Author's Note: Thank you very much for all your reviews; for some reason, the reviews won't appear on the website so I can't reply to them as of now. However I get them through the email alerts so please keep them coming and I will reply to them as soon as the issue is fixed. Anonymous reviewer: "infamous" because they have a bad reputation.

Chapter Six

The singer who stood next to the pianist had something of Ella Fitzgerald but the only thing Maura could focus on was the grace of Jane's nape. Jane had tied up her hair in a bun, she had put makeup on and the ankle-length black dress that she wore echoed the pure darkness of her eyes. She looked breathtaking to Maura.

They hadn't gone out for the night. They had stayed at the hotel instead and had headed to the lounge for the evening in order to attend a jazz band venue. If there was something cliché in their plans, Maura couldn't care less about it: she was living a dream, a terribly sweet dream.

She hadn't even needed to tell Jane to overdress a bit. Jane had implicitly understood that a venue at the Lutétia meant that she couldn't show up to it in her jeans. Maura knew that it was an extra-effort for Jane and - one more time - she was more than glad to see that her friend didn't complain about it.

"I know nothing about jazz but isn't she really good?"

The casual tone Jane used betrayed the innocence of her thoughts. She hadn't noticed how Maura had been observing her all along, how her hazel eyes seemed to feed themselves of the curves of her shoulders, of the femininity of her neck. She was unaware of everything. Maura nodded, she even smiled in order to make sure that her quiet fascination would remain unnoticed.

"She is." Maura wasn't drunk but the few glasses that she had had had swept away whatever inhibitions she usually had. Thus – with an unusual self-confidence – she squeezed Jane's hand tightly before looking into Jane's dark eyes. "I'm really glad you're enjoying the evening."

But the relative serenity that had lit up Jane's face until now vanished in the air at light speed. It made Maura swallow hard. Had she said something that she should have kept for herself instead? She had remained rather neutral though.

She hadn't crossed any boundary except for her hand pressing Jane's comfortingly but she could hardly define the gesture as bold either.

"Do you know what day it is, today?"

The question took Maura aback. She stared at Jane with great confusion and whatever words passed her lips as she answered got swallowed by the applause of the audience as the singer finished her song.

Today was Saturday.

"The date, Maura. It's October, 15th. We met on this day, seven years ago." Jane's cheeks turned pink. She looked down timidly and began to fight against a smile that wanted nothing but to embrace her traits. "It's our anniversary."

Maura blinked. A part of her was overwhelmed by the fact Jane remembered the detail, that she actually considered important enough to mention it.

But sadly, an immense shame turned Maura quiet nonetheless for she had completely forgotten about the date herself. She had missed it. Lost in her thoughts about some impossible love, she hadn't paid attention to the time being.

Carpe diem.

"Happy anniversary." Amused, Maura motioned the lounge. "If you had told me seven years ago that we would be at the Lutétia together for a jazz venue today, I wouldn't have believed you."

Jane burst out laughing. Her laugh was loud and clear. Honest, just like the sparkle in her eyes. She didn't have the discretion other customers had but – instead of being ashamed of it – she embraced her difference in order to turn it into a strength. Maura admired her for it.

"I wouldn't have believed it myself!"

The singer started singing a new song. Jane and Maura turned quiet anew. The parenthesis was over. They both focused back on the pianist and on the other musicians who had just joined both artists. The intimate lights of the palace created a delicate atmosphere that seemed to be coming straight from a movie that would take place in the 20's. A film noir, to be more precise.

It was anything but a random evening.

...

"You're different in Paris. In a good way, I mean."

Surprise showed on Jane's face. She settled on her side of the bed without breaking eye-contact with Maura. The evening was over. The jazz band had played its last notes before calling it a night. Then everyone had left the lounge of the Lutétia with discretion and elegance. Jane and Maura had headed back to their suite after a last drink.

"In what sense?"

Maura was already in bed. She had already made hers the fresh bedsheet, the smooth pillow. Her side of the bed had warmed up under the heat of her body and the murmur of the traffic rocked her to sleep. She was tired but she wanted to keep her eyes open. The evening couldn't come to an end. It was impossible. The sweetness of the last hours was too beautiful for her to allow it to go away within a night.

She had to speak.

"I don't know..." She shrugged. Many words twirled in her head and she needed to concentrate a lot in order to only keep a few; the few that would make sense. "You're relaxed here. And easy going. Always in a good mood."

"Does that mean I'm usually a stressed, complex and grumpy person?"

"Oh, this isn't what I meant. No!" It took Maura long seconds before her to realize that Jane was simply joking. She rolled her eyes at her own silliness, at this incapacity she had to take any remark to the second degree. "Come on, I'm serious, Jane... I like the way you are, here. As a matter of fact, you look at ease."

It was true. Maura's words weren't a simple subterfuge to make their evening last a bit longer. She honestly meant what she said and Jane agreed with it.

Except she couldn't say why.

"It's not every day I have the chance to go to Europe, you know. It's not every day I have the chance to stay at a palace in the heart of Paris. It's not every day I have the chance to share all this with you."

Maura nodded. However she remained focused on an invisible point in front of her. She had stopped looking at Jane because a wave of bitter thoughts had just rushed through her mind and it tightened her heart rather painfully.

Tears. The burning sensation that made her vision suddenly too blurry. She felt like crying.

She swallowed hard then she took a deep breath. She didn't have much of a choice: she had to force herself to show Jane how strong of a person she was. It was exactly what society expected of her. For a long time, people had told Maura that she was too sensitive; too fragile. Too weird. So she had worked on her attitude, she had built herself a precarious shield and she had become the woman she now was.

Except it was just a bunch of appearances.

"I'm going to miss you when you're gone. You know that, don't you?"

It has to be the alcohol. It has to be the emotional fatigue. It has to be a thousand things, a thousand things that I can't name. Or else I don't get why I actually said this. It's the blatant truth but I had sworn to myself that I would never admit it because I know how much it may hurt you. I don't want you to think that you're responsible for my pain, Jane. The only one to blame in all of this is me and nobody else. Please, tell me that you understand. Tell me that you don't feel guilty.

Tell me that these few words haven't ruined the beauty of this evening.

"I won't be far." Jane's smile had frozen the moment Maura had talked. Her serenity was now gone and her sudden high-pitched tone of voice betrayed a deep anxiety that she had tried to hide until now. "I'll come back to Boston, and you'll visit me."

"Yes. Of course, I will. But it won't be the same anymore nonetheless. Let's face it." A heavy sigh passed Maura's lips. She shouldn't have said anything regarding Quantico if only because Jane had insisted on the fact that she didn't want to talk about it in the first place. Maura had crossed boundaries and she now regretted it. "That's life, I guess."

And life can't be beautiful all the time. It can't be that sweet.

"Come here." The two whispered words melted into Jane's timid smile as she opened her arms to Maura. They hadn't hugged once yet since they had made it to Paris. As a matter of fact, they both disliked the gesture of affection. But a bottomless loneliness pushed Jane to hold her friend against her. "I'll miss you too, Maura. I'll miss you a lot."

Then why do you do that? Why do you go away? Why do you impose this to us, to everyone? You had a life in Boston, a great one. I thought you liked it. I guess I hadn't realized that you weren't in love with it as much as I am in love with it. See? We always come back to the same thing: our feelings aren't mutual. And I'm sorry for this.

They remained for so long in each other's arms that they ended up falling asleep, rocked by their heartbeats and by the heat of their respective bodies. The sweetness of their gesture swept away the bitterness of their words and the pain of their feelings. Life turned pleasant anew as they drifted off to sleep and they were happy again.

I don't know what will be left of this late-night – slightly alcohol induced – conversation once we wake up tomorrow morning. Perhaps nothing at all, not even ruins of a what-if. It's okay though. It's okay because I dared to tell you how I feel, Jane. I dared to say the words and you didn't run away from me. On the contrary. You took me in your arms.

It's the only therapy that will save me.