Jane pressed back into the headrest of the passenger seat, still trying to adjust to letting someone else drive. Her hand rested comfortably over her husband's, atop the gear shift. He smiled over at her for a moment, and she returned the expression with a sleepy grin of her own. The flight back from the Hawaiian islands had been long, and they were both tired. She closed her eyes, lulled by the rhythmic ticking of the turn signal as Casey changed lanes.
I'm happy, she thought, marveling at the novelty of the idea. This was a decent vacation, and I actually feel okay right now. Content. "This is good."
"What's that, babe?"
Jane opened her eyes. Squeezed his hand. "This. This is nice."
He chuckled softly. "I'm glad you're happy." As he drew the car to a stop at a traffic light, he leaned over and kissed her. "I love you," he said into her mouth. Jane closed her eyes again, feeling herself respond with a familiar, lazy warmth.
"Mmmmm…love you, too."
How long can this last? Her lids flew up and she pulled away softly. Thankfully, the light had turned green, so her abrupt withdrawal went unnoticed. Where did that come from? She sat back in the seat, puzzled at her own subconscious penchant for negativity at a time like this.
Things are going really well. I have no business doubting right now. They'd both agreed to leave their cell phones off for the majority of the trip. There had been no hitches in their travel plans, and no interruptions. Their two-week honeymoon had been just about as flawless as Jane knew she could realistically expect it to be. There had been a couple of moments where she would lay awake at night after Casey had flopped to his side of the bed, happy and exhausted. In these moments she would stare at the ceiling or the digital clock on the nightstand, and listen to the ocean sounds wafting through their open window. And she would get an itch in her mind to know what cases her colleagues were working on, if they had any leads, what morbidly fascinating observations Maura made while conducting her autopsy. But the restlessness would be fleeting, easily quelled.
They pulled up to Jane's building, hauled their luggage from the trunk to her bedroom and collapsed, side by side, on the mattress.
"Let's not bother unpacking tonight," Casey said.
Jane snorted. She hadn't been planning on it. "Agreed." They both smiled into the dark.
In companionable silence, Jane slowly, lightly drew her fingertips up and down Casey's forearm.
"Will you go back tomorrow?" he asked.
She turned her head on the pillow to look at him. His eyes were forward, trained on the ceiling. Was this a test? She decided honesty was the best policy. "I was thinking about it." Is that okay? she felt like asking, but wanted to avoid emulating the deferential wife stereotype in any way. It was her job, her career, and she was the only one who would decide when her hard-earned vacation was over.
She felt his strong fingers link with hers. "Okay."
Wait. That's it? Just "okay?" This was an easier conversation than she expected. She rolled over to kiss him, and his hands came to her waist, squeezing ever so lightly just beneath her ribs. It was on the verge of a tickling sensation, but the pressure was brief. "Thank you," she murmured with a smile. He smiled back. She lay back down on her back, and he reached over to tenderly brush a wayward lock from her face.
"Good night, beautiful."
"Good night."
Jane awoke feeling refreshed and raring to get back in the swing of things. She was certainly never one to get romantic about her work as a homicide detective, but absence had made her heart grow fonder her job and its myriad associations.
Casey was gone, but that was no surprise. Even in Hawaii he would sometimes get up at oh-dark-thirty for a brief solo jog – even if it was just around the block. Old Army habits die hard. She had even risen early to join him once, but afterwards decided that vacations were for sleeping in.
Whenever he left early in the morning he would be sure to write a note to let her know what he was doing and roughly how long he expected to be gone. It wasn't necessary – he was a grown man and Jane only rarely worried about him – but she appreciated the courtesy, and the love she knew was behind it.
In Hawaii, the notes had been handwritten. Today, however, he must have known she would check her email first thing, and so his name was at the top of her lengthy inbox list.
Good morning, babe –
Hope you have a good day at work. I've gone for a run. You'll probably be gone before I get back. Maybe I'll stop by for lunch?
I'll talk to you later.
Love you!
Casey
With a smile, she closed the message and skimmed through the rest of her inbox. There were a few minor news updates from the precinct. A couple jokes and gag emails from Korsak and Frankie. One from Cavanaugh. One from her mother. And one from Maura. These last three had strikingly similar subject headers, all along the lines of, "we need to talk when you get back." Suddenly nervous, the smile melted from her face as she opened each of them. While cryptic, she got the sense that they were all trying to warn her of some significant changes in the department that she should prepare herself for upon her return. The fact that one of these was from her mother clued Jane to the fact that this was big enough news that it had extended beyond the walls of the bullpen and into civilian territory. Yet it was sensitive enough that they couldn't – or wouldn't – divulge details over email. It was something they each felt a need to address with her in person.
Unable to glean any more helpful information from her inbox, she closed her laptop, slugged down the last of her coffee, and headed for the shower.