"And when did you stop loving me?" Maura asked pointedly, wanting to hear the reality they'd been avoiding for the better part of their divorce.

"I haven't," Jane confessed, peeling the label from the bottle. "And I don't think I'm going to any time soon."

From her place on the couch, Maura was silent. She watched as a deep blush rose upon Jane's cheeks.

"I'm holding you back," Maura stated. "Aren't I? Asking you to come with us on vacation. Family dinner every Sunday. I'm using our daughter to hold on to you."

Jane looked up, eyes charcoal. "You're not. I don't want to move on."

"You should."

"I can't. I tried, and I couldn't." The pounding of Jane's heart would not cease for even a moment. A cold sweat was breaking over her skin. "You ruined me for anybody else."

Jane's words were a heavy weight which settled upon Maura's shoulders. Maura was not modest enough to misinterpret Jane's confession as harmful. Maura knew exactly how deeply she had loved Jane. How she had showered her with affection, admiration, lust and attention.

Jane licked her lips. "I want to ask you something…and you don't have to answer me. I just want…I need to know. Have you slept with anybody since me?"

She didn't want to hurt Jane. Truly. Maura hated that the truth felt powerful on her tongue. "Yes."

Jane stood up, jealousy coursing through her veins like venom. It had been six years. Of course Maura had been with somebody else. Jane leaned against the glass door of the balcony. "Was it a man or a woman?"

The room was still.

"Does it matter?" Maura whispered. She stood up, and began to collect Jane's empty beer bottles from the table.

"Of course it matters," Jane snapped, following Maura into the kitchen. "You probably can't remember, but there's a slight difference."

Jane's biting words raked over a layer of memory across Maura's heart. You probably can't remember. Maura couldn't think of anything else. Not now. Not when she was lying naked and sweaty beneath Annie's heavy, very male swimming coach in her marital bed, feeling as though she was falling and failing all at once. Never could Maura ever forget. Jane, Jane, Jane…

"Fuck you," Maura hissed, her eyes watering with anger and sorrow. "You don't get to have an opinion. You had more women than just Cara. I know it."

Jane's hands trembled. "But I could pretend."

Maura didn't have to ask Jane to elaborate.

"You're making this more than it is."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jane asked, her words slurring, betraying the sober stance she held.

"It means that you're hyperbolising the joys of our marriage, Jane. Of me," Maura's voice hitched. She placed the empty bottles in the sink, and gripped the edge of the counter. "We were not good together," she claimed.

Jane moved to stand next to the doctor.

"But we were. We were so good together." Jane reached out to tuck a wave of honey blonde behind Maura's ear.

But Maura brushed her hand away. "Don't."

They stood there for a moment, the distant sound of the crackling fireplace reminding them to stay quiet. Their daughter was asleep upstairs.

Jane watched Maura's eyelids slip closed.

"Maura."

The blonde did not open her eyes.

"I want to try again."

Maura's eyes remained closed. Slowly, her lips parted. Jane licked her own as she lowered her gaze to Maura's. She'd give anything, anything, just to feel them, alive and warm, against hers again.

"I don't know if I can," Maura husked.

Slowly, she opened her eyes.

"I'm scared, Jane."

Jane's heart ached more profusely. "Of me?"

"Yes."

"I'm a better person now. I'm more careful."

Maura reached a hand out. Her fingers danced across Jane's cheek. "Sweetheart, you were always the best person I've ever known."

A single tear ran alongside Jane's nose. "Don't you want me anymore?" she whispered, her glassy chocolate eyes clearer than Maura had ever seen them.

A shiver ran through Maura. Want? It was never a question of want. But years of watching Jane run into fires, jump from bridges, shoot through herself…it was too much. And Jane wasn't careful. Not when they were married. Not when Annie came along. Especially not after Maura had watched Jane spiral into a depression during recovery number twelve. Then came Jane's therapist, and deep-seated issues of identity, and sexuality, and confidence. Then came the marriage counsellor, and the hour-long, mediated arguments about sex, their daughter, their finances, Jane's accusations that Maura was still in love with Ian. Then came the separation. Not long after came divorce.

But then Jane had sought help, alone, and everything had gone back to the way it was before they had become more than friends. Simple. Calm. With an undercurrent of palpable sexual tension.

They'd come so far after the divorce. What if they went back to being lovers, and Jane threw herself at danger again?

"Maura?" Jane prompted. "Don't you want me?"

Maura looked up, and locked eyes with her ex-wife. "I want you," she exhaled heavily, a gasp falling from her lips as she tried not to choke on the emotion lumped in her throat.

"Breathe, baby," Jane whispered. "You're okay."

Maura closed her eyes as Jane ran her fingers down her freckled neck. Goosebumps prickled on her skin. She could feel Jane's breath, warm and wet on her cheek.

"I'm going to kiss you," Jane warned. "Tell me to stop."

Maura stayed silent.

Jane's lips were soft at their first press. Maura's parted for her.

Oh god. No other kind of danger had ever felt so safe.

Maura released a strangled whimper as Jane's tongue skimmed over her bottom lip and touched her own. Jane dared to deepen their kiss, and when she did, she was met with desperate enthusiasm.

Jane pressed Maura against the counter, hard, her fingers seeking the hem of Maura's jumper. She pulled it up and over Maura's head, tossing it to the corner of the kitchen.

Maura's palm flattened against the bare skin of Jane's back, nervous and timid.

"Touch me," Jane begged, her lips finding purchase on the swell of Maura's bra-clad breast. "I just want you to touch me again."

Maura worked the buttons on Jane's nightshirt with fast, trembling fingers. She felt wetness pool between her legs as Jane yanked at the drawstring of Maura's pajama pants, her index finger unintentionally brushing between Maura's legs.

Maura whimpered as Jane's hands slipped under the elastic, and grasped Maura's behind. Jane groaned, her hands full of her ex-wife's hot flesh. She released Maura and rid her of the thick pants as fast as she could, and then worked on her own.

Naked but for her underwear and socks, Maura clasped Jane's hand in hers, and drew her into the living room.

Together, they fell into the plush cushions of the couch.

Straddling the blonde, Jane reached behind herself and yanked off Maura's socks. Maura giggled softly, and the sound struck an unexpected chord of arousal in Jane.

When Jane turned back, Maura's fingers reached out to her strong jaw, stroking, angling Jane down to kiss her deeply. Jane's hand found home on the curve of Maura's waist, feeling her ex-wife's back arch up as Jane's bare leg slipped between Maura's. Their bellies pressed together, warm and wanting. So close. Maura pinched open Jane's bra, and flung into to the back of the couch. She instantly reached to feel Jane's breasts in her hands. Jane released a strangled sob. Had six years really passed? Jane felt as firm and strong as ever.

"What if Annie comes down?" Jane whispered against Maura's bare neck, unclipping Maura's bra. Maura played witness as Jane's eyes darkened in the firelight, her stare roaming over Maura's ample chest for the first time in so long.

"She's dead to the world," Maura groaned, her body burning as Jane sucked at her nipple. "Just be quiet."

Jane pulled away from Maura, dragging the doctor's panties down long, toned legs.

"I can," Jane teased. "But can you?"

Jane rested her completely naked body over Maura's. Dark, wet curls tickled the swollen, almost bare flesh between Maura's legs.

"Fuck me," Maura whined as Jane lowered her breasts to touch Maura's.

Shocked, Jane stilled, and held herself above Maura. "What did you just say?"

In lieu of repetition, Maura slid her hand between their bodies, and pressed two fingers alongside Jane's clit. Jane trembled above her. Maura drew her fingers around the nub slowly.

"I said," she whispered, her fingers slick with Jane, "What you think I said."

With an unsteady hand, Jane tried her best to focus on finding Maura. They had always been so good at this—fucking each other in harmony.

Jane pressed her fingers into her ex-wife, and kissed Maura to disguise a sharp cry that torn its way through her as Maura pressed harder, and rubbed faster.

"I'm gonna come," Jane warned Maura, her voice broken in the kindest way. The blonde did not relent, drawing her fingers up and down, up and down over Jane.

"Wait for me," Maura breathed sharply, revelling in Jane's skilful touch.

Holding off an orgasm that had been building for six years was the hardest thing Jane had ever done.

Maura's belly quaked beneath Jane. Jane pushed a finger inside of Maura, curling it. Instinctively, she pressed her pelvis harder against Maura's moving fingers, probably not helping, but having no control over her own body.

Maura stretched taught, and stilled, her fingers working against Jane messily. She craned her head to the side, and met Jane's lips, breathing against them heavily before parting to kiss her wife.

At the sight of Maura's orgasm, Jane felt all of the blood in her body flow to between her legs, pounding, aching, until the delicious tremor shot through her, making her buck against their joined fingers. She attempted to muffle her cries against Maura's lips, but the struggle was too much. Even in orgasm, she needed to devour Maura. As her insides quaked and clenched in delight, Jane bit at Maura's nipple, sucking widely until it was over and she was completely boneless.

Maura felt the detective collapse upon her. Sex had never been so satisfying. Maura's body trembled with the aftershocks of her release. Her mind was completely numb, but her body was alive.

She could feel Jane's gentle kisses being blanketed across her breasts.

This woman adored her. Loved her. Still wanted her, passionately, after all of this time.

"We should go upstairs," Maura choked, her throat dry, but her thirst quenched.

Jane was quiet for a moment.

"If I come upstairs with you, can I come home tomorrow? Can I come home…to Beacon Hill?"

Maura raked an unsteady hand through Jane's curls. "Can we take it slowly?"

Maura could feel Jane's smile crease against her breast. "Yeah. We'll take it slow."

"You can have the guest room for a while," Maura clarified.

Jane ran her fingers along Maura's side. "I've always had a soft spot for that bed."