Maura glanced at the time on her computer screen. It was probably time for lunch, but the last thing she felt like doing was eating. So she continued to scour the toolmark database for anything that might match the suspicious indentation on the victim's left clavicle bone.
She almost didn't notice the double doors swing open. Even after hearing their swish, she half expected Korsak to come through the doors. She wasn't expecting Jane.
Jane's step remained unusually quiet as she approached. She waited until she was less than three feet away from Maura before she spoke. There was a moment's hesitation, in which Maura wondered numbly why Jane was even down here.
When Jane finally opened her mouth to speak, the slight husk that usually characterized her voice was lower, harsher, and less steady. "You can stare at that screen till your eyeballs melt, it's not gonna change the fact that our "tool" isn't listed there."
Maura glanced up, fleetingly meeting Jane's eyes before returning her gaze to the computer monitor in front of her. "My eyes would never melt from staring at a computer screen, Jane," she corrected, her own voice low and dull. She hesitated to continue along this line of thought; their dialogue already felt painfully contrived after less than sixty seconds. "Though studies have shown that excessive exposure to electronic monitors – phone screens, television, computer monitors – leads to corneal dryness and irritation."
Jane could not suppress a wry smirk. "That explains so much." She crossed her arms and leaned closer to Maura's computer, looking at the time at the bottom of the screen. "Normally we would be eating lunch by now."
"I thought of that as well."
"Not hungry?"
Maura shook her head, quirking one shoulder weakly.
"Me neither. C'mon, let's take a break, anyway. Think we've both earned it, don't you?" Jane gave her arm a gentle tug.
Jane, Maura thought, you have no idea. She slowly pulled her arm away. Her shoulders began to gather in, and her chin quivered, betraying her.
"Maura…" Jane's hand assumed its usual position on her shoulder and squeezed tenderly. There was no mistaking the telling catch in the detective's voice.
The medical examiner hunched a little further, a feeble attempt at escape without physically removing herself from Jane's presence. Though it hurt, Jane acknowledged Maura's need to retreat. She watched helplessly as a tear escaped Maura's eye. "Okay," she said, squeezing Maura's shoulder one more time. Frost was her partner, too. He was her family, too. "Alright, we don't have to go anywhere. If you want to keep working, that's fine. But…" a sigh gusted unbidden from her lungs, and she ran a shaky hand through her wayward tresses. "We should – probably – set aside some time to…you know, talk. About…things."
Maura nodded. Wiped her eyes and sniffed. "Maybe tonight," she managed, and Jane wanted to cheer the suggestion. With the way a huge chunk of her world had just imploded, getting Maura to even tentatively agree so easily left Jane feeling poignantly triumphant.
"Okay. I'll check by later. To see if you're still up for it, okay? Or maybe just text me. Whatever you feel like."
"Okay." Maura nodded again, timorously meeting her best friend's dark eyes. The warmth there, and the pain they shared at the common loss, was oddly reassuring.
Jane gave her back a quick rub, and after a moment's hesitation, gently brushed some locks of red-gold hair off Maura's shoulder.
As the her best friend pulled away and made her exit, it was all Maura could do to not flinch at the way her stomach fluttered and her heart constricted.