A/N: Thanks to kabensi for laughing, beta-ing, and researching with me throughout the process of writing this fic.

"Ugh, Maura. Turn it off," Jane griped, reaching past Maura in a lunge for the remote. Maura merely held the remote out of her reach and blinked interestedly at the television for a few more seconds before navigating away. "That's better," Jane sighed.

Maura looked at her curiously. She thought they'd been enjoying Chelsea Handler's new series, the first episode of which explored marriage and the many permutations thereof. Jane had certainly seemed invested, and they'd laughed a lot together. It had been almost a year since Jane had rejected Casey's marriage proposal, and since then, she seemed to share Maura's benign ambivalence about marriage—a viewpoint Chelsea Handler projected as well.

"Were you not enjoying the show?" Maura asked, surprised and a little disappointed.

"Not…that part," Jane growled, taking a swig of her beer. She shook her head and drew her hand across her mouth. "Sorry. We can continue, but just…can we skip that part?"

Maura thought back, and it dawned on her. She hadn't thought much about it, but Jane had made her turn off the scene in which two women described being sister-slaves to their Sir, in a BDSM triad. She regarded Jane quietly for a moment, "The BDSM part?"

Jane shuddered, "Those women, talking about having to ask permission to even eat? No, that's disgusting. I don't need to see that."

"It appears to be mutually pleasurable to all involved," Maura offered.

"That's…fine. It's fine. They can do what they want, but I don't want to think about it," Jane rambled.

"Perhaps you'd have found it more palatable if the dominant had been female?" Maura said, a little slyly. Jane was always so weirdly demure about sex, Maura did like to push her every once in awhile.

In reply, Jane just laughed, "That doesn't offend me so much, but I still can't take it seriously. I mean, a guy on his knees obeying his woman is just…sad, you know?"

"I don't know about that. Some people find power exchange to be very freeing."

"I don't," Jane responded firmly.

Now Maura regarded her with interest, picking up her wine glass and turning toward Jane on the couch. Jane still hadn't made eye contact with her during this whole discussion about BDSM, which intrigued Maura greatly. "Are you speaking from experience?" she asked.

Jane laughed again, a sharp sound, but didn't answer, just polished off her beer and rose from the couch to get another.

"Oh, come on," Maura turned further to watch Jane walk to the fridge. "I'll share if you do," she put a hint of seduction in her tone, and watched the involuntary smile emerge on Jane's face.

Jane flopped back down on the couch, still avoiding eye contact, but she shifted so that she was at least mostly facing Maura now. "I already told you," she mumbled, "Basically, anyway."

Maura thought for a long moment, and then it came to her. "Ah," she smiled triumphantly, "The two types you date."

"Yeah," Jane confirmed with a touch of bitterness. "Type two: the ones who just want me to use the handcuffs."

Maura settled back against the couch in satisfaction, "So, what happened?"

Jane sighed, "Usually when I realize that's what they're after, it's over. But there was one time I gave it a try. I was…I dunno. Desperate, I guess." Maura nodded encouragingly, keeping her eyes on Jane as she sipped her wine. Jane was working on peeling the label off her beer as she spoke. "So…I tried it. Handcuffed him, and he was happily on his knees ready to obey my every whim. He…wanted me to threaten him with my gun. Unloaded, of course," she added quickly, catching Maura's eye. "And I just…I couldn't do it. I felt stupid, and disgusted by him. I kicked him out before we really got anywhere." She shook her head and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "That's how I know it's not for me."

Maura digested the information over another sip of wine, watching the way Jane continued to awkwardly pick at her beer label, until she finally looked up and gestured at Maura, "All right, your turn," she said quickly.

Maura nodded and spoke calmly. "For me, I suppose, it was better in theory than in practice. I've always enjoyed a bit of light power play—being held down, and I've been tied up a couple of times."

Jane snorted, interrupting. "You? Submissive?" But it wasn't disgust in her eyes.

Maura shrugged, "As I said, power exchange can be freeing. Besides, I've tied up a lover before as well. But once I was seeing a guy who was really into it, and it sounded hot when he talked about it, but the practice was how I realized that for me it doesn't go much beyond a little fun restraining. I couldn't call him 'Master' without laughing. And I'm not into obedience or pain. He was. It didn't last."

Jane looked a little sour at her words, and shook her head. "You let him—" she started.

"I didn't let him, Jane. That was the point. I wasn't into it." Maura spoke clearly, waiting for Jane's discomfort to pass, which it slowly did at her words. Jane sagged back into the couch cushions as if in relief.

"Geez," she shook her head.

"There's plenty of scientific evidence that kink is very healthy," Maura informed her, "BDSM may not be for me beyond bondage, but there are other things I've always wanted to try."

Jane took a long swig of beer. "I need to be so much more drunk for this conversation," she muttered.

Maura laughed, "Come on. I've heard it's relatively common for best friends to discuss sex."

"Yeah, but like, probably not usually in this detail," Jane frowned over her beer thoughtfully, "I don't think, anyway."

"You don't know either!" Maura pointed an accusatory finger. "You're just trying to avoid the topic because sex makes you uncomfortable."

"Am not!" Jane protested, shifting forward on the couch. "Fine," she leaned back again with forced calm, "Fine, we can talk about it. I'm…totally down with talking about it." She nodded, took another healthy gulp of her beer.

Maura grinned widely, "This will be fun. Okay, so, I've always been interested in retifism."

"Which is?" Jane asked impatiently.

"It's a subset of foot fetishism, specifically—"

"Eww, Maura. Feet are…just gross."

"Not just feet. You didn't let me finish. Shoes."

"You have a shoe fetish?" Jane asked, then chuckled, "I guess I shouldn't be that surprised."

"I don't know if I'd consider it a paraphilia of mine. I'm merely interested in exploring it."

"Well, it's a definite 'no' for me. Next?"

"What about shibari?" When Jane just gave her a look and polished off her beer, Maura clarified, "Japanese rope bondage?"

"What makes it different from regular bondage?" Jane asked, getting up a little unsteadily to get another beer.

"Oh, it's much more artistic. Here, let me show you."

Jane whipped her head around in surprise, but relaxed as she realized Maura was heading to the bookshelf. She rejoined Maura on the couch and poured her friend some more wine as Maura opened the book.

"See?" she asked, turning pages of photographs of people, mostly women, dangling from or supine in restraints. "Much more artistic than the typical trussed-up-like-a-turkey look you see in most Western bondage."

"Um. Yeah. Very artistic." Jane's eyes lingered on the photographs, though her brows were pulled together, perhaps in discomfort.

"Anyway," Maura closed the book and placed it on the coffee table, picking back up her wine. "I would need a lot of time to practice such a thing, and ultimately, it may not be practical for me to learn. Still, it's fascinating."

"Fascinating," Jane repeated neutrally.

Maura thought for a moment as she took a sip of wine, then said, "How do you feel about medical play?"

Jane coughed a little on her beer. "Like, playing doctor?" she asked.

"It's usually more involved than that and may involve medical instruments, such as a speculum in an orifice." Jane looked disgusted and a little puzzled. "I tried it once for a guy I was dating, but honestly, it was too similar to my job. I didn't enjoy it."

"Did he see you in your black scrubs? Because that's probably why he wanted to do it. You somehow manage to make those look really good." Jane looked away, turning the bottle around in her hand as if she'd never read its label before.

"Thank you," Maura smiled broadly at the compliment. "Perhaps if it were just the look, it would be fun, no?"

Jane just shrugged in response, still looking at the bottle.

"What about narratophilia? I'd like to try that someday."

Jane squinted, "What is that, like, sexy storytelling?"

"Good guess!" Maura inclined her head graciously, "But no. I believe the colloquial term is 'dirty talk.'"

"Oh," Jane's eyes were a little wide, and she laughed, "Yeah, I don't think I could ever do that one."

"No?" Maura frowned, "I've heard the concept is quite simple. You just talk about what you're doing to the person and what you want to do to them. Such as, 'I'm going to push you up against the wall and slide my fingers into your…'" Maura considered her words for a moment. Vaginal canal? Pussy? Warm, pulsing—

Jane, however, interrupted her considerations with a, "No! No, no, you don't need to finish that sentence. I get the concept, Maura."

"Why did you interrupt me? Was that effective? Ineffective?" Maura was genuinely interested in feedback, as off the cuff as her sentence had been.

"I just didn't need to hear any more."

"Fair enough. Perhaps hamartophilia would resonate with you?"

Jane snorted, "I like bacon, but not enough to want to cover my body with it or whatever ham art is supposed to mean."

"It is an arousal tied to committing acts you consider to be sinful."

Jane chuckled, once. "So, being Catholic? Yeah, I'd say pretty much everything I do is sexy ham art, then."

"Hamartophilia," Maura corrected again, but she was smiling. "You'd have to enjoy the acts because they're sinful though, not otherwise."

"Who says that isn't part of the thrill?" Jane smirked, sipped her drink. Then she tilted her head to the side, "I mean, sometimes there's not much else to enjoy about sex than the taboo, you know?"

Maura looked at her curiously. "I don't know about that," she answered. "I think I've enumerated several things I find interesting about sex. In addition, if it could be ethically done, ecouteurism."

"Wait, wait, don't tell me!" Jane held her palms out, a precarious hold on her beer. She stifled a laugh into her fist, then tried to straighten her face. "That's obviously a kink for cooters!" She dissolved into laughter.

Maura stared, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing with Jane. "I don't think that would count as a paraphilia, per se, it's more someone's sexual identity," she attempted to explain, but gave up, shaking her head and laughing with Jane.

They settled back against the couch as their laughter died down, smiling at each other as they both took a long sip of their drink. Maura licked her lips and regarded Jane over the rim of her wineglass. "There's also sthenolagnia," she said softly, "That interests me very much."

"What's that?" Jane asked, the words running together a bit. She swallowed, maintained eye contact, "Sounds like a dinosaur."

"The colloquial term is muscle worship," Maura's lips quirked as she watched Jane's eyebrows tick upward, "I believe it's most common among homosexual men, and typically involves one man watching the other man flex for his erotic benefit. Sometimes there's very little sexual contact between the men themselves. And obviously, as I can attest, it's not exclusively a paraphilia among homosexual men."

"I see," Jane said tonelessly, then scowled abruptly, "Wait, is that why you're always picking up gym rats?"

"Excuse me, I haven't dated a guy I met at the gym in a long time. And also, if you'll notice, none of them were really that beefy. I'm not really attracted to very muscular men."

"But…you just said you were into muscle worship," Jane deadpanned, looking at her as if she'd maybe lost her mind.

"Yes. However, what I find appealing is muscles on a feminine form."

"Muscular…girls, er, women, like…" Jane trailed off.

"Yes, like…" Maura reached out her arm. They'd somehow moved closer together as the conversation had gone on. Her hand stopped a few inches from Jane's arm, and then Maura curled her fingers back and dropped her hand.

"Oh," Jane said, and finished her beer. She stood up, and her wobble was more pronounced.

"There's no need to be ashamed," Maura stood, too, following Jane to the kitchen. "You have an exquisite form, and I'm merely admiring it." Jane stopped in front of the refrigerator, leaning against the counter to steady herself, and Maura said, cautiously, "Perhaps you should slow down."

"No. Yeah, you're right, Maura." She shifted her course toward the kitchen sink, pulling a cup out of the cupboard and filling it. She turned, facing Maura, as she downed the glass of water. "Sorry," she added once she'd finished. She dropped her gaze, rolling the glass between her palms. "I overreacted. Of course there's nothing wrong with you admiring my body. I mean, that's the whole point of working out, so people think you look good." She shrugged, and smiled, clearly trying for cocky.

"You do look good, Jane," Maura answered, eyes dropping to take in the strain of her t-shirt sleeve around her bicep, the obvious strength of her toned forearms.

Jane smirked and laughed, once. "So, what, would I just," she set down the glass and struck a pose, "flex for you?"

Maura swallowed and tried to arrange her face into a relaxed expression, "That's quite nice, thank you." Her eyes roamed Jane's form. She couldn't see more than her arms, but she knew enough to imagine the rest of Jane.

Jane chuckled openly and dropped her arms. "Wow," is all she said, shaking her head. She swept a hand through her hair and glanced at her watch. "Hey, it's getting late, and I shouldn't drive home. Mind if I stay here?"

"Of course," Maura nodded. Like Jane even needed to ask. "The guest room is set up for you." Like it always was.

"Thanks," Jane nodded. They stared at each other for another moment, then she said, "I should really get some sleep."

"Me, too," Maura agreed, "It's later than I thought."

It wasn't, really, but it was a reasonable time to retire. They said goodnight, and Jane headed upstairs. Maura gathered Jane's beer bottles and rinsed out her own wineglass before heading upstairs herself.

Falling asleep, Maura reflected that Jane hadn't really answered any questions about her own interests. Clearly, it would take more work to break through Jane Rizzoli's prudishness.