Author's Note: Thank you very much for all the reviews and messages, I'm glad to see you're enjoying this story so far in spite of the latent sadness that will soon vanish.

Chapter Four

"We arrived last night, ma'. The Eiffel Tower can wait, you know. It's not gonna disappear. Besides, I can see it from here. It's just there." Jane grabbed her iPad in order to show her mother the monument. "See?"

The remark amused Maura. Jane was right: they had all the time in the world to go to the other side of the 7th arrondissement in order to see and climb on top of the infamous monument. They were in Paris for thirty days.

They had focused on Saint-Germain-des-Prés and the Jardin du Luxembourg on their first day. One thing at a time. The Eiffel Tower could wait a little while.

A mug of tea in hand, Maura left Jane alone in the living-room of their suite. The fireplace was on and the shadows of the flames danced a tantalizing ballet on the walls all the way to the king size bed. Jane was on Skype with her mother, Maura didn't have to be around. She had said hello to Angela but it was Jane whom Angela wanted to talk to. Not her, not Maura.

She crossed their bedroom and went to sit on one of the large leather armchairs by the windows. She loved the suite for it overlooked the boulevard in all discretion and there was nothing like observing life going on when in Paris. It was Maura's favorite activity. She could spend hours at the window looking at the traffic and at the passers-by on the street. It was a bit mesmerizing.

A strong wind had pushed the blue sky away and around 4pm it had begun to rain. The sudden change in the weather hadn't had an impact on Jane and Maura though as both had kept on walking peacefully through the streets of the wealthy neighborhood. Of course neither of them had mentioned anew the personal conversation they had shared over lunch. They had quickly moved on, too afraid of what it may mean. They had focused instead on the golden shades of the Parisian buildings in the rain, on the shiny cobblestones and on the history of the area. There was a lot to say about those streets, about the people who had lived there once.

"You didn't have to go away. The conversation wasn't top secret."

Maura shrugged. She didn't look at Jane but remained focused on the activity that was taking place a few feet below the window. She had folded her legs under her and – her mug on her lap – had let a feeling of serenity invade her. She was fine. She felt fine. At peace.

Yet she didn't answer back.

"Are your parents around?" Jane sat on the edge of the bed. She had planned on taking a bath in order to relax after all the walking she had done during the day. Her legs were sore. "Or relatives... Do you have relatives who live in Paris?"

"Ahem..."

Maura blushed. Her hesitation was ridiculous for the question Jane asked was very simple if not just completely random. She nodded – slowly, with the reluctance people show when they wish nothing but to be somewhere else instead – but the words didn't come out. They stayed trapped in her throat, in that labyrinth of feelings and that fog of uncertainty.

"One of my aunts lives in Paris."

She had answered. Finally. Perhaps her answer was very brief and not satisfying but she had nonetheless managed to say something to Jane who must have looked at her with great confusion.

"Oh." Jane's surprise was very quiet. As a matter of fact, she didn't really sound surprised; as if she had expected Maura's answer since the very beginning. "From which side of your family? Have you planned on paying her a visit?"

The tea warmed up Maura's mouth as she took a sip of it. She wasn't particularly thirsty but she knew that the gesture would help her win some time. It was a rather shameful subterfuge but she assumed it nonetheless.

"My mother's side. Léopoldine – that's her name – is quite a busy woman, a busy artist actually. So I'm not sure she'll have time to see me."

"Leo-what?!"

"Léopoldine. It's pronounced Leo-Paul-Dean. She was named after Victor Hugo's daughter who drowned at the age of 19. Léopoldine Hugo is very present in her father's work."

"That's creepy."

A clear and loud laugh passed Maura's lips. It was the first time someone dared to say such thing about the origin of her aunt's name. People usually found the story to be beautiful. But not Jane. Of course she saw it differently, because she was unique herself.

"You know, it's all fine if you wanna see her, Maura. I wasn't supposed to be here in the first place so if you have other plans... I mean..." Jane ran a hand through her hair. "You don't have to renounce to everything just because I'm here."

Maura swallowed hard. Jane would have stabbed her that it wouldn't have been more painful. She tried to hide her violent feelings behind a shy smile. She rolled her eyes hoping that it would emphasize the idea that she didn't mind.

The truth was that she was ready to change everything for Jane. She would even give up a life she actually liked for her friend. She would move to the other side of the world if she had to. Or to Quantico. But Jane hadn't asked her to come along. She – Maura – wasn't part of such plans.

"Léopoldine is... A bit singular. I don't plan on visiting her." Maura closed her eyes and for brief seconds the boulevard disappeared from her sight. The world turned dark. She then turned around to look at Jane. "Anyway... What do you want to do tomorrow? Our table is booked for 7.45pm tonight at the restaurant of the hotel but you haven't told me what you'd like to see tomorrow. The Eiffel Tower? The Louvre? Or something a bit less... Touristic?"

Jane moved at light speed. She moved so fast actually that Maura didn't have time to react and – before she could realize what was happening – Jane had knelt in front of her and she had cupped Maura's face in her hands.

The lightness of her mood was gone. Her facial traits were dark now, and deep. Jane seemed to be worried. In doubt.

"Are you alright, Maura? You look..." If "sad" was the word Jane wanted to say, she nonetheless made sure that it would never hit the air. "We'll do what you want to do. I've come to Paris to be with you. I want you to show me what you like about this city, why you've wanted to spend a whole month here. Everything's fine as long as I'm with you."

"Well... What happened to grumpy Jane?"

Jane smiled. Her hands slid down Maura's neck before coming to rest on Maura's lap. The gesture was quite innocent and subconscious. It felt right.

"She doesn't deserve Paris with you." Jane winked at Maura before standing up anew. "You know what? I think you're a bit tired and I think you could enjoy a bath. So... How about I get one ready for you? We have a couple of hours before going downstairs for dinner, right? Would you enjoy a bubble bath now?"

"That's very sweet of you, and very thoughtful."

Jane walked towards the bathroom. She had noticed the way Maura had avoided answering whether she felt fine and it bothered her. Yet her instinct told her to not insist. Not now. It could have been the jet lag or a thousand other reasons. Pushing Maura to admit something wasn't necessarily a good idea.

Besides, Jane may not be ready to handle whatever truth lay behind Maura's tired smile.

"As long as I have time to have a bath or a long shower myself... You have to try this bathtub anyway, Maura. I may steal it before the end of our stay here. It's not just a bathtub, it's THE bathtub. The one I've been waiting for my whole life."

You ask me about Léopoldine and suddenly nothing makes sense anymore. Isn't it crazy how a single name can make the rest collapse? You couldn't guess. As a matter of fact, I don't blame you. If there's someone to blame then it's me and nobody else because I never told you about her. But still... Thinking about Léopoldine breaks my heart.

You smile, you're sweet and caring with me. All the time. If you think that grumpy Jane doesn't deserve Paris with me then I think that I don't deserve your gentle side either. Oh, I wish it were different!

Your love for me is painful because it's deprived of romantic feelings. The torture I experience through your gestures of atffection is odd and addictive. I still prefer to suffer with you standing by my side than being at peace alone. Your presence doesn't soothe me. It feeds the storm that takes place in my heart. But it's thanks to this storm that I live, that I am who I am.

Look at me, Jane. Look at me in the eyes. Don't move. Focus on the depth of my soul, on the sound it echoes whenever you're standing by my side. Can't you really see it?

...

Don't change anything. It's all fine. It's just not meant to be.

"What's Léopoldine's job? You told me she was a busy artist. Is she a painter like your mother? Two artists in the family... That's something!"

Jane's stifled voice rose in the bathroom. It pierced through the door that she had left open wide. Maura stood up and cleared her voice. She still could feel the heat of Jane's hands on her cheeks, on her lap. The touch had burned.

"She's a sculptor. Jane?" Maura leaned against the door frame. She waited for Jane to look up in order to resume. "Thank you for being here. It means a lot to me."

From the smile that curled up Jane's lips rose a singular beauty, one that couldn't be described but that nonetheless fit her and Maura's heart.