It's not that I don't think they'll understand it. It's that I know they won't.

That's why I'm not even planning on looking anyone composed of flesh and blood in the eyes, and sharing.

I scramble through the kitchen for something to snack on, although I've just eaten. But that's what it does to me, sitting in front of a screen. It makes me want to just do something on the side. Nibble on something or play with my badge or bite on my nails. Well, I don't bite on my nails, Maura bent over backwards to get me out of that habit and it worked. I don't know how she did it, but the lack of ragged nail endings on my fingers stands as a proud proof of her success.

There is an unopened chips bag that I take as my companion tonight. When I return to my laptop, there's a red flashy blinking image. She's replied.

I don't know her. I know her age and her name which I'm not sure is legit, I know approximately where in the world she lives and I know that she likes dogs. And theater. No wait, that's somebody else. Is that the one who played in a band? Their avatars are alike and I've lost track. A part of me feels bad, since they are independent individuals, real alive human beings, who spare time to blab on with me about whatever it is we can't tell the people around us. I like to think that I'm not using anyone, I also welcome everyone in need of a vent.

Well there are a dear few exceptions, of course. But mostly, at 2am, unless I take another look at their pages, I call them all "the girl".

And it's working.

For the time being. A way that balances the surrealism of the entire Maura situation. It opens a world where it's undeniably okay, and awaiting a happy ending. A world where this thing with me and "M" (as she goes by here), is just another love story waiting to unravel and where the sun is about to explode into rainbows and ice-cream and flowers and unicorns and candy and spring breeze and walks in the park and all that is good and beautiful in the world.

I open the message and it cheers me up. It's completely ridiculous and entertaining and it has nothing to do with Maura, but it makes me comfortable and relaxed, because I've already swiped my card to enter Universe Happy. My chest relaxes, and I type a reply.

The early morning hours find me on my couch. It's a surprise how the workout didn't throw me into some deep sleep where I wouldn't feel time passing.

I'm happy to not have work tomorrow but also tremendously disappointed to have spent such a "non-school-night" free evening alone. Sometimes, it's not about whether my finger landed on lock or call. Sometimes, it's about who pressed call first.

I don't remember Maura mentioning she had a date.

And I know that in the past a night alone would have made me happy. Happier than I'd have been at any party, gathering, event, outing... anywhere. But now there's Maura. And now I don't want to be alone.

It's almost dawning when I decide it's time to close the laptop. I remember to check my email one last time, unaware of the reasons for needing to, not expecting anything new in my inbox. But there is.

She came to the academy just as I was leaving it. It's the basis of both the angriest and sorriest I've ever been about a timeline arrangement. I'm certain nobody even senses I've kept in touch with her, or anyone else. In their eyes I don't let people in. In their eyes I'm stone cold and stick to my job. But I'm not. Nowadays, only Maura sees I'm not.

A flood of happy hormones hits me when my eyes catch the name on my screen.

Oh my God, Grace, finally!

She's the only one I know on the force, strong enough to leave the job at the desk. People think it's insensitive. I think it's admirable. I envy her.

She's the only one who made me wish I had a sister like her.

And she's also the only one of flesh and blood that I've looked at and shared with.

And with her, that's cool.

With her, I don't have to pretend.

I grab a pillow and get more comfortable as I go through the email.

She speaks of her vacation and of someone's drunk adventures, of patrolling the streets in the early hours of the morning and going to bed when the sun is rising, of beaches and parties and feeling like she's young and careless again.

She tells me she feels free. She tells me she is in love.

And my heart is happy for her.

But more importantly, it is comforted, ensured that if she can feel this positive after everything she's been through, there's no reason there shouldn't be hope for me.

I can feel drowsiness overcome my body before I can take action and transfer to my bed. It doesn't matter. I snuggle into the pillow as my head starts mixing reality with imagination and I drift off. Soon, it's only my brain's images floating through, and I'm in the only place where Maura is already mine.

A/N: I realized that this whole 1st person thing is quite interesting since I can use train of thought, so I'm continuing writing it. It's unexpectedly pleasant. Fair warning: I might be including some personal stories or new side characters, but I promise I'll do my best to stay true to the characters. If I stray, please tell me!

Now, I don't have exact elaborate plot plans yet, but I'll be bringing more of Maura as of next chapter.

You're more than welcome to put up suggestions, even requests.

And, of course, please review :)

Love you :D