Author Notes: Like I said on my other fic, this week has been really busy with work since my colleague didn't come back off an extended holiday. I'm doing allllll the work, it's a bit complicated really. I should be doing 2.5 jobs, but thankfully someone else is doing 1.5 so I only have to do 2. This is finally up, anyway. Not sure when the next chapter will be ready.


The apartment smelled like Frankie. She'd walked in there dozens of times since he moved in and not once had she noticed it. The distinct scent of his cheap cologne mixed with laundry detergent that reminded her of her childhood.

Now he smelt of cleanliness.

She dropped the keys on the table by the door and walked tentatively into the room.

Silence.

She wanted to call out to him, to let him know that she was there. But she knew there would be no response.

Perching on the edge of a chair, she glanced around the room repeatedly; a couple of plates sat on the coffee table, along with glasses and a mug. A room lived in, abandoned with no idea it wouldn't be returned to. She picked them up and carried them over to the sink. Water splashed back off the plates, covering her hands. She scrubbed until the dried sauce came loose. She tidied them away and proceeded to clean the kitchen. On a hunt for kitchen cleaner she emptied the cupboards until she was shoulder deep in mess, two newly empty bottles of beer sat on the counter. Everything Frankie owned covered the countertop. Jane soaped and sponged down every surface until there was no hint of dirt left in the room, finishing a six pack in no time at all.

Returning the cups and plates to their rightful space, she moved onto the drawers, then the lower cupboards; finishing off with the floors and the outside of the doors.

She found a bottle of wine and started on that as she went out into the rest of the living space and threw cushions onto the floor. She emptied out the pile of old magazines in a box under the table, and dusted down the surfaces.

A knock at the door pulled her from her work. She'd stripped off her shirt some time ago, leaving only a vest underneath. She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead as she opened the door.

"I thought I might find you here," Maura said, entering the apartment without so much as a hello.

"How?" Jane asked, the alcohol in her system only made her feel sadder.

"I tried your house, I tried my house, I tried BPD. You weren't at the hospital, and you weren't answering your cell. It was the only place left I could think of to look. Thus, knowing I might find you here. Took me nearly twelve hours to realise you might have come here."

"I'm busy," Jane said, leaning over the table and returning to her cleaning, swigging the bottle of wine as she ran a duster across the surfaces.

"I can see that." Maura stood in the doorway, her purse over her shoulder. "You have soap on your forehead."

"I do?" Jane walked over to the mirror and tended to the mess. A dark streak still covered her cheek. She shrugged and went back to the trash bag she'd half filled.

"Is everything okay?"

"Sure," Jane said, holding up the wine bottle. "My ma died, Korsak hates me, my brother's in the hospital, my other brother and father couldn't give a crap about it. Couldn't be better."

"Korsak doesn't hate you. He's grieving."

"Yeah. Whatever."

"I actually meant the cleaning," Maura said. "You don't clean, at least not at your home. The only time you do is when you're stressed."

"I'm fine."

"Would you like some help?" Maura dropped her purse on the floor and rolled up the sleeves of her sweater. Jane rolled her eyes, but she was grateful for the company. She handed over the wine bottle. Maura raised an eyebrow, but took a swig anyway.

Once they'd cleaned the apartment top to bottom, put on two loads of laundry, and emptied out the refrigerator, Jane slouched down on the couch and stared up at the opposite wall. Maura sat down beside her. The wallpaper was peeling away. When Frankie purchased the apartment, he'd done no work, and as far as she was aware, he'd been in no rush to update the place.

"Why don't I order some takeout for lunch?" Maura asked.

Jane narrowed her eyes and sat upright. "Don't you have to be at work?"

"I think the universe understands that I need a break," she said. "There have been no significant deaths in the last two weeks. Besides, I took the morning off to meet Vince."

Jane raised her eyebrows, her eyes darted across to Maura. She opened her mouth but no words came out.

"He's officially retired," Maura said. "He regrets not doing it before Kiki's death. But better late than never."

Ignoring Maura's response, Jane walked across the room towards the wallpaper. She reached up, but couldn't grasp the strip. She stood on her tip toes, but it was still out of reach. Grabbing a chair from the dining table, Jane climbed up onto it and pulled at the corner.

"What are you doing?" Maura asked, standing up. She rushed to her side just in time to stop Jane from wobbling off the chair.

"Place needs redecorating."

Sighing, Maura folded her arms across her chest. "Do you think this is a good idea? You've had a bit too much to drink."

"Not too much. Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" Jane pulled the paper until it came away from the wall, leaving behind it a thin layer of under sheet. "If we have to sell the place to pay his mortgage, or his medical bills, then we should be ready."

"We don't have to rush into this," Maura said.

Reaching up and tugging at another strip of the paper, Jane continued to strip the walls. "No time like the present."

"I thought you'd have wanted to go back to the hospital."

"I need a break."

"So you're going to redecorate Frankie's place?"

"Why not?"

"Jane."

She jumped down, sighing, as she turned abruptly to Maura. "Don't say my name like that."

Taken aback, Maura pressed her fingers to her eyelids and lowered her gaze. "I'm trying to help."

"Why?"

"Why am I trying to help? Because you're clearly a mess and you need me."

"Yeah, right," Jane said, rolling her eyes. She walked into the kitchen.

"I should have saved her."

The water ran across Jane's hand, growing colder with every second that passed. She stopped moving. A lump formed in the back of her throat which she pushed down.

"Your mother. Angela. I should have saved her."

She stared into the stream of water, unable to find the words to respond. Her mind was blank.

"Are you going to say something?"

"You can help by stripping the wall," Jane said, her voice cold and toneless. She shut off the faucet and carried the washing bowl across the room.

Maura's voice cracked as she spoke. "Did you hear what I said?"

"I heard." She picked up the sponge and spread water across the surface of the paper. "Get over it already, I don't need your fucking guilt to add to my own."

"I," Maura began, but her voice drifted off.

Jane turned around, her eyes steely as she stared into Maura's glistening eyes. She hated herself for making Maura cry. Yet she couldn't bring herself to step forward and apologise. "There's too much to do, so either help, or leave."

Jumping back onto the chair, Jane dug her nail under the paper and pulled another piece away, continuing on until half the damp wall was clear of its under coat. After a few minutes, she turned around, surprised to find that Maura had left, her purse had gone, and Jane was alone.

"Could have got me some more beer before you left, Maur," she said, rolling her eyes.

By the time the sun had set, and the room had grown dark, every square inch of the walls had been cleared. Jane scrubbed down the walls for the third time, removing any excess paper. Tired, and hungry, she stopped for a rest. Sitting down on the couch, she closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened then again, Maura stood in front of her with a pizza box and a case of beers.

She stood up, wishing she could pull her into her arms and kiss her; instead she smiled and accepted a bottle of beer. They sat side by side on the couch.

"Sorry, I'm always a jerk."

"You're not always a jerk," Maura said, opening her bottle and pouring it into a glass. "You've been going through something unimaginable."

Jane sighed and sipped her beer. "Sometimes, for a moment, I forget that it's all really happening. Is that bad?"

"No. If it's how you cope." Maura returned her glass to the table and nibbled on the end of a slice of pizza. "When I struggle with how I'm feeling, I remember that it's probably harder being you."

"Thanks," Jane said, rolling her eyes.

"It gives me perspective; it reminds me to take a step back and acknowledge that you're struggling."

"I'm okay." Maura rolled her eyes. "Don't do that."

"Why not?"

"It doesn't suit you."

"It suits you."

"I know." Jane sighed, swallowing a mouthful of pizza. "I need this."

"Pizza and beer?"

"No."

"The apartment?"

"Yeah." Jane dropped the rest of her slice onto the box and leaned against the couch. "If I stay busy my mind forgets to remember, and for a moment I can pretend that I'm okay."

"I thought you were okay." Jane rolled her eyes again. "I know."

"You always have."

"I haven't." Maura sighed. "It's taken me longer than I would have hoped to understand you. I didn't used to know."

"You've always known better than me."

"I used to be terrible at social interactions, as you well know."

"I think you underestimated your ability to understand other people."

"I think you're trying to placate me."

"If I wanted to do that I'd make you drink more beer."

"I'd drink it, if it meant making you smile."

"Go on then."

Maura lifted her glass to her mouth and sipped her drink. Jane rolled her eyes and held the bottom up, Maura's eyes opened wide and she gulped down every last mouthful until the glass was empty. When Jane pulled her hand away, Maura dropped the glass onto the table and coughed.

"I didn't mean like that."

"It made me smile," Jane said, her lips curving at the edges. "Drunk yet?"

"It's doubtful that such a small amount of beer would render me intoxicated to the point you're suggesting."

"I can't get you naked on the floor yet, then?"

Maura raised an eyebrow. "I'd have thought you'd want more alcohol in your system before you did that."

"Yeah." Jane shrugged. "I don't need alcohol for that."

"I thought you only did it when you were in pain."

"I'm always in pain."

"We never talk about it beforehand; you never suggest you'd like to."

"Yeah."

"Will you ever want to discuss it?"

"Maybe. One day."

"What if I said no?"

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

"I don't."

"I wouldn't say no." Maura leaned in close, her head against Jane's shoulder. "But I do want to discuss it."

"Just not right now," Jane said, leaning in and brushing her lips against Maura's. "I'd rather you help me christen the renovation."

Maura sat back. "Renovation? I thought you were only redecorating?"

"Right now all I've done is strip paper, but tomorrow I'm gonna take the kitchen out."

"Don't you need a qualified electrician and plumber for that?"

"I think you're forgetting I'm a plumber's daughters."

Maura sighed. "I could never forget that."

"I know a few people I can get help from. I want to make the place nice, for when Frankie comes home."

Sitting upright, Maura picked up the empty pizza box and a couple of empty bottles of beer. She stood, trying to find the words to explain without coming across too bluntly. "You know that's unlikely to happen, don't you?"

"I know." Jane cracked another bottle open on the edge of the table. "This is all part of that pretending thing."

"Okay." She carried the box and bottles across to the kitchen counter.

"Maybe tomorrow I'll give it up," Jane said, sipping her drink.

"Or next week..." Maura suggested, stuffing the box into the recycling container.

"You know me too well." She put the bottle back on the table. "Hey, Maur?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for letting me be a jerk, and not leaving me because of it."

She walked around the counter and back toward the couch. "Why would I leave you?"

"Because you deserve better than this."

"I don't want better," Maura said, perching on the edge of her seat.

Jane scoffed. "More fool you."

"Why?" Maura narrowed her eyes. "I'm a grown woman. I know you don't mean to be the way you are; you're hurting. I don't blame you for that."

"You're a far greater woman than I could ever be."

"I love you, what other option is there?"

"What kind of love?"

"What do you mean what kind of love?"

Jane chewed on her bottom lip. "You know what I mean."

Maura stared at the floor. "I think you know how I feel."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

x

The mattress on the floor of the bedroom was lumpy and uncomfortable. Jane wondered how Frankie had ever slept on it, and then she remembered what else he'd likely done on it, and wanted another shower. She covered it with a paint covered cloth ready for being stripped later that day and went into the bathroom. She'd already pulled out the toilet and sink, her next job was the shower.

A knock on the door pulled her away before she could get started. She opened the door, exasperated by the distraction.

"Oh. Maura."

"Can I come in?" Maura asked, the break in her voice betrayed her attempt at composure.

Jane lowered her head, her heart ached. "Sure."

Silence captured every inch of emotion in the room, leaving Jane exhausted. She could see the sadness in Maura's eyes, could hear it in her voice, but she had nothing to say. She couldn't find the words, or the energy, to deal with it right now. She walked into the bathroom, ignoring Maura's cries as she proceeded to pull out the shower curtain and railing.

Struggling to speak, Maura stood in the doorway, on the verge of tears. "Can you take a break?"

Jane stood up, catching Maura's eyes for the briefest moment. It pierced her bubble, forcing Maura's fragile emotions to hit her hard. She dropped the curtain on the floor and stepped forward, capturing Maura's lips, her hand tangled up in her hair. Maura deepened the kiss, powerless to stop.

"No." Maura pushed her back, finding assertiveness. "I'm not here for that."

"Come on, Maur," Jane said. "You benefit from it too."

"I need you, Jane," Maura said, barely audibly. She swiped the back of her hand across her cheek. Everything was so difficult. In the blink of an eye everything had changed. Including Jane. "But you're not here."

"What are you talking about? I'm here."

"You're not." Maura leaned forward, her shoulders shook with every gasping sob. "Not the way I need you to be. You're distant. I feel like you're not here at all. I never see you anymore."

The words hit her in the chest. Jane stepped toward her, enveloping her in her arms, pulling herself tightly around Maura's back. She sunk into her embrace, relaxed against her body. Jane trailed her hands across her back.

"I'm sorry. I'm here," Jane said, cupping her cheeks and staring into her face. "I dunno what to say, that's why I don't say anything."

Maura's face crumbled. Jane brushed her tears away and kissed her cheeks, salty droplets coated her lips. She kissed her cheek again, then her nose, her chin, until finally she captured her lips and Maura didn't protest. She pushed her backward out of the bathroom and through into the bedroom. They tumbled backward onto the mattress.

"I'm sorry," Jane whispered, landing on top of her. "This isn't what you wanted."

Ignoring her words, Maura shuffled down on the mattress. She didn't know what she wanted anymore, all she knew was that when Jane touched her, it helped. She pulled Jane's shirt upward and kissed her stomach. "I need you."

Jane lifted her arms. Maura tossed the shirt across the room. She reached down, fumbling with the buckle on Maura's pants, pushing them down around her thighs. Their clothes dishevelled, bodies half covered. Jane kissed her again, pushing her hands up against Maura's breasts. She let out the smallest of moans. Jane trailed her lips across Maura's body where her hands had been moments before, provoking further sounds of elation.

They worked together in silence, only stopping to remove items of clothing. Jane groaned against Maura's mouth, her lips parted as she thrust herself closer. She opened her eyes, staring into Maura's as she watched her tip over the edge, followed a few minutes later by her own orgasm.

Rolling onto her back, Jane stared at the wooden ceiling, her heart racing. She could hear Maura's heavy breaths beside her. She sat up. The clock on the wall read twelve. Too much time had passed. She stood up, gathered her clothes and slipped into them.

"I have a bathroom to finish," she said, rushing out.

Maura lay in silence; her body exhausted both physically and mentally. Grief captured her heart when Angela died and hadn't let it go. She needed Jane, she needed to feel her close, and yet, when it was all over she felt more alone than she'd ever felt before. She curled up into the foetal position, oblivious to the draft that crept across her skin, and cried.