Author's note: thank you very much for your reviews and suggestions; I will try to insert them one way or another.

December, 3rd:

I have never slept with any woman, never even kissed one. I have never had the opportunity to do so in spite of my obvious attraction to some. Always the same scheme, in the end: I don't dare.

I don't dare to talk to them, I don't dare to smile at them. They don't come to me either so nothing happens.

And now there is Maura, anyway. 'My Maura' as I say to nobody but myself. If only she knew how proud I am when standing by her side; when holding her hand. When I make her laugh. By then – and only by then – her hazel eyes seem to sparkle. Her lips curl up a little. She tilts her head on a side. Then I wish she were mine.

Sometimes, I think what my life would look like if she hadn't stormed in it like that. In all discretion but with the strength of the biggest tsunami. She is addictive. Too much, maybe. But I don't care.

It might sound stupid, I still need her. Every single day. She is the reason why I get up in the morning, the reason why I haven't turned yet completely crazy. The reason why I am breathing.

I dread the day when she finds someone. It is selfish – immensely selfish – but I would prefer her to remain single. And lonely. Because I know she is.

Maura Isles feels lonely, in spite of my presence; in spite of our friendship. She isn't leading the life that she would like to have but at least I have her for myself. Somehow, to an extent.

This isn't nice and it makes me feel guilty but I couldn't handle it if she happened – one day – to go and take her distance from me. So I hope in silence.

It isn't easy to love someone when you know that your feelings aren't reciprocal. It hurts a lot and you feel disarmed – helpless – for not being able to make the situation change.

It wouldn't work out, anyway. We are too different. She would get tired of me within a week and all I would get from it would be a field of broken dreams. An ocean of invisible tears.

She isn't made for me. This is the harsh truth so I'd better accept it.

9.30am

"You should eat something. Since when do you skip breakfast? This is the most important meal of the day and you know it. I have never ceased to repeat it to you and your brothers."

Jane closed her eyes briefly before looking at her mother. She took a deep breath and pondered the words in her head. There was no point in being agressive. The remark was fair, annoying but still...

"I'm not hungry, ma'."

Angela frowned – suddenly worried – and leaned over the table. She wasn't on a break but couldn't care less about it. The Division One Cafe was rather quiet, anyway. Cups of coffee could wait for a bit. Her children would always be her only priority. Besides, Stanley wasn't here.

"Are you feeling sick? Take a day off, you are exhausted. Look at you. Pale like a ghost. I don't like this..." The matriarch brought a hand to her daughter's forehead to check her temperature. "What is going on, Jane? I don't recognize you anymore."

Jane straightened up on her seat. She hadn't expected something like this. But before she had a real chance to stand up and leave – pretending to have work to do – her mother stopped her with both hands on her wrist. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Everything's fine, I don't know what you're talking about. Don't imagine things like that. Anyway... I have to go, now. I need... I need to see Maura."

"Of course, you do."

Already up, Jane froze and blinked – confused – as her mother's words resounded loud. She laughed out of nervousness then shook her head.

"What do you mean?"

Angela shrugged and looked around for help. She had never looked that guilty. Gesticulating as if to win some time, she finally smiled and began to play with an abandoned paper napkin; folding it in tiny pieces.

"Isn't it what she is supposed to do, helping you on cases? Go, now. I don't want you to be late. You will hold that against me and December isn't supposed to be about grudge."

The matriarch was lying and Jane knew it but too afraid of finding out what her mother had really meant to say, she chose the most coward way and rushed out of the cafe without adding anything. Just as she always did. It didn't make her particularly proud but she felt relieved.

She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to her floor. She wouldn't go to the morgue. It was pointless as Maura wasn't there. Besides, she didn't need the slightest thing regarding any case she might have been working on.

She was stuck at her desk – doing paperwork – until a phone call might change the situation. They weren't currently investigating on anything. The days were long and a tad boring. Too perfect for introspection.

...

1.45pm

"What happened, here?!" Jane stepped into Maura's office and looked all around at the new furniture.

Green plant in hand, the medical examiner smiled proudly before uncertainty embraced her face for a few seconds. It could have passed unnoticed if she hadn't been facing Jane right now but her friend knew her too well. Way too well.

"Feng shui!"

The Italian nodded slowly – not so convincingly – and rose an eyebrow as she approached a rather odd lamp to observe it.

"You should stop going to Cambridge. Every time it seems like you come back here with a brand... New and odd idea. What do they do to you, exactly?"

Maura ignored the comment – put the plant down by the door – and walked to her desk where she grabbed two lunch brown paper bags. She motioned at the couch with a gesture of the head before for Jane to sit there.

"They didn't have your favorite linguine."

The brunette made a face – pouted like a spoiled child – and reluctantly grabbed one of the bags. It was Wednesday and they always had linguine on Wednesday. She hated last-minute changes.

"What did you get us, then?"

Us. The pronoun floated in the air and made both of them blush slightly for its meaning being a bit too blurry, confusing. Yet as usual, none of them dared to make a remark about it. Instead, Maura – eager to overcome the sudden discomfort – cleared her voice and smiled as brightly as she could in such circumstances.

"Raviolis... Four cheese raviolis. And a bottle of Chianti."

Jane widened her eyes in surprise as she watched how her friend grabbed a bottle of wine out of her brown paper bag. She laughed lightly.

"Drinking while on the job? What a rebel you are, Dr. Isles!"

"I felt like celebrating."

The statement made Jane frown. What was Maura talking about, exactly? It wasn't their birthdays – nor any kind of anniversary – and they barely had twenty minutes or so before going back to their respective jobs.

"Celebrating what? You going feng shui?" Jane's voice resounded blank, almost shaking as if way too afraid to face one of these dreadful scenarios she – at times – elaborated in her head. "Is there something you wanna tell me? You met someone, this morning?"

"Why would I want to meet someone?" Maura gasped – stood up as she realized what she had just said – and rushed to her desk to turn her back at Jane. Complete fail. "I mean..." She shrugged, took a deep breath. "Christmas is coming! It is enough of a reason for a few glasses of Chianti."

"If you say so..." Jane grabbed the bottle – opened it – and poured some in two cups then waited for Maura to come and sit back next to her. She rose her glass – locked her eyes with her friend's – and swallowed hard. "To Christmas, then."

The blonde nodded and echoed the gesture.

"To Christmas. And make sure to be available tonight around 7pm. We are going to pick up a tree... You promised me the biggest one, I hope that you haven't forgotten about it."

As Maura's hip brushed Jane's hand, the detective relaxed and fully embraced the wave of warmth spreading from her lower stomach to her heart. She lived for these moments; intense ones. Intimate enough.

She rolled her eyes, pretending to be exasperated when she was actually thrilled. She just couldn't show it. She never did.

"Oh, come on!" Maura pressed her friend's forearm and froze as her gaze found Jane's own one.

Everything ceased, all of a sudden. Her surrounding turned blurry. She swallowed hard as she began to feel her friend's breath coming by waves to caress her lips. They were too close to each other.

Too ambiguous.

"Dr. Isles? I'm sorry, maybe I'm interrupting you. I can come back later, if you want."

Susie Chang's voice made them jump of surprise. They took some distance immediately and turned around to look at the senior criminalist. Maura stood up, adjusted her clothes with a barely hidden guilt.

She took a deep breath.

"Yes, Susie?"

And a smile. Always the same one. Bright - too bright maybe - as if to reassure her audience about her state of mind. A pure lie without really being one. It was a mere artifice. One she had learned as a child and she made great use of it.