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Maura felt tired to the bone. The last couple of weeks were starting to take their toll on her body and mind. As she stood over Jane she was struck by the beauty and vulnerability of her friend. Vulnerable, Maura slowly turned the word over in her mind. Not a word that would usually be attributed to Jane Rizzoli. She was self-confident, clever, intuitive, beautiful and to be honest a little cocky at times, but never vulnerable. Before the incident Jane had seemed indestructible. A force of nature, larger than life.

Maura found herself transfixed staring at the shape of Jane’s lips. Her fingers itched to trace their outline, to feel their warmth under their tips. Lost in thought she ran her index finger over her own lips imagining it to be the brush of Jane’s on her own. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly a soft moan rising through her being, a mute Bass the only witness to her silent longing.