“Jane.” She almost choked on the word, her throat dry and raspy. She recognised what was happening to her, the chemicals and signals. She had to control herself. It was Jane after all. This was a crush, born of the closeness of their friendship and her lack of any romantic liaisons in recent months; nothing more could or would come from it. She knew that and yet, sometimes, moments like these when Jane held her hands and seemed to stare into her soul, she doubted that she was the only one who felt that way.

“I’m bleeding.” She shook the thought from her mind and watched as Jane went to the first aid box in the far cupboard, covering the distance in two large and determined strides. Maura studied her, the way she moved, the passion that provided momentum whenever something mattered to her. Maura allowed Jane to take care of her injury; she knew this was Jane’s way of apologising for her outburst.
Silence filled the kitchen, its presence deafening the doctor as Jane’s long fingers washed and dressed her wound. Hands that were more used to catching bad guys brushed gently over her skin sending electric shocks through her.

Pulling away slowly, Maura smiled. “Thank you.” She whispered, she didn’t trust her voice and she knew that Jane would always catch a tremble there. Lifting the bandaged hand to her lips, Jane grinned impishly and kissed the bandage. “There ya go, all better.” She said, dropping Maura’s hand and laughing warmly at the dark red hue that filled her cheeks.

“I’m going to meditate!” Maura announced suddenly, turning and leaving Jane in the kitchen alone before she had a chance to register the words. Watching her friend leave, Jane sighed and set about sweeping up the broken pieces of mug.

An hour later and Jane was bored. Daytime television left a lot to be desired and her phone calls to both Frost and Korsak yielded little fruit, serving only to scare her more than comfort. Her mind wandered back to Maura and whatever she had been writing when Jane had come into the room. She had been awfully jumpy and the way she looked at Jane. No, she was imagining it. Or was she? There was a definite hint of arousal in her expression, the tremble in her voice, both last night and this morning.
 Slowly she made her way to the bedroom, pushing the door open slowly. Maura was curled up on the bed, spooning with a pillow. From the even breaths she was taking, Jane knew she was asleep. She smiled and fought the urge to reach out and touch the sleeping doctor.