew and a rather thirsty Jane, she clenches her fist in triumph but then notices Maura — and the shirt she is wearing. "Uh, don't expect me to wear your clothes while you're wearingmine."
Briefly considering the thought but discarding it in order not to burst into laughter, Maura instead hands one of the wine glasses to Jane.
Secretively concealing the bottle's label, Jane pours her some white wine. "Now, hopefully all those endless wine tasting sessions weren't in vain…"
Accepting the half-filled glass and the challenge, Maura sips the saturated golden liquid and playfully lets it linger in her mouth until Jane's expectantly arched eyebrows can't possibly rise any further. "White wine. It's definitely white wine."
"You don't say?!" Jane growls. "Come on, I'm serious. Impress me."
After getting her glass refilled, Maura tastes the wine again.
"And…?" Jane's patience is vanishing as quickly as the contents of the bottle.
Pursing her lips, Maura holds out her glass for another sample.
But suddenly, Jane frowns in suspicion and withholds the bottle. "Wait, are you just trying to get more wine?!"
"Nooo," Maura denies though the twitching corners of her mouth say otherwise.
"Okay, no more wine for you until you've figured it out!" Resolutely, Jane hides the bottle behind her back.
Without taking another sip, Maura gives up her charade. "It's a Chardonnay… I'm going to say France… a Chablis Grand Cru maybe?"
Trying to keep a straight face, Jane glances at the bottle's label. "And which vintage?"
"I can't possibly know that!"
"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking every single time when you spout some of your fun facts!"
When Jane still refuses to hand over the bottle, Maura bites her lip in hesitation. "Well… 2010?"
"Oh my God, did you just guess?!" Jane feigns a face of horror.
"Just let me see!" Maura insistently clutches at the bottle.
"No, no!" Jane stumbles backward, out of the pilothouse, to escape Maura's reach. "You didn't earn it!"
Rolling her eyes at the pointless prolonging of the inevitable, Maura determinedly steps closer.
"Hey, I said no," Jane complains and retreats further until her calves bump against the seating area, leaving her without a chance to escape.
And it takes just one more step forward from Maura for Jane to tumble backward and to plop down on the cushions, the bottle of wine still firmly grasped in her hand.
"You're not playing fair," she whines as Maura climbs on top of her.
"Neither do you."
But any further debate on the fairness of their play is postponed when both involved parties unanimously agree on a tie, sealing their temporary truce with another fervent kiss.
As their lips finally part, Jane meekly holds up the bottle of Chablis. "Want some wine?"
"If you insist…," Maura smirks victoriously, takes the bottle, and pours herself another glass. And a quick glance at the label of the 2007 Joseph Drouhin Chablis Grand Cru confirms how close she was. Noting with delight that Jane apparently didn't just pick the next best bottle off the supermarket shelf, she savors the rich fruity wine, then teasingly looks at the brunette still trapped under her legs. "Now, about my other question…"
"What other question?" Jane pipes up innocently.
"What are we doing on this boat?" Maura reminds her and puts down her empty glass.
Playfully running her fingers up and down the blonde's thighs, Jane shrugs and nods towards the plates still hidden under aluminum foil. "How about we eat first, and then I tell you?"
"How about you tell me now?" Despite her hungry stomach seriously considering her other organs as a provisional snack, Maura enjoys their back-and-forth too much to give in. "And the sooner you do that, the sooner we can eat."
"I guess we'll be starving to death then…" Jane challengingly continues her caresses.
"I don't think so," Maura purrs as she leans closer, pins Jane's hands to the cushions under her head, and begins to breathe gentle kisses onto her neck, up to her ear, all the way to that one sensitive spot that she has leveraged so often before to get her will. Sometimes, it's almost too easy. "So, what about this boat?" Questioningly, she hovers above Jane, their faces only inches apart.
"Well…," the brunette murmurs, her resistance melting away. "I've been thinking about what to get you, but you kinda already have everything. Like, really, everything! You even have a book with turtle recipes! Seriously, who in the world has something like that?!"
Chuckling into the crook of Jane's neck, Maura resumes her investigative routine. "Get to the point…"
But Jane isn't exactly unaware of the blonde's strategy, and so she just waits a little longer, indulges in her tender touches until they stop again. "The point is, there's one thing you don't have, and that's some nice memories… I mean, given the way you grew up and how most people treated you, it's just—… You just don't have the kind of memories that you deserve to have…"
Sensing the sudden seriousness in her tone, Maura subconsciously entwines her fingers with Jane's.
"So… I know you like the ocean," the brunette continues under her gaze. "And for now, this boat is as close as I could get us, but if you want to, Korsak and his buddy will come here tomorrow and take us out to the sea… And there are a few other things we could do, but I'm not gonna spoil everything… You think you can keep your curiosity under control for a little bit longer?"
"I suppose…," Maura nods, pensively playing with Jane's hands.
"Basically, I just… I guess, instead of some crappy gift from the store, I want to give you some nice memories… you know, some moments that are just about you."
But in response, Maura abruptly turns away, reaches for her glass and the bottle, and pours herself more wine.
Worried that she might have triggered some buried emotions, Jane sits up as well. "What? What is it?"
"Nothing," Maura whispers before gulping down her wine, but her eyes give her away.
"Uh, you're gonna cry, aren't you?" Jane tries to prevent the inevitable.
"No, I won't," Maura promises, though she has lost the battle with her amygdala already.
"Oh yes, you will…," Jane chuckles and nudges her shoulder, all in good fun. "Here it comes, the flood gates are open…"
Trying to compose herself, Maura blinks away a tear. "Well, it's all your fault…"
"Maybe you should hang your head over the rail," Jane suggests with a smirk. "You know, before we get too much water in the boat…"
"Shut up!" Maura laughs while still fighting back her tears. "Or I'll tell Korsak and all of your colleagues what a hopeless romantic you are."
"Don't you dare!" Jane warns indignantly, but when Maura wipes another tear from the corner of her eye, she scoots closer and wraps the blonde into her arms. "So… do you wanna spend the weekend on this boat… with me?"
Sniffing away the last efforts of her lacrimal glands, Maura points at the still covered plates on the table a few feet away. "Depends on what kind of food you have hidden there…"
Enthusiastically, Jane leaps to her feet, barely avoids another collusion with the pilothouse door, and peels off the aluminum foil from one of the plates to reveal a carefully arranged main course of creamy pasta and tender rose salmon.
And it definitely finds Maura's approval. "Is that from Chef Maurice?"
"Yup," the brunette nods and removes the foil from the second plate, which holds a similar arrangement of salmon with rice. "One of his sous-chefs is on stand-by, so whenever you're hungry, we just have to give him a call."
Drawn to the pilothouse for a variety of reasons, Maura joins Jane at the table, waits for her to pour them both some more wine, then softly squeezes her arm. "You didn't have to do all of this…"
"I know… but I wanted to." Jane pulls her closer, confirms it with an affectionate kiss, then raises her wine. "To you."
"To us," Maura smiles as they clink glasses.
…
As the day is slowly nearing its end, the pilothouse is illuminated only by the golden glow of a lamp under deck. And on the table next to the corner booth, empty plates mingle with torn pieces of aluminum foil, an empty bottle of expensive Chablis, and a myriad of muffin crumbs scattered all over the tabletop.
Right outside the pilothouse doors, the darkness of the warm summer night is broken by half a dozen tea lights flickering in different spots in the boat's stern and casting dancing shadows on the faces of the two women snuggled up to each other on the long side of the U-shaped seating area.
Sipping on a glass of white wine from another almost empty bottle, Maura has squeezed herself comfortably between Jane's legs, leaning back against the woman behind her, wrapped into the brunette's arms that hold her tight and prevent her from sliding off the rather narrow seat.
But while Jane has dozed off with her cheeks flushed from her buzz and a content smile playing on her lips, Maura is still wide awake. And as she is pensively staring into the night, neither the twinkling lights of Boston's skyline in the distance nor the sounds of the gentle ocean waves washing against the yacht nor the steady rhythm of Jane's breathing against the skin of her neck really register with her mind. Because everything is perfect. But perfection is fragile and fleeting, and too often it ends with the shot of a gun. At least in her world.
Inevitably, her thoughts return to Lindsay O'Malley, to her cold and lifeless body, to the sense of loss and defeat in her sergeant's eyes, and to the people she leaves behind.
Emboldened by the wine in her veins, Maura puts down her empty glass and sits up, her movement waking Jane from her slumber.
"I don't remember allowing you to get up…," the brunette complains with sleepy eyes as she reaches for her hand and tries to pull her back down.
But Maura leans her shoulder against the back of the seats instead, rests her chin on Jane's cocked leg. "Do you still want to hear about that woman I had on my table today?"
Sensing the somberness in her voice, Jane encloses the blonde's hand in her own. "You mean the cop?"
"How do you know?"
"My CI told me…"
"So, Susie did call you?"
"Nooo…," Jane denies but instantly fesses up when faced with Maura's inquisitive stare. "She sent a text."
"I think I liked her better when she was still afraid of you…" But even though she briefly considers confiscating Susie's phone, Maura knows that her senior criminalist only has her best interests in mind. And she is thankful for that.
"So, what about that woman? Which unit was she from?"
"A senior detective from South Boston…," Maura says but then pauses once more until she feels Jane softly squeezing her hand, encouraging her to talk. "It could have been you…"
"But it wasn't…" Jane soothingly runs her thumb over the back of the blonde's hand.
"She was on undercover assignment, and, as you would say, she got made." Images of the dead woman flash up in Maura's mind again, and she clings tighter to Jane's leg, breathes a kiss onto her knee. "They shot her five times… First in her kneecaps so she couldn't run, then in her shoulders… and then one final bullet in her head."
Her eyes filled with concern, but not for herself, Jane sits up and leans closer to the blonde. "I'm not doing any more UC assignments…"
"I know," Maura nods quietly. "But still… It can happen so fast… And it doesn't even have to be on the job… I mean, the way we lost Detective Frost…"
For a few moments, heavy silence engulfs them as they both stare into the distance, their hearts aching with memories of their friend.
"There is this verse in a poem by Alfred Tennyson," Maura eventually continues. "He writes, 'it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all…' I used to agree with that, but now…" She hesitates, unsure whether to give voice to her doubt. "Sometimes I'm not so sure about it anymore…"
And when Jane pulls her into her arms and softly kisses her cheek, it makes it even harder to ignore how much she could lose.
"Anything I can do?" the brunette whispers into their embrace.
Drawing strength from their nearness, Maura turns to the woman at her side. "Promise you won't get yourself killed?"
"That's the plan," Jane smiles.
"I'm serious."
"So am I. You won't get rid of me any time soon."
"Promise?"
"Promise. Scout's honor." As if to affirm her pledge, Jane leans in for another kiss, warm and affectionate at first, but then turning more playful. "And I agree with that poem…"
"You do?" Curiosity replaces the somberness in Maura's voice.
"Yup…" Teasingly, Jane's lips wander over familiar territory. "I wouldn't wanna miss any of this…" A soft kiss lands on Maura's cheek. "Or this…" Another kiss finds its way close to her ear. "And this…" But when she feels Maura relax in her arms, Jane turns more serious again and locks eyes with the blonde. "And maybe, in the grand scheme of things, we'll only share a few moments… But we'd be pretty stupid not to make the best of them, don't you think?"
Letting Jane's continued caresses convince her of the validity of her argument, Maura gives in to the lure of the moment. "And I suppose you have some ideas for how we could do that?"
"Believe it or not, I do!" Grinning broadly, Jane pecks her on the cheek and springs to her feet. "Be right back!"
Without waiting for a response, she bounces to the pilothouse, gleefully high-fives the door frame when she barely avoids another collusion, then disappears inside, mumbling about the design considerations of shipbuilders.
Remaining behind by herself, with her skin still tingling from the touch of Jane's lips, Maura stifles a yawn, stretches her arms, and gets up as well. She carefully climbs over the seats to the boat's port side, leans against the rail, and quietly admires Boston's skyscrapers standing tall in the dark. And as she deeply inhales the fresh smell of the ocean, a sense of perfection once again fills her heart. And she knows it won't last. But maybe that's not the point… Maybe Jane was right, and the notion of perpetual perfection is flawed… Maybe it's just about moments, and memories, and making the best of the here and now…
Suddenly, the rather imperfect noises of a certain detective stomping under deck followed by a loud thud and an even louder "Oww!" rip Maura from her thoughts. Before she gets a chance to worry and hurry inside, Jane emerges in the door frame, carrying a new bottle of wine and a box of chocolates in one hand while rubbing her head with her other.
"I'm not made for boats," she whines as she hands Maura the chocolates and the wine in exchange for a sympathetic but slightly amused smile. "Could you open that? I need to prepare something else…"
"But try not to go overboard," Maura chuckles as Jane carefully teeters out of sight towards the boat's bow.
A few minutes later, she returns, grabs their two wine glasses and two of the tea lights, blows out the other ones, and signals Maura to follow her.
When they reach the yacht's spacious fore deck, Maura tilts her head in surprise at the sight of a make-shift sleeping spot with blankets and pillows.
"Okay, don't get all watery-eyed again — it's not as cheesy as it looks," Jane warns preemptively and points up at the sky. "It's just that it's August, and there's supposed to be some meteor storm going on up there and—"
"The Perseids…," Maura adds habitually.
"Yes, that one, smarty-pants." Jane puts the tea lights and glasses down. "So, I figured, since we're here anyway, we might as well watch that."
"Like I said: hopeless romantic," Maura teases as the brunette takes the wine and chocolates from her hands.
"No!" Jane protests a little too fast. "But it's still warm outside… And if I try to sleep under deck in that closet of a bedroom, I'd probably wake up all bruised and whacked. So… might as well sleep up here…"
"Well, if it's just a matter of convenience, you surely won't mind if I sleep under deck, will you?" Maura winks victoriously and strolls to the rail to enjoy the view of Boston's skyline a little longer.
"Uh… but…" Pouting her lips, Jane closes the distance between them, steps behind the blonde, alluringly whispers into her ear. "I got wine and chocolates up here…"
Willing to negotiate, Maura turns around and teasingly plays with the fabric of the brunette's shirt. "How about I'll sleep up here if you concede that you're not as bad-ass as you always pretend to be?"
Eyebrow shooting up in disbelief, Jane locks Maura between herself and the rail. "How about I just throw you overboard? The cold water might help you come to your senses…"
"You wouldn't dare…"
"Try me!"
Without warning, Jane sweeps Maura off her feet and lifts her up against the rail but still holds her close in her arms.
"Jane! No!" Instinctively, Maura clings tight to her friendly foe.
"So, shall we discuss our sleeping arrangements again?" Jane grins and pointedly leans towards the water.
"Okay, okay," Maura whimpers playfully. "I'll sleep up here."
"Are you sure?" Thoroughly enjoying her position for various reasons, Jane still doesn't move back. "I mean, it's totally up to you…"
"Yes, I am sure," Maura chuckles helplessly. "Now, let me down!"
Sealing her victory with a smooch on Maura's cheek, Jane finally lets her down and swaggers back to their sleeping spot.
"But you're still a hopeless romantic!"
"What?"
"Nothing…" With her most innocent smile, Maura plops down in her half of the arrangement of pillows and blankets.
Having achieved her goal, Jane makes herself comfortable in the other half of their spot, rips open the box of chocolates, and greedily pops two pieces into her mouth.
After snatching a piece for herself before it's too late, Maura fills both their glasses with wine, takes a long sip and lies down on her back. And much to her approval, Jane eagerly follows her lead and huddles up against her shoulder.
And for a little while, they just enjoy their nearness, eyes facing the starry sky above, while the distant noise of the city and the occasional laughter from a boat in another part of the marina echo through the night.
But the longer they wait, the more often Jane reaches for her wine or another piece of chocolate. And though she lies back down each time, Maura can't help but notice her impatiently twiddling her thumbs. "You do know that the peak of the Perseids shower won't occur for another five days, do you?"
"Uh, yeah, I read that somewhere…," Jane murmurs.
"It might take a while before we get to see some shooting stars…"
"Well, I'm not in a hurry."
"Tell that to your thumbs," Maura chuckles.
Caught in the act, Jane's thumbs instantly halt their restless motion. "It's just because they don't have anything else to play with…"
Taking the hint, Maura wordlessly offers her hand and instantly finds it enclosed in Jane's, lean fingers tickling her palm.
"While we're waiting — why don't you tell me some fun facts about those stars?" Jane peeks at Maura. "Come on, I know you want to."
"Hmm," the blonde hums with delight. "What would you like to know?"
"Nothing too sciency," Jane decides. "Tell me something cool."
Frowning at the request, Maura lets her eyes wander over the night sky until something catches her attention. "Oh, you'll like that one!" She points at a constellation near the North Star. "See those five stars over there? The ones that look like a W?"
"Yup." Jane's eyes follow the direction of Maura's finger. "Cassiopeia, right?"
"Yes, very good!" Maura confirms proudly. "However, that name is only used by Western astronomers. The Chinese, for example, have their own constellations, just like they have their own zodiac signs. And some of the stars forming our Cassiopeia lie in an area that the Chinese call the Black Tortoise."
"You're just making that up!" Jane chuckles, eyes still looking skyward.
"I am not," Maura objects factually. "It's one of the four symbols in the Chinese constellations."
Trying to keep a straight face, Jane turns to Maura. "So, all those times I found Bass sleepwalking through your house and staring out the windows, he maybe just wanted to admire that big-ass turtle in the sky?"
"Maybe," Maura admits with amusement, keeping to herself that the constellation is indeed referred to as the Black Turtle, and that at least this time, Jane's attempt to tease her comes to nothing.
But neither of them really cares, and they both smile to themselves as they turn their eyes back to the sky.
"It is rather fascinating, if you think about it," Maura muses eventually. "The light of these stars takes years to reach Earth. So, when we look up there, we're essentially looking into the past."
Fascination of a different kind written all over Jane's face, she studies the woman at her side, silently admires her features in the glow of the candle lights. "I'm more interested in the future, actually…"
Unaware of Jane's affectionate eyes on her, Maura is still fascinated by the vastness above. "And some of these stars may not even exist anymore… Not the ones you can see with the naked eye, but some of the other ones… They're already gone, and yet, their light still shines on. It's… comforting to know."
And for a few moments, they each cling to that which provides comfort at night.
When Maura realizes that there hasn't been a single quip from Jane, she finally turns her head.
"I love you," Jane whispers as their eyes meet.
Running her thumb over Jane's fingers still linked with her own, Maura hesitates for a heartbeat or two. But she has no doubt. "I love you, too."
And even though the moment is not destined to last, they both make the most of it, lost in each other's eyes and listening to the unison beat of their hearts.
Only when the droning sound of a plane taking off from Logan finally breaks the spell does Jane turn back to the sky, her fingers still tickling Maura's palm and her wrist. "We should keep an eye on those shooting stars, so you can make your wish…"
Maura hums in agreement and sleepily looks at those stars while scooting a little closer to Jane.
And for a while, they're silent again… until…
"Jane?"
"Yes?"
Curiously, Maura peeks at the brunette. "When you were planning all of this, were you hoping that it would somehow end with us having sex?"
"Uh… nooo…?" Jane grimaces at the unconvincingness of her feeble response.
"Hmm, that's too bad," Maura murmurs and pointedly focuses her attention back on the sky. "I would have been up for that."
Almost faster than the speed of light, Jane's head jerks to the woman at her side, who firmly keeps her eyes on the stars.
And Maura lets her wait a little longer… thoroughly enjoying her revenge for her involuntary encounter with the ship's rail half an hour ago. But eventually, she gives in and grins at an impatiently glaring Jane. "I believe that was your cue, Detective…"
"Geez, woman!" Jane sighs in relief. And without waiting for a second invitation, she rolls over, slides her body on top of Maura's, and playfully nuzzles into her neck until they both chortle with joy.
But after a few rounds of tickling and teasing, Jane pauses and locks eyes with Maura, gently caressing her cheeks. "Just to be clear, with or without sex, I would've done all of this anyway."
"I know." Maura smiles at the familiar touch of Jane's fingertips wiping a strand of hair from her face.
After another moment of mutual admiration, Jane places a soft kiss on her partner's lips. "Happy birthday, Maura."
And as their bodies merge and their kisses deepen, Maura knows that she wouldn't want to miss any of this. No matter how short-lived it may be. Because while she may have been able to recite all the bones and the hormones and the chemical processes of the human body, one thing has always eluded her. But now that she is embraced by Jane's love, she understands. And with every touch of their hands, with every affectionate kiss, Maura finally feels it. She finally feels loved.
And as the two women share their love in the still of the night, one shooting star after another unnoticedly zooms across the sky. But it does not matter, because on this warm seventh night of August, Maura's wish has already come true.
…
THE END