"How are you feeling lately?" Jane asked as they stepped out of the Boston summer heat and into the artificially moderated temperatures of the Dirty Robber. "I mean, on top of everything else, this latest homicide is kinda in your neighborhood."

Maura nodded. "The thought had occurred to me. But I try not to dwell on it. An astonishing amount of crime happens each year in this city – and statistically, criminal activity increases in frequency during the summer…"

"Murder is definitely a fair-weather sport," Jane quipped.

Maura barely suppressed a smile. "Essentially, yes. But I don't let it deter me from living here. Besides, it's my job to help solve these crimes as efficiently and effectively as possible."

Jane couldn't help but notice that Maura hadn't exactly answered her question. "Well, if you ever have the least bit of concern about your safety…," she said as they sat down, "there's always my place."

Maura's head came up abruptly. "Thank you, but I think I'll be okay."

Jane saw, then, the discomfiture in Maura's face that she was trying to conceal. And she remembered the boundaries that had sprung up between and around them since Jane had gotten married. With Maura, it was so easy to forget that she technically shared her living space with her husband, though for now he was keeping his distance. The undeniably dynamic chemistry between herself and Maura remained a constant in both of their lives.

But the comfortable intimacy they had shared was no longer the norm.

Jane was stunned to realize then that she missed it. She missed Maura. Her best friend was right in front of her, and yet she missed her. She realized that she had wanted very much for Maura to admit she was a little nervous about a body turning up in Beacon Hill. She wanted that - she would gladly use her protective instinct as an excuse to have Maura close again. As close as before.

A faint, dull, ache settled in her heart then. You screwed up, she thought. You picked the wrong person. A leaden weight plummeted to the bottom of her stomach.

"Your mother has been asking me about you," Maura announced without preamble as the server brought their glasses of water and a basket of fries.

"Really?" Jane groaned, exasperation snapping her consciousness back to the present. "When will that woman learn to drop a thing?"

"Jane, she is a concerned mother. She…said that you and Casey…weren't speaking much."

"What, did she tell you to say that? Did she put you up to this?" Jane jabbed a sweet potato fry at Maura.

"No, she did not," Maura's voice remained level, her demeanor calm. Discarding any hesitation, she seized Jane's hand across the table. "Jane…look at me. I told you before, and nothing's changed: you are my business. And yes, I worry about you sometimes. Because I love you. That's why your mother nags, why Frankie teases, why Korsak asks you questions you sometimes don't want to answer."

"Maura…" Jane swiped angrily at her eyes with her free hand. She couldn't help herself from gripping Maura's just a little tighter. She wasn't even entirely sure why she did.

"But what I was going to say was that if you ever want to talk about any of this, I will listen. No judgment." Maura's thumb passed over the scar on the back of Jane's hand. "Whenever – if ever – you decide you're ready to open up, I will be your sounding board." She held Jane's hand and her gaze for a beat longer, then released her and sat back in her chair.

Jane took a breath. "I just –"

Maura's cell chimed. She clenched her jaw, trying to maintain an outward calm, despite her frustration at the timing of the call. Apologizing, she pulled her phone out to check the screen. She turned it for Jane to see. "It's your mother."

Jane rolled her eyes but gestured for Maura to answer it.

"Hello, Angela."

Jane could hear her mother's voice from across the table, squawking out the tiny speaker. "Is Jane with you?"

"Y-yes, she is…why? Do you need to speak to her?"

"Tell her…"

Upon hearing those words from her mother's lips, Jane extended her hand, indicating that Maura was to hand over the phone. Maura covered the receiver end with her fingertips and mouthed, "Are you sure?"

Jane nodded vehemently and Maura relinquished the phone.

"Ma?" Jane interrupted her mother mid-tirade. "Ma, why are you calling Maura to talk to me?"

"Because I got tired of trying to chase you down and you won't answer your phone when I call you!"

Jane sighed. "We've been over this." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't want to talk about it."

"How do you know you don't want to talk about what I want to talk about if you never talk to me?"

She looked up at Maura, who was watching her with trepidation. "I know because all you want to talk about is, is," she huffed out a sigh, "Casey or Frost and how I'm handling both situations really badly. I get it, Ma. But reminding me over and over again that I'm screwing everything up is – shockingly – not helping."

"Janie, that's where you're wrong."

Jane looked up to acknowledge the server delivering their food with a curt nod. She switched the phone to her right hand and raked the left one through her hair. "Then enlighten me," she groaned, propping her cheek on her fist.

"I'm not calling all the time to remind you of how you've failed. You've always had a knack for finding your own mistakes and beating yourself up over them until the cows come home."

She stabbed her fork down into her salad. "Gee, thanks, Ma. Inspiring words."

"Jane, listen to me. I'm calling all the time because you need to talk about it. I know you do. And I know you think I'm not helping, but I wish you'd realize that all I want to do is help, and I can't know how best to do that unless you talk to me."

Jane looked up from her plate at Maura. Her best friend had clearly overheard Angela's words, and was nodding slightly in agreement. The right side of her face quirked up in an expression that said, "She makes a valid point."

She passed her hand over her face, conceding. "Alright, Ma. Okay. I hear you and understand what you're saying."

"Thank you, Janie."

Jane caught Maura's eye again. "I'm not ready yet, Ma. But soon, I think. Soon I'll be ready to talk about my feelings and address things. It's the seventh inning stretch, but I'm still working some stuff out in my head."

"I hope you're not neglecting your heart in all this." There was a maternal warning in her mother's voice.

Jane's breath caught. She could feel Maura watching her. "I – no. I'm…taking that into account, too."

"Good. Because they're equally as important."

She could feel her throat constricting. The sensation rarely seemed to leave her these days. "Alright, good talk. I'm at lunch, so I gotta wrap up. Bye, Ma."

"Bye, sweetie. I love you."

"Yep. Love you, too. Bye." She ended the call and handed the phone back to Maura. "Sorry."

Maura shook her head. "Don't apologize. That conversation needed to happen."

After stowing the last of her notes from the day's interviews and field trips to the morgue, Jane stood at her car with the key fob in her hand, thumb poised over the trunk latch button. It seemed a solid 2 minutes passed before she made up her mind, but she popped the trunk and pulled out her gym clothes. She found herself almost smiling as she imagined the glee on Maura's face. I ate lunch voluntarily AND I feel like a little workout. She knew her best friend would be over the moon about it. And the knowledge brought about a flutter in her abdomen and a flush of heat across the surface of her skin.

She almost texted Maura to invite her to an evening workout in the air-conditioned gym, but ultimately decided she needed to do this alone for now. She did some of her most lucid thinking when plying the kickboxing dummy with her fists or working up a sweat on the elliptical. And she had a lot of thinking to do.