A/N: A sequel/epilogue to the previous ficlet, "Educational Watch". Please enjoy, and yes, the change in POV was deliberate.
"No, don't take that much off," Jane comments as she peers over at Maura's stack of papers.
Maura turns towards her briefly to level a small glare at her before shuffling the essay in her hand turning slightly away from Jane.
"Maur, come on – a lack of a comma doesn't deserve a whole percentage decreased in a freshman class!" Jane adds. "They don't know what they're doing yet – cut them some slack," she reasons.
The head of the pathology department turns back to her wife. "Jane, we agreed we'd stay out of each other's braids when it came to grading schoolwork. I don't comment on your dreadful leniency to the freshmen; you don't comment on my upholding the academic prestige of our school with them."
"It's 'hair', Maura, and they can learn without being penalized," Jane pleads, proffering her own essays towards the doctor.
Automatically, Maura peers down at the sheaf of papers, frowning at all the red she sees there. "If there's all that red, how did they get a 76?" she almost screeches, taking in the grade at the top of the front page.
Jane shrugs at the paper's battle scars. "It wasn't a bad paper. They had good evidence, good sources, it just wasn't as polished as it could have been. But this kid's also only a freshmen. They need a little leeway to figure out what's expected of them here." She gestures to Maura's virtually pristine stack of marked essays. "Your students have no idea why they lost a percent here and there – they just know that they have. You're giving them no way to know how to improve."
Maura huffs indignantly. "They're supposed to come see me if they have questions or concerns."
Jane snorts, then follows it with a laugh. "Maur, no freshman is gonna go see their intimidating professor when the message from their returned paper is crystal clear: you should know what you're doing, so you should know why you lost the marks. They're gonna be scared and embarrassed and they're just gonna let it slide and hope they do better next time."
The doctor furrows her eyebrows at the lawyer. Jane sighs.
"Have any of your freshmen actually come to talk to you? For their first paper maybe or their midterm?"
Maura shakes her head. Jane shrugs triumphantly.
"That doesn't mean it's because of what you said," Maura cautions.
It's Jane's turn to huff. "But logically-"
"Logically we can only say that it is a possibility, not a given," Maura interjects. But she glances at Jane's papers again. "How many red pens did you go through?"
Jane chuckles. "Less for this essay than last essay. I think it's been three for this one; it was five last time. That means they're improving." She pauses. "By the time they're in final year, my stack looks more like your current one, except with higher grades and the occasional coffee stain."
Maura considers that, thinking back to the numerous stacks she's marked. She usually sees some improvement, but not on the same apparent scale as Jane has. And even her final year students aren't phenomenally better than her freshman. But enough that she'd never noticed before.
"I'll be right back, I'm gonna start dinner and let the wine breathe," Jane informs her, quickly clasping Maura's hand and kissing her cheek before disappearing from the porch only to materialize in the kitchen. Maura watches her go.
Maura drags Jane's stack over toward her and starts reading both the papers themselves and the lawyerly scrawl in the margins. Where she just puts a '-1' beside the paragraph in question that requires the reduction, Jane has circled or boxed parts of the text and connected those with a line to her comments off to the side.
Basically, Jane has written down her thought process about the student's score for the student to see. Maura's never done that, automatically seeing grading and giving feedback as two separate things; one which happens on the page, and the other which happens in person. No wonder Jane has boxes of red pens in her office.
Personally, Maura prefers to mark in black – sleeker and more elegant, more professional than the harsh vividness of the red on the paper. She can't deny though, that the red draws the eye and forces the reader to take in the commentary.
When Jane comes out an hour later with two steaming plates of veal-stuffed cannelloni and braised vegetables, Maura is too engrossed to notice her. Until Jane nudges her so she can set the plates down. They aim for dinner to be around the setting of the sun, and it's safe to say they've hit it on the nose for the second night in a row.
The lawyer notices that Maura's stolen her box of red pens and has been thoroughly letting loose on the bloodletting of her students' essays, but she just turns back to get the wine instead of commenting. That doesn't stop a victory smirk from gracing her face as she dashes into the kitchen again, though.
When she returns, Maura has stacked their homework on the side of the patio table, giving them plenty of splash zone for the pasta's rosé sauce.
Maura knows Jane's noticed, but they eat quietly, holding hands as they do so thanks to opposite dominant hands. The doctor breaks the comfortable silence first.
"As a scientist," she prologues, "I've decided to test your theory that your method is better than mine in regards to feedback."
Jane brings her glass to her lips and smiles behind it.
"That's not to say I will change how I grade – that student deserves to lose a percent for the comma neglect."
Jane laughs and pulls Maura in for a kiss. "If they haven't improved on the final essay, I will bow down to your greater teaching methods," Jane states. "But if they do…" she leans in and whispers something in Maura's ear that makes her blush a deep scarlet.
"You're on, Rizzoli."