Chapter 2
Maura stared blankly out the window as Steve drove.
It was the first time she'd seen Jane in months. She'd thought about her friend almost every moment of every day since she had disappeared from protective custody. Since Colin's men had broken into her 'safehouse' and shot the man guarding her. Since she'd called her father, the mob boss Paddy Doyle and begged him to help her.
He'd kept his word; even while he was locked up, even though his second in command Colin Ferguson had made a play for power, there were still men who were loyal to him. Men who had helped her, like Steve, who had risked his life to go with her tonight in a last desperate attempt to get the evidence she needed to put Colin away. To end this madness. To get her life back so she could finally go home, go back to work, back to dissecting bodies and analyzing crime scenes and watching from a safe distance as Jane put the bad guys away.
Jane.
Maura closed her eyes and let her head rest against the glass of the passenger window. She hoped Jane was ok. The bullet had hit her right in the shoulder but it had gone straight through, she was sure of that. It should heal. It was her shooting arm, but she shouldn't be out of commission for long. Not that Jane would ever stop for something as minor as a bullet to the shoulder. Especially not when Maura was missing.
It was the first time Jane had seen her in months. What did she think had happened, when she was called to the homicide at what would turn out to be Maura's safehouse and found her minder's body? Agent Dean must have arrived soon after, must have told Jane what had been going on- that Maura had disappeared so suddenly because the FBI put her into protective custody. That the man lying on the floor in the cheap motel was supposed to be protecting her. That she was missing. That the FBI had no idea where she was.
Maura tried to blink away tears but they spilled over and ran down her cheeks. Had Jane thought she was dead? Had she been angry when Maura had disappeared? When Agent Dean told Jane that it was a choice; that Maura had chosen to leave her friend without a word, knowing that Colin wouldn't stop coming for her, and knowing that it was only a matter of time before Jane would be caught in the crossfire. Did she understand that? Did she understand why? Or did she just think that Maura didn't trust her enough to confide in her?
There had been no time to ask of course. No time for pleasantries, or even for a hurried exchange. It had all happened so quickly. Maura had gone to Paddy's old office, looking for the files on Colin- the evidence she needed to take him down. Paddy was smart; he never fully trusted anyone, not even his second in command. So he kept meticulous records of everything; enough evidence to put Colin away for a long time. She didn't know why Jane had been there; she hadn't expected in a million years to see her friend again. Not until all this was over, until Maura had put an end to it all.
She replayed the moment in her mind: standing in front of the safe in Paddy's office, her back to the door, Steve waiting outside with the engine running.
Maura had heard the deep growl of her voice first.
"Don't move."
Then the click of the safety coming off.
Maura had frozen, the jolt in her chest starting towards elation and then quickly spreading into fear. Jane shouldn't be here, couldn't be here, couldn't help her, she had to finish this now, on her own, with Jane at a safe distance. And then another realization.
Jane wouldn't know it was her.
Maura had changed her appearance soon after she'd escaped Colin's raid on the safehouse. Her hair was shorter, straight, and a deep chocolate brown. She had bangs, and she wore pants and flat shoes; more practical, easier to run.
"Show me your hands," Jane's voice came again. "Slowly."
Maura set the file she was holding carefully on the desk beside her, careful not to make any sudden moves, not to spin quickly to face the detective or move towards her, fighting the pull throughout in her body to do so. She had heard the tension in Jane's voice; she mustn't do anything to spook her, no matter how badly she wanted to see her face, to go to her. She must move slowly.
Maura raised her hands, and risked a careful, slow turn of her head, looking back behind her, finally catching sight of Jane poised in the doorway, her wild curls pulled back tightly, her arms stretched out, tensed, gun trained on Maura.
Their eyes locked.
"Jane," Maura whispered.
Recognition spread across the detective's face. Shock, disbelief... happiness?
"Maur...?" she managed to gasp.
"Jane!" Maura's voice broke as she turned fully to face her friend who, in two quick strides had crossed the room and was standing in front of her, arms quickly folding around her, pulling her into a desperate embrace that crashed them together.
Maura felt herself dissolving, even as she fought to maintain composure, fought to maintain the focus she knew she needed to get this done, to end it, to get her life back.
Jane was pressing her head into Maura's shoulder, breathing in deeply as if to steady herself, or to lose herself, to reassure herself that her friend was real, that Maura was here. That she was real, and safe.
Maura closed her eyes and momentarily allowed herself to get lost in Jane.
And then the crack of shots fired broke through their moment of calm. Jane had spun to face the source of the commotion but Maura had known already what was coming. She had grabbed the file, grabbed her friend's hand, and run.
And now Jane was on the floor of a dimly lit parking garage with a bullet hole in her shoulder.
And Maura was alone again.