Author's Note: daily updates as usual and reviews more than appreciated (the story may be a tad angsty, be warned).

"I can't help myself, I've got to see you again"

Prologue

Unzipping Maura's skirt reminded her of Christmas mornings and birthday parties except the impatience she used to show as a child when unwrapping presents had been replaced by the tantalizing effect of slowing down her gestures. She didn't rush into things anymore. She didn't pull on the piece of clothing with a barely controlled desire just to be able to brush Maura's pale skin. The lust that drove her crazy lay within a more delicate pace, one that she saw as addictive.

Sitting on the bed, she observed Maura's figure for a while. Maura had turned her back at her and she now patiently waited to be undressed. As usual, the apartment was quiet.

They called their encounters 'sessions', a semantic subterfuge that didn't fool anyone. It always happened at night and often after a glass of wine. A whole bottle, at times. They had their rituals and they knew each other by heart. It hadn't taken them to long to reach such level of connection. As a matter of fact, it had always been there. Somehow.

Her fingertips brushed Maura's hips. She simply wanted to follow these curves she then would kiss and fully feel under her caresses. The thin fabric of the pencil skirt separated her from the real object of her desire like an unbearable curtain. She had to get rid of it. Her hands reached the well shaped waist. She followed the invisible line of Maura's lower back until the cold metal of the zipper.

The first inches down released the beige silk shirt that Maura had bought a week earlier free from the clutches of the skirt before revealing to the dimmed light of the bedroom Maura's pale skin and the lace of her lingerie.

Maura scarcely wore thongs. She preferred the elegance of expensive hipsters and designs which names remained unknown to people who had very few fashion knowledge. The underwear she chose embraced her figure with delicacy and highlighted the femininity of her curves. There wouldn't be any garter belt that evening though, because the temperatures of the day had been high. Maura didn't wear stockings in the summer. She liked feeling the warm breeze on her legs and going up her thighs.

The skirt landed on the floor quietly.

The exploration of Maura's body resumed, from her thin ankles to her well rounded buttocks. The pace remained the exact same one in spite of Jane's lips now brushing Maura's skin. Her fingertips had ceased to dictate her gestures. The palm of her hands were flat on Maura's waist which betrayed her quiet arousal with subtlety. Foreplay only lasted for a while. Soon she would need more, a lot more than buttocks and hips.

The lace slid down Maura's legs.

Abstract patterns appeared on her buttocks. Invisibly. They were drawned by Jane's lips, by the tip of her tongue sliding on the flesh and by her fingertips. A firm grip on her side let Maura understand that she could finally turn around. Jane didn't wait any longer and she buried her face between the legs that had opened to her with eagerness.

They would get rid of the shirt eventually. Jane would get undressed and they would lie in bed properly. But not just yet for their evening had barely started.

...

"He says he's lonely, horribly lonely because of this love he feels for her. She says she's lonely too. She doesn't say why."

"The Lover... Marguerite Duras." The words slid on Maura's lips with a singular absent-mindedness. Her whisper passed unnoticed to everyone in the room but to Jane. "Very early in my life it was too late. A remarkable novel."

And oddly appropriate.

Jane didn't say anything back. She stared at the words that had been written on the wall with a black sharpie. And just at the foot of what could be seen as an inspiring quote lay the victim whom Maura now examined from every angle. Another crime scene, another investigation. Sometimes Jane thought that life was nothing but a vicious circle. She sighed before turning on her heels and walking towards the door to the backyard.

"Where are you going to?"

Maura hadn't looked at Jane once but she had felt her friend's presence in the room vanish little by little. Something was off, something that suddenly made her feel concerned. Jane shrugged.

"Dunno, outside. I need some fresh air."

There wasn't any fresh air. The night was hot and humid. Clothes stuck to moist skins and people waited for a potential storm impatiently. The atmosphere was electric. And dark. Gloomy. The AC had been cut in the house. It was a sauna inside.

Maura stood up. She gave her team a nod: the body was ready to be taken to the morgue. Her job was done here. She walked after Jane in the night. It was very out of character for Jane to feel the sudden urge to fly out of a crime scene. As a matter of fact, it had never happened since Maura had begun to work with her.

"Are you alright?"

The backyard looked like any backyard, with flowers on the right and an old table on the left. The lights had been turned on and a forensic team was still combing the area looking for clues. Jane had sat down on the stairs of the porch. With her eyes squinted, she seemed to be lost in mysterious thoughts.

"Yeah."

The brief answer didn't satisfy Maura the slightest bit. She glanced at the team that was at work a couple of feet away. She didn't want them to overhear the conversation she and Jane were going to have. It was none of their business.

"You sound tired. What do you do of your nights that you're lacking so much sleep?"

It was nothing but a provocation, a harmless one. And just as planned, it made Jane smile. She looked at Maura who had sat down next to her but she didn't say anything back immediately.

They had rules, rules that had been set implicitly and that they both respected with an implacable logic. Not alluding in public to what they did in private was one of them obviously. Thus Maura's remark was quite impish.

"Do you have a copy of that book? The one the quote's from: The Lover. I forgot the author's name, sorry."

Maura gave Jane a nod. She understood the reason why Jane had asked her such question. However, she wasn't sure that Jane reading the novel was a good idea. The similarities with their private, secret life may have an odd impact on Jane and it was the last thing Maura wanted.

"I can sum up the plot for you if you want to. Thus you won't lose time reading the whole novel. What do you think about it?"

Maura's heart began to beat faster. She had come up with a good argument but Jane's upcoming answer made her feel anxious. There were two Jane in her life: the one who worked for the BPD and the one who had sex with her at night. Both may have points in common, Maura still thought that the situation was quite close to Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde.

And it turned her on a lot.

"You said it was a remarkable novel so why don't you want me to read it? For once I'm okay with the idea..." Jane laughed lightly. "The title's rather explicit, I got it. You don't have to worry."

The quote that had been written on the wall was just as explicit. Of course, Jane hadn't missed the peculiarity of the situation but it didn't touch her as much as Maura thought it did.

"Autopsy at 9am tomorrow morning." Maura glanced at the forensic team anew. She lowered her voice. "Do you want to spend the night at my place?"

She could have sent Jane a text message once back in her car but the words had burnt her lips and she had felt the urge to say them out loud. The whisper had barely passed her lips anyway. Nobody but Jane was able to hear what she had just said.

Having sex after having worked on a crime scene brought an immense relief to a sore mind. It made Maura feel incredibly alive, and wanted. The surge of adrenalin found the perfect outlet in caresses and kisses before reaching its very own paroxysm in orgasms. Then she felt rested, at peace.

"I thought you said I sounded tired."

"Dr. Isles?"

The sudden interruption bothered Maura but she didn't let her frustration show. She turned her head around to look at the employee who had called her name.

"Yes, Frederick?"

"We need you to sign the forms..."

"Of course."

She stood up and cast a last glance at the backyard. It must have looked pretty in the fall, on a sunny day. She turned around and let her hand brush Jane's shoulder with discretion. Jane shivered under the touch.

Sometimes a gesture was worth a thousand words.