Author's note: Anybody else trying to forget that ridiculous coffee bomb scene from 4x15? Well, here's a different take on this idea. Some suspension of disbelief may be required because I had to improvise… But hey, at least there are no silly coffee pads in this one. Seriously, what the hell was Tamaro thinking?! There should have been two full episodes — one with a real bomb, and one with Maura's nosebleed situation. So much potential simply wasted…

Anyway… here it is. Just a one-shot this time (split into three chapters for easier readability). And if Tamaro can use a fake bomb to force a fake relationship, I might as well use a real bomb to force a real relationship, eh?

At some point in this story, they'll talk about a "pneumatic ratchet system". If you don't know what that is and if I fail to explain it properly, go to YouTube and search for "pneumatic vs bungee". There's a video by Jason Oettlé that'll show you how these things work. Fun stuff!

And as usual, the characters belong to Tess Gerritsen/TNT; the rest is my fault.

Last but not least, a special shout-out to a special friend, who unwittingly introduced me to this whole fanfiction thing. You know who you are. Happy (belated) birthday!

(PART 1)

…

It is precisely 7:44 a.m. on a breezy Monday in May when Jane and Maura arrive at BPD in the medical examiner's dark Prius and the rain finally stops again. For the third time this morning.

The first time was when Jane still lay sprawled out in bed, comfortably hidden under her duvet, with her mind lingering at the transition between being too sleepy to crawl out of bed and being too alert to ignore the pesky sound of Maura knocking on her bedroom door in anticipation of their planned morning run. It's pouring like hell out there… we'll have to reschedule, Jane murmured into her pillows. And just then, the rain stopped — resulting in her duvet being pulled away by an inappropriately cheerful Maura and her being forced to trade the warm sheets of her bed for the cold water of her shower to jump-start her tired bones.

But almost as soon as the first jets of water startled Jane's shivering skin, the clouds outside also regrouped, and just moments later, the city of Boston was getting showered again as well. And thus, as Jane emerged from her bathroom and the prospect of another hour in bed transformed her grumpy grimace into a triumphant smile, Maura's expression changed the other way round. But just when Jane opened her mouth to seal her victory with a mischievous joke, the downpour outside stopped as suddenly as it had begun. For the second time. And despite Jane's vocal protest, the skies refused to provide her with another excuse, leaving her no other choice than to follow Maura downstairs for their run.

Thirty minutes later, right when they returned to the shelter of Jane's apartment for a quick shower and a change of clothes, the rain also returned.

And now, as they're both sitting in Maura's car parked at the curb in front of BPD and Jane wonders whether she could squeeze in a quick nap while waiting for the rain to stop and her shift to begin, the weather thwarts her plans once again. Tiredly watching the last few drops sliding down the windshield, Jane huffs in frustration and grabs her blazer and gun before getting out of the car. And she is pretty sure that some cranky weather god in the clouds above is fighting his Monday morning blues by turning on and off his hose at exactly the right moments to annoy the hell out of her. Maybe she would have to arrange for a deicide before tackling today's homicide cases…

At least, the thought of treating her equally petulant stomach to a plate full of pancakes in the Division One Café prevents her own bad mood from getting worse. But as she marches to BPD's main entrance, she suddenly stops in mid-stride and realizes that a certain someone is missing at her side.

As Jane turns back around, she finds Maura still standing next to the driver's door of her car while absentmindedly putting on her wrinkle-free blazer. And in contrast to the hunger and discontent written all over the detective's face, the medical examiner's features are calm and composed, her cheeks still rosy from her earlier runner's high. Oblivious to her surroundings, she lets her eyes wander around, enjoys the fresh breeze and the scent of the rain.

And for a moment, the sight of the blonde in all her morning glory, with a few shy rays of sunlight peeking through the clouds and illuminating her profile, is enough to stifle the impatience still raging in Jane's veins. She pauses in silent admiration, her eyes fixed on Maura — until a distinctive growl in her stomach reminds her of a more urgent matter.

"Could you do your little melodramatic pause after we've had breakfast?" Surrendering to her Monday mood, Jane waves at Maura to hurry up.

Unimpressed and immune to the detective's mood after too many Mondays spent together, Maura smiles in amusement, locks her car, and strolls towards the BPD building — pointedly not hurrying. "If you had listened to me and had a nutritious breakfast before our run, your body wouldn't be craving carbohydrates right now."

"Your suggestion would've required me to get up at 5:30," Jane moans as they reach the main entrance. "And really, I'd do a lot for you, but we gotta draw the line somewhere."

Choosing quite wisely not to argue with the grumpy detective this early in the week, Maura enters the building as Jane habitually holds the door open, then makes a beeline for the elevator down to the morgue.

Confused by the blonde's apparent disinterest in a pit stop at the Division One Café, Jane calls after her. "Uh, hello?! Breakfast is served over here…"

But in contrast to Jane, Maura did provide her body with the necessary fuel for their morning run, and now she is eager to get to work. "I told you I'd have to check the lab results for Detective Crowe's case first thing in the morning."

For a few seconds, Jane's eyes switch back and forth between Maura and the café — longing equally for both options, with an almost negligible momentary preference for pancakes. But when Maura continues making her way towards the elevator, Jane slouches her shoulders with a sigh and rushes after the blonde. "It's too late for that anyway — you've already done at least eight or nine other things this morning… fifteen if we count each pair of shoes you tried on."

Her smirk is met with a subtle eye-rolling from Maura as they're both waiting for the elevator.

"Come on, Crowe is a jerk," Jane begs again, the thought of her mother's sweet pancakes still feeding her hopes to change Maura's mind. "Let him stew a little longer…"

"I prioritize your cases all the time," Maura points out. "Every once in a while, I will have to treat your colleagues the same or I will get accused of giving you favorable treatment."

"No, no," Jane protests firmly. "I've actually earned that favorable treatment."

Head tilted and eyebrow raised, Maura studies her face in curiosity. "Really? How?"

Certain of her impending victory, Jane grins. "I got four words for you: yoga, kale, and babysitting-your-stupid-turtle!"

"Those were seven words, and one of them was so wrong that it might lose you some of your priority points…" When the elevator door finally opens, Maura steps inside. "Just go and have your pancakes. I'll join you as soon as I'm done downstairs."

Ignoring her stomach screaming yes, yes, yes, Jane poutingly follows her into the elevator and pushes the down button. "No, you can't let me have breakfast alone — I might accidentally enjoy it when you're not there nagging me."

"You're always so charming in the morning," Maura teases back.

And the blonde's obvious joy at having prevailed against the temptation of a plate full of pancakes temporarily fills Jane with another kind of satisfaction. At least for a few moments — until the lack of actual nutrients makes her stomach growl again. A little embarrassed, she glances at Maura from the side. "Just FYI, if this elevator gets stuck, I might have to resort to cannibalism…"

Seconds later, they step out of the elevator and into the hallway leading to the Crime Lab and to the Chief Medical Examiner's premises. The clacking of heels and the stomping of boots echo from the walls of an otherwise quiet floor until the two women reach the door to Maura's office, and she fishes her key out of her purse.

"Remind me to pick up the file for the McCollough case," Maura murmurs, more to herself than to Jane. "I'll have to check some details for my testimonial."

Stopping halfway through a yawn, Jane perks up at the mention of that case. "When is that again?"

"Wednesday afternoon," Maura announces as she turns the key but then pauses when she finds her office already unlocked. Assuming that one of her over-zealous assistants must have been inside before her, possibly to deliver some case files or to prepare the first autopsy of the day, the medical examiner shrugs and enters the room, turns on the lights, and flicks the switch on a power strip to boot up her computer.

Casually dropping her blazer on Maura's office couch, Jane trudges inside as well. "Well, hopefully, there won't be any further delays…"

"Don't worry," the blonde assures her. "The case is clear now. He won't get out of this."

"Sure hope so. It's about time that bastard got locked up for the rest of his life," Jane mutters, her tiredness mixing with shades of anger as she remembers the McCollough case. What initially looked like a possible suicide or natural death quickly turned into a homicide investigation revolving around Darren McCollough and his meticulous preparations of his wealthy wife's untimely demise. He had thought of almost everything — from faking a happy marriage when strolling through their Dorchester neighborhood with his wife, to securing himself an alibi in the form of a two-week business trip, to using thallium as his weapon of choice. And after mixing the fast, tasteless, and almost undetectable poisoner's poison with his wife's bottled water at home, so the deed would be done after his return from his trip, all he had to do was play the grief-ridden widower and rightfully inherit his wife's fortune. But there were two things that Darren McCollough hadn't expected. The first was that a certain medical examiner had, coincidentally, read about thallium poisoning just a few days before performing her autopsy of Mrs. McCollough. And the second was that the same medical examiner would deviate from her usual refusal to guess and instead follow her hunch based on the victim's inexplicable loss of hair, a common side-effect of smaller doses of thallium. And eventually, after rigorous lab testing and even more rigorous gumshoeing of the homicide squad, the team at BPD unraveled McCollough's insidious plan, tracked down his order of thallium-containing pesticides from overseas, and handed him over to the prosecution.

As Jane's thoughts wander from their felon's fate to that almost natural match of her detective instincts and Maura's endless expertise that has landed so many suspects behind bars, a smile slowly appears on her lips — until Maura sits down in her chair and an eerily familiar clicking noise rips the detective from her reverie.

And instantly, her pulse soars up. "Don't move, Maura!"

"What?" Confused, the medical examiner freezes, still leaning forward as she was about to reach for her keyboard to log into her computer.

"Just don't move," Jane repeats, swallows hard, and rushes to Maura's side.

Afraid to find her gut instinct confirmed, and even more afraid of the consequences of such confirmation, Jane kneels down and looks under Maura's chair. And there is the source of that clicking noise — a tiny black box fixed to the seat, with two blinking red dots and a few wires wound around the chair's leg.

Suppressing the fear suddenly gripping her body, Jane keeps a straight face and looks up. "Well, the good news is, you won't have to worry about my unhealthy breakfast any longer…"

But Maura recognizes the subtle timbre of panic that the detective is trying to conceal from her voice. "And… the bad news…?"

"I think you're sitting on a bomb."

Hit by the full force of this verbal bombshell, Maura stiffens, clutches the chair's armrests, fights the urge to jump up and to run away as fast as she can.

And Jane knows that they will only get out of this now if they resist their instincts, if they stay exactly where they are, if they remain calm. A split second before Maura gives in to her panic and raises from her seat, Jane reaches for her hands, provides both comfort and pressure that prevents her from getting up. "Don't worry. Just sit still for a moment… Maybe it's a fake…"

But even though the touch of their hands has the desired effect, it cannot stop Maura's brain from analyzing her predicament. "Why would someone place a fake bomb under my chair?"

Biting her lip and mentally playing through all possible scenarios herself, Jane squeezes Maura's hands a little tighter. "I'll call Frost and Korsak, and we'll figure it out, alright?"

Without waiting for a response, Jane whips out her cell phone, speed-dials her partner's number, skips all courtesies. "Frost, it's me. We have a little situation in Maura's office. We are—" She pauses mid-sentence, and an angry frown fills her face when Frost's sniggering and a whispered joke to Sergeant Korsak in the background reaches her ear. "No, not that kind of situation, Frost! It's serious — call the bomb squad, get Korsak, and move your asses down here! Right now!"

She hangs up and glances under the chair again. Trying to focus on the who, when, and why, she somehow musters a reassuring smile for Maura. "It's gonna be fine…Just do your yoga breathing or something…"

But the change from lighthearted morning banter to a deadly rendezvous with a bomb is too sudden, and even though Maura tries her best, a few rounds of pranayama aren't enough to wipe the shock off her face.

Just then, as Jane is still kneeling next to Maura and holding her hand while the blonde is barely able to suppress her tears, Senior Criminalist Susie Chang appears in the door frame and stops dead in her tracks at the sight.

"Uh, I'm… sorry…," she stutters, awkwardly fidgeting with the paper report in her hands. "I… I didn't mean to… uh…"

But as uncomfortable as the encounter is for Susie, as necessary it is for Maura — a welcome distraction and a reason to focus on the safety of somebody else than on the danger for herself. "Are the DNA results for the Schuyler case already in?"

Still unsure of the proper protocol, and feeling Jane's piercing stare penetrate her skin, Susie nods faintly. "Yes, I've sent you an e-mail with—"

"Could you please go upstairs and inform Detective Crowe then?" A regained sense of determination fills Maura's voice. "He is urgently awaiting these results."

"Uh, yes, sure…" Susie finally manages to avert her eyes and begins her retreat.

"Thank you, Susie," Maura smiles politely, and relief fills her heart at the certainty of her assistant's safety.

But then the young criminalist hesitates and turns back around, curiosity winning over her habitual respect, or fear, of the detective that is so often found by Maura's side. "Are you two…?"

"No, we are not," Maura quickly denies. "Please, take care of Detective Crowe's case."

Not quite convinced but eager to tap into her other resources at BPD to find out what is going on, Susie withdraws from her spot and hurries to the elevators.

"We are not what?" Jane asks casually as she focuses her attention back on that dreadful bomb, her fingers still entwined with Maura's.

"Doing what she thought we were doing…," Maura murmurs absentmindedly, then inhales deeply to let another pranayama interval slow down her racing pulse.

"And what would that be?" Blissfully unaware, Jane studies the combination of wires and blinking dots that might make her Monday morning even worse.

Closing her eyes, Maura exhales as calmly as possible before she continues to speak. "She obviously thought you were proposing to me."

"What?!" Jane's head jolts up, bumps against the armrest of the chair. "Oww!" Rubbing her head, she notices Maura's startled look caused by the unexpected attack on her chair. "Sorry… But why the hell would Susie think that?"

Wondering whether her current situation could get even more delicate, Maura opts for the response least likely to give her hives. "Why would Detective Frost make a suggestive joke when you tell him that we have a situation down here?"

But the detective fails to pick up on the clues presented to her. Or maybe she just wants to keep up her pretense. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Jane."

"No, I—"

Cutting their moment short, Detective Frost storms into the office, with Sergeant Korsak in tow. "What's going on?"

"Under her chair." Without letting go of Maura's hand, Jane leans backwards to allow the two men access to the explosive threat. "Did you call the bomb squad?"

"Yeah, they're on their way," Frost confirms and kneels down, his actions mirrored in a slightly slower and less agile way by Korsak.

"She sat down, and there was this clicking sound," Jane explains. "It's probably a pressure switch. And I guess, as soon as she gets up, it will… you know…"

"The bomb will go off," Maura finishes her sentence. "You can say it, Jane."

When Maura's eyes betray the fear she is hiding from her words, Jane steadies her own voice. "It won't go off, Maura. We'll get you outta here in a minute…"

"Looks like it has two triggers," Korsak interrupts them and points at the setup under the chair. "See that watch?"

Carefully bending down, Jane notices a small watch attached to the back of the black box. "Yeah…"

"Seems to be part of a second mechanism to make sure she can't just sit on the chair forever," the sergeant sighs.

Swallowing hard at the implications, Jane exchanges worried glances with her former partner. "How long?"

Korsak raises his eyebrows in concern, hesitates to put a deadline on Maura's life. "It's an analog watch…"

But Jane needs to know. "Meaning…?"

"One full round of the watch hand at most," the sergeant admits quietly. "Less than an hour now…"

And as the three detectives under her chair are still debating their options, Maura has already made her decision. "You should all leave."

But her suggestion is met with distinct disapproval.

"I'm staying," Frost declares resolutely. "I don't have any other plans."

"Me neither," Korsak agrees without hesitation, then heaves himself up, and nods to Frost. "Let's move her desk out of the way for the bomb squad."

As the two men carry the wooden desk aside, Jane's and Maura's eyes meet, and a silent alliance is formed. Apologetically, Jane turns to her homicide squad partners. "Actually… you two should leave—"

"Forget it, Jane," Frost objects. "We're partners, and Doctor Isles is one of us, so we—"

"You need to check the surveillance camera, Frost," Jane adds emphatically. "Find out when this bomb was placed and by whom. Maybe it'll help us defuse it."

Sensing a ruse, Frost looks at Korsak for support. But the sergeant just nods quietly.

Halfway through with her plan, Jane turns to Korsak. "And could you check upstairs if my mother is already in? She's expecting us for breakfast, and I don't need her to come down here… Tell her, we had to leave for a case or something…"

But now it is Korsak who cannot help but feel manipulated into leaving Maura's office. "You just want to get us out of here…"

"Please, Korsak."

Sensing the sergeant's hesitation, Maura smiles at him as convincingly as possible, given the circumstances. "It's alright. You can't do anything for me right now."

Giving up his fight, Korsak heaves a sigh, then drags Frost with him to the door. "Don't you dare get yourself blown up while we're gone!"

As soon as the two men are out of sight, Maura turns to Jane. Casually. "We have to make sure that no evidence is lying around in case this bomb goes off. Can you check my autopsy tables and—"

"Nice try, Maura," Jane cuts her off. "I'm not leaving you."

Maura bites her lip, worry filling her face. "We don't know how the triggers of this bomb work. It could go off any minute and—"

"Yeah, which is why I'll stay until I know you're safe." The detective's stubborn stare leaves no doubt about her intentions.

"This isn't a drill, Jane," the medical examiner protests nonetheless. "You could die."

"So could you," Jane counters. "I'm staying. End of discussion."

Defeated, Maura buries her face in one hand, rubs her nose and eyes with trembling fingers, tries to control her breathing again.

Unable to just sit and wait, Jane scoots closer, searches for a way to distract them both from the relentlessly ticking watch under the chair. "When was the last time you were in here?"

"Saturday afternoon, before we left," Maura murmurs without looking up.

"Did you lock your office?"

"I'm not sure…"

"Try to remember," Jane whispers, intent on getting Maura's brain to focus on anything but that bomb.

"I can't," Maura subtly shakes her head. "I was… distracted…"

"Distrac—" Jane's question comes to a sudden stop as she remembers how they left together two days ago, and how she kept on teasing Maura about one of her morgue techs' obvious crush on her. She doesn't quite know why she felt so inclined to probe the medical examiner for any signs of reciprocal feelings, but she does know that it might have sufficed to make her forget about her usual security routines. "Oh… I'm… sorry…"

Sensing the self-incriminating tone in the detective's voice, Maura peeks through her fingers and finds Jane absentmindedly staring at the floor, her eyes full of guilt. Roles reversed, she squeezes Jane's hand. "Even if my office was unlocked, they still would have needed to get past the security check to come down here."

Her eyes still fixed on some imaginary spot on the floor, Jane nods and somehow recalls the catalog of questions for cases like this. "Did you notice anything suspicious? Or did you get any threats?"

"No…"

For a few seconds, both women silently stare into the distance.

And inevitably, Maura's thoughts drift off again. "We should have gone for breakfast…"

Finally, the despair in the blonde's voice helps Jane snap out of her trance. Remembering her duty as a cop, and as a friend, and as so much more, she directs her attention back at Maura and smirks. "I promise we'll have breakfast soon. And I'll have some extra greasy pancakes so you can nag me all you want."

Seeking comfort in those familiar features, Maura musters a faint smile, clings to the detective's optimism.

"Just stay calm and sit still for a few more minutes, okay?"

"I'll try…"

Heavy silence fills the office again — but then, as if out of nowhere, a middle-aged man, dressed in a bomb squad uniform, storms into the room, a much too cheerful smile on his tanned face. "So, you two ladies havin' a little problem here?"

Not amused by the man's inappropriate enthusiasm, nor by the fact that he is all by himself, Jane frowns and glances at his name tag. "Don't tell me this is going to be a one-man show, Officer… Arroyo?"

"You can call me Dedo," he says before kneeling down next to Maura's chair. "The rest of my team and your sergeant are getting some equipment."

As if on cue, Korsak returns to the office, wheezing and red in the face. He quickly steps aside to make way for two more bomb squad officers carrying safety and scanning equipment.

Dedo points at the two men. "Meet Officers Fisher and Johnson… Now, let's get rid of this little sucker, shall we?" Without waiting for a response, he crawls under Maura's chair to scrutinize the still ticking box but then smirks up at the blonde. "Sorry, I usually buy a lady dinner before going down on her… guess we'll have to skip that part."

Secretly wishing their chatty companion were sitting in Maura's place, Jane grimaces at her but then decides to better keep an eye on the activities going on under that chair. As she catches a glimpse of Dedo's hand, she notices that he is missing his right little finger. "Uh, don't take this the wrong way, but what's your success rate in defusing bombs?"

Dedo glances at the brunette from the corner of his eye, notices her pointing at his hand. "Oh, that. Don't worry, it happened twenty years ago. Haven't lost any other body parts ever since."

"That's… reassuring…," Jane frowns, feeling anything but reassured.

"Hey, at least it got me a cool nickname," the bomb squad leader murmurs as he continues to examine the bomb.

When Jane doesn't quite get his nickname reference, Maura gladly helps out. "Dedo is Spanish for finger…"

"That is correct," Dedo confirms from under the chair. "Hablas español?"

"Solo un poco…," Maura replies, thankful for his attempt to distract her.

While everybody is waiting for Dedo's initial assessment, Jane turns to Korsak. "Did you find my mother?"

"Not in yet," the sergeant says. "Frost is upstairs checking the surveillance videos. And Cavanaugh is on his way back here from a meeting with the Mayor…"

"Alright, ladies," Dedo sits up and signals Fisher to join him on the floor. "We have a dual trigger system here: a pressure switch attached to the chair and an extra timer to make sure this sucker will blow up before you have a chance to get too comfortable…"

"Cut to the chase," Jane demands impatiently.

"We have about forty minutes to get rid of it," Dedo declares as bluntly as requested. "And unfortunately, your bomber didn't leave us any instructions on how to defuse it."

"But you do know how to do that, right?" Jane's piercing eyes refuse to settle for his ambiguous answer.

"We'll see," Dedo states hesitantly, afraid that the detective facing him might go off even before that bomb. "There aren't enough explosives to blow up the whole building… but definitely enough to rip a person nearby into pieces."

"Oh, don't be shy with the gory details here!" Deciding to send Dedo to a much needed sensitivity training, Jane tries to keep her impatience under control. Feeling angrier and more helpless by the minute.

As Maura senses her uneasiness, she soothingly rubs her thumb over the back of Jane's hand and turns to Dedo to break the stalemate. "What do you need me to do?"

"I'm afraid you can't do anything but sit still right now," Dedo admits, Jane's resultant glare making him grasp for a few words of comfort. "But don't worry, we'll get you off this chair." When he notices several people gathering in front of Maura's office, he nods to Johnson. "But first, we're gonna get everybody else outta here!"

Like a dog guiding a flock of sheep, Johnson shoves the curious crime lab assistants towards the elevators. But just like stubborn sheep, some of them refuse to be shooed away. And just moments later, a few lab coats find their way back to Maura's office door, with Susie at the front line. "Doctor Isles, what is going on?"

"No, no! No more people in here!" Dedo jumps up, prevents her from getting any closer. "Sorry, private party today." He pushes her back outside, whistles for Johnson to help him clear the hallway.

Noticing the hustle and bustle at her door, Maura sends her loyal assistant a stern look. "Susie, get everybody from the Crime Lab upstairs. Including yourself!" When the young criminalist still stands frozen to the ground, the medical examiner raises her voice. "Go! Now!"

Reluctantly, Susie finally obeys and follows everybody else upstairs, allowing the evacuation of the adjacent labs to complete.

For a few moments, Dedo stands guard in the door frame until he is sure that there won't be any further interruptions. But just as he is ready to leave his spot, Frost returns and expects to be let inside. Rolling his eyes, Dedo holds him back. "Sorry, you need to turn around right away."

Confused, the young detective looks over Dedo's shoulder and into Maura's office. "Jane…?"

When she spots her partner, she nods at Dedo. "It's alright, he belongs to us."

Sighing to himself, Dedo lets him pass, closes the door behind them, and they all gather in the office — Jane and Maura still inseparable at her chair, Fisher underneath it and now joined by Dedo again, and Korsak and Frost standing nearby.

Eager to reveal his news, Frost grabs the keyboard of Maura's computer, hits a few keys, and turns her monitor so that she can see it from her chair. "Someone's been in your office… hold on."

He opens a command-line interface to connect to another server, clicks through several directories, then opens a video file showing the exterior of Maura's office near the elevators. The time code dates the footage to Saturday. Frost fast-forwards through the file as Jane, Maura, and Korsak are waiting with bated breath.

Moments later, when the time code has switched to Sunday night, the video shows a man in a Tyvek suit rushing down the hallway with a backpack in his hand, then sneaking into Maura's office, and all the while shielding his face as if he knew exactly where the cameras were.

At the sight of the intruder, Maura stiffens and Jane frowns. "What the hell…?"

…

(END PART 1)