A/N: Wow - very humbled by the reviews and feedback - thank you! This rusty old writer appreciates it more than you know.

The Muse was already screaming at me for a Jane perspective shot to match the first one, I hope it does your comments and reading justice :) Thanks again

Tx

They always woke up this way.

The first time… to say it took Jane by surprise would have been an understatement. Back then, the fact she had woken up at all – meaning she had actually *slept* - was already a source of disorientation.

The other one… well…

She had felt the weight of an arm draped over her stomach, and her brain, still groggy from sleep, had attempted to process that piece of information. Where she was, who it belonged to.. how much she had to drink the previous night.. hang on, had she had anything to drink the previous night?

Afraid to turn her head lest she be greeted with the worst case of morning-after in human history, Jane's eyes had slowly shifted to her right, and then widened as they were met with…

A ruffled crop of blonde hair.

O-Kay, she had thought to herself, even as her fight-or-flight body had already begun to relax. This is… different.

That's Maura's arm.

That's Maura.

Jane had been trying to determine exactly how she felt about it when Maura had stirred beside her, causing Jane to freeze in place. Maura had inhaled deeply, stretched out her arm, then without waking rolled away onto her other side, away from Jane, who in turn let out the breath she herself had been holding.

Jane remembered thinking that they had been good friends for a long time– but even she wasn't sure how Maura would react if she woke up in that position. Even to this day, she hadn't tested the theory.

But that morning Jane had noticed immediately how the faint, comfortable warmth that she had woken with had gone missing – and as she had glanced across at her sleeping friend, Jane had moved her own arm across her stomach in the same place Maura's had just been, wiggling her fingers.

She had closed her eyes again with a small smile thinking... .there was always tomorrow.

The memory slowly faded as her eyes now glided over Maura's sleeping form, hidden by the silk sheets that covered them both. Gently, she curled her fingers around the forearm resting across her stomach, and smiled at the feeling of Maura's warm skin against her side, where Jane's red sox shirt had bunched up in her sleep.

To wake up before Maura had taken practice.

Now, she was an expert.

For the longest time, Jane would wake to find Maura busying with coffee, or breakfast, or some work she had to get done. Each time Jane would wake with a mixture of relief of having slept, and disappointment that she had been unable to recapture what they had had that first day.

How *right* it had felt.

Exactly like this. Just like it did now.

Jane let out a soft sigh and tilted her head to her right, nudging the top of Maura's head with her nose. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of Maura's shampoo; passionfruit and jasmine, as she tenderly ran her fingertips down the length of Maura's forearm, across to where her hand had curled around her side. Jane carefully interlaced their fingers – hers and Maura's and her skin – and almost instinctively drew in a soft gasp at the feeling.

Maura only stirred enough to pull even closer towards Jane. Jane smiled – remembering the times she had moved too quickly, pressed to tightly, and Maura had awoken. Not today. Not anymore. This is what she had practiced – no sudden moves, no surprises.

Jane breathed in slowly, allowing the perfume of Maura's shampoo to wisp lazily into her lungs.

She still used the same shampoo after all this time.

The second opportunity Jane had had, months later - had been a particularly difficult day for Maura. Jane had sensed it. They had an unspoken deal where all one of them would have to do would be to bring a bag with them to work, and the other would know what it meant.

Bodies were piling up, Maura couldn't link them scientifically but Jane knew, Jane knew Maura's gut was telling her they were linked. The problem was, the science wasn't. It was frustrating Jane to no end as well, but Maura ran herself ragged trying to find the clues – as if she alone had the power to stop the killer. And she did… but it took time. Somewhere in between it all Jane had made the call – they needed it, amongst all the craziness. She had brought her bag, half expecting that Maura would decline, or find some way around the unspoken agreement. It lightened Jane's heart when she didn't.

She had known after the first glass of wine that night that Maura needed sleep. Half way through and her speech was thick with exhaustion, her eyes heavy and posture defeated. Suddenly Jane was reaching for Maura's hand… guiding her towards the bedroom, helping her out of her pressed shirt and perfect in-line skirt, into her pyjamas.

They had fallen asleep together, and Maura's exhaustion had clearly got the better of her.

Jane had woken first the next day; a good hour earlier than she normally would have. But the curled fingers resting over her heart had told her then and there, this was how it needed to be.

Maura would never know, but Jane would learn. And she had learned, and she had practiced, and now, this was her routine.

A new smile tinted Jane's lips – she reached up slowly, carefully pulling the wisps of Maura's hair away from her face. This was the woman who could break emotion down to its basic synaptic responses, who could likely dissect the senses into no more than two chemical reactions. Detached. Scientific. Logical.

Maura nodded her head closer into Jane, turning her cheek down against her shoulder, her nose close against Jane's neck. Her fingers tightened in her sleep, pressing reassuringly through Jane's own fingers into the skin of Jane's side. Then they relaxed again, her soft snores resuming only moments later, muffled partly by Jane's shoulder as much as her pillow.

This was why Jane relished these moments – behind all of the walls, the science, the detachment… this was the real Maura Isles; and even in the roughest, the most desperate of times, Jane knew she could find her peace in the space between the night and the day. Right here.

Jane brought her right arm up between them and placed it gently against Maura's stomach, her thumb tracing a line from her ribs down to the top of her hip bone.

Detached to everyone but me.

Just me.

Jane longed to spend all day like this. But that was never how it worked. There was always somewhere to be, somewhere to go. A case, a call, a commitment… and Jane would be Detective and she would be Chief Medical Examiner and this – all of this – would melt away into the background. A quick glance at the clock and Jane knew she had over-indulged. It was past 7 o'clock. Maura hated it when she slept past 7, even though she never needed to get up any earlier.

With a sigh, Jane pressed her lips into the top of Maura's forehead, feeling the familiar dip in the mattress as Maura stretched, rolled over, and resumed what would be the last 10 minutes of sleep.

Jane couldn't help herself – she reached out and rested the back of her hand against Maura's shoulder blade. Anything, *anything* to maintain the contact a moment longer. She felt her friend lean into her under her touch and smiled.

There is always tomorrow.

Quietly Jane extracted herself from the bed, silently making her way to the kitchen and the space capsule that was Maura's coffee machine.

If she had to wake her up, she was going to do it in style.

- End