By the time Maura pulled her black Mercedes into the driveway, her hands were shaking. "Stop it, Maura." Shaking out her hands once, twice, Maura squeezed her fingers into her palms to steady herself. The blonde pressed the ignition button, turning the engine off. She sat for a few more seconds, gathering composure. "An increased adrenaline reaction causes…" she paused, thinking. "Sweating, tremors, shortness of breath…" The M.E. began to list the symptoms like a health book to compartmentalize what had happened at the crime scene. She took a deep breath again, beginning to feel its calming effects.
"And why are you having an adrenaline reaction in the first place?" Again, the M.E. spoke aloud to herself, a habit she had picked up in childhood. Because you met the woman you're falling in love with for the first time. Maura realized the idea was preposterous. She couldn't fall in love with a woman she never really knew. She didn't even know how to contact the brunette. Their meeting ground was The Dirty Robber, an absolutely ridiculous place to meet someone but Maura couldn't ignore the truth of the matter. Now that she had introduced herself as what she was, not just a breathless name in the back of a cab, Maura couldn't deny it any longer.
Maura had feelings for Jane. Feelings she couldn't explain. Feelings that made no logical sense. It was why she hadn't gone back to their bar in a week. That last night with Jane, when there was laughter and easy tenderness (after a significant round or two of something more improper), almost tore Maura in two. On one hand, she was a renowned, respected, straight, medical examiner that dated CEOs and doctors alike. On the other hand was the secret – the part of Maura that was a little corny but completely, irrevocably infatuated with her smiling brunette. Maura watched Jane interact with other people at the bar, watched her with taxi drivers, and anyone in between, she was nothing but rough exterior. Tough Jane on the outside. But Jane saved that dimpled grin for Maura, only Maura. It made her melt every time that all-consuming grin spread across Jane's face as she took Maura between her hands, kissing her fervently. Like she needed Maura for air.
Maura pressed open her car door abruptly. Frustration mounting as she began to identify all the ramifications of finding out she now would be working with Jane. Everything changed. It both frightened and infuriated the blonde. She had a strict, no dating co-workers policy. She never deviated from it. This wasn't exactly dating but it went under the category of intimacy which, to Maura, was interchangeable in matters such as this. It served her right for playing this new game where she doesn't know anything about the woman she was sharing a bed with. It was reckless and she knew better. As Maura marched up the walkway to her front door, she could feel the tension peak. She unlocked the front door, walked through, dropped her bag immediately against the hardwood floors and slumped against the back of the door as she slammed it closed. Her dress hiked up to her hips as she brought her knees to her chin, securing her arms around them, and resting her forehead against her kneecaps. "What am I supposed to do, Bass?" She could hear the tortoise thudding through the kitchen when she had entered. Her muffled question went unanswered.
Half an hour later, Maura pulled her stiff body from the floor, finally confident enough to shower and get into bed. Tomorrow would be a new day. Maybe tomorrow she wouldn't be such a coward. She would draw the line between her and Jane and that was that. Jane was a colleague and nothing more.
To seal her resolution, Maura strutted into the precinct the next day. She wore her new dress from Saks and wore the strappy black Christian Louboutin's that made her feel sexy…and made her ass look sumptuous. She may be drawing a proverbial line in the sand but it didn't mean she couldn't make Jane pant a little before then. Maura knew she looked fierce. Black always made her feel self-assured and deadly (no pun intended), like she could take on the world and not get a hair out of place doing so.
Maura's confident clacking against the precinct's lobby floor had heads turning from every direction. In a house full of cops with bad shoes, heels were the last thing they expected to see or hear. The sideways glances made Maura smirk to herself as she stood waiting for the elevator to arrive taking her downstairs to the morgue. Secretly, she reveled in the attention. The elevator pinged, announcing its arrival. Maura gracefully stepped inside the small, gray box and pressed the "BB" button. She ran practiced fingers through her blonde hair, fluffing out the loose curls, and finally looking up to meet the stares of everyone in the lobby as the doors closed in front of her. Everyone, including Jane.