Maura lengthened her stride slightly to keep pace with Jane. "Are you sure you want to go this far today?"
They rounded a corner and jogged into the park. Maura realized that she paid significantly less attention to her surroundings when Jane was at her side. But there was something about the subtle change in the gritty sound of sneaker soles impacting asphalt that never failed to alert Maura to the change of scenery.
Jane huffed in between steady breaths. "My ankle's fine now, Maura. It'll hold." The untrained ear would fail to catch the note of tender amusement beneath the irritation and bravado. But Maura had years of practice in the art of discerning Jane's many nuanced vocal inflections. One glance to her left won her a flicker of that gentle, indulgent smile that she'd come to depend on. Maura postulated that she'd come as close as she ever would to confirming her long-standing suspicion: Jane secretly cherished Maura's endless litany of concerns for the detective's health and safety.
Jane snuck a peek at Maura, amused smile morphing into a devious grin.
Wary of what mischief her friend might be concocting, Maura's eyebrows drew together even as she cautiously returned that winsome smile.
The rhythm of Jane's stride shifted slightly. "I'm on to you, Doctor."
"What could you possibly have to suspect me of, Jane?"
Jane turned her gaze to the fork in the trail ahead of them. "You're not worried about my ankle at all."
Before Maura could be affronted and argue to the contrary, Jane had launched into a hearty sprint down the lane that led into the trees, ponytail bouncing. She shouted over her shoulder, "You're just afraid if I decided to really run, you wouldn't be able to keep up!"
"Jane!" Maura mock-whined. "That's not fair!" She chased after Jane, feeling the endorphins begin to flow as she entered the shade of the tree-lined path. She was fully grinning by the time she caught up with Jane.
They maintained their brisk pace for several more strides before Jane made an executive decision and pulled back. The decrease in speed happened more suddenly than Maura anticipated, and she overshot Jane by a few steps before she got her momentum in check. When she turned around, Jane was leaning over, appearing to reach for her recently healed ankle.
"You shouldn't have gone so far, or so fast," Maura admonished softly as she approached.
Jane immediately straightened. Hands moved to slender hips and her brows narrowed at the medical examiner. "Maura, I told you, it's fine."
Maura tried not to stare too obviously at Jane's posture – her left knee bent slightly to compensate for weakness in the ankle. "And I was – am – inclined to disregard your claims of a sound talofibular ligament." Maura mirrored the detective's defensive stance, arms akimbo. "And judging by the unequal distribution of weight in your current posture, I think it's fair to say I'm –"
"It's my ankle, Maura! I think I'd know!" Jane's voice was pitched with rising frustration.
"I agree," Maura said, disarming the detective with her concurrence and earnest eye contact. "I think you do know, and if you actually heeded the subtle pain signals your ankle has been sending your brain since we started this run, you would not have taken off like you did just then. Nor would you have pushed yourself to cover the distance that we've already come. I would've been much more comfortable with you stopping closer to halfway through our route. But you decided to be obstinate, and –"
Jane flapped her hand in exasperation. "Okay, okay, Maura. I get it!" She conceded further by acknowledging the pain in her ankle, doubling over to gingerly massage it. After a moment, she shot an irate glare up at the medical examiner. "If you would've been happy stopping halfway through, why didn't you pipe up?"
"Would you have listened?" Maura cocked a skeptical brow at her.
"Yes!" Maura's eyebrow rose even higher. "No," Jane amended, hanging her head. "Point taken," she mumbled.
Satisfied, Maura let her off the hook. She leaned down and touched Jane's elbow. "Can you walk back?"
An exasperated sigh came in response. "Yes, I can walk." At least this time Jane refrained from insisting she was "fine."
Maura's hand traveled to her upper arm and stayed there as they turned around and began to retrace their route. After a few minutes, Jane folded her arms and rested her hand on top of Maura's. The medical examiner suppressed a smile. "I still don't fully grasp why you do this to yourself."
Jane frowned quizzically, but rather than question, she let Maura elaborate in her own time.
"Why you push into things when you're not ready. When you clearly know the circumstances obviously aren't right for the choice you're making. Sometimes I think I understand – at least in part. But other times…Jane, you're still so…"
Picking up where she trailed off, Jane concluded ruefully, "Deceptively complex?"
Laughter sprung naturally from Maura's throat as Jane finished the sentence for her, quoting the medical examiner's own words, from years ago, back to her.
Standing in the wings of the chapel, bouquet in hand, Maura very deliberately shook herself from her reverie. The seemingly terminal wait for the procession to begin had opened the door for her mind to wander through the archives of Jane-related memories. After all, they comprised her best and most extensive set of recollections.
Hearing the processional music begin, Maura couldn't help but note that particular memory was almost a year old now. Yet her puzzlement over Jane's modus operandi remained mostly the same. Yes, over the years Maura had accrued a vast catalogue of observational data in her personal case study of Jane Rizzoli. Many previously dubious character traits and behavioral tendencies had come to be explained as Maura learned more about the detective's past. She came to understand certain intricacies of the detective's personality even better than members of Jane's own family. A pattern of logic, unique to Jane, continued to reveal itself with time.
But always, certain pieces of the pattern would turn up missing. Much to Maura's dismay, the logic would fail, and the scientist in her was left at a loss. "Now for the hitch in Jane's character," she thought, unexpectedly quoting Charlotte Bronte to herself. "I still don't fully grasp why you do this to yourself. Why you push into things when you're not ready. When you clearly know the circumstances aren't right for the choice you're making." She sighed, glancing down one last time at the lovely bouquet in her hands – red and white roses – and prepared to step out into the aisle and await her best friend at the altar. I may have been referring to her decision-making process in the context of her physical recklessness, Maura thought, reviewing the memory one last time, but to all intents and purposes, I think she and I both knew, if only at a subconscious level, that there were much more complex and abstract relational issues on the table that day. And all the signs pointed to Jane sliding down into that same trap she always laid for herself. Taking another impetuous plunge into what Maura's logic was forecasting as an ill-fated chapter of her life. And still Maura wondered, even as she stepped into the aisle, smiling for the congregation, Why does she do this?