Author's note: first chapter, daily updates and reviews more than appreciated (I apologize for the long wait)

"A classic is classic not because it conforms to certain structural rules, or fits certain definitions (of which its author had quite probably never heard). It is classic because of a certain eternal and irrepressible freshness." - Edith Wharton

Chapter One

Fifteen months. It had taken Maura fifteen months to succumb to what she now saw as a new life routine; a whole series of elements that – once linked together – seemed to create a powerful whirl of addictions.

She had grown accustomed to the morning smiles, to the delicacy of a hand brushing her lower back and to the serene breath that slid on her neck during the night when they were falling both asleep and that the world had turned quiet. Their kisses belonged to nobody but themselves like the subtle beat of their hearts whenever she plunged her hazel eyes in Jane's dark ones.

She was in love.

The surge of feelings which now inhabited her was the result of a natural process that she had embraced with confidence and hope. She wanted to believe in them, in whatever story she and Jane were presently writing. Her return to Boston had been incredibly easy; logical even. The singular context imposed by her stay in Oregon hadn't weighed the slightest bit on the shy beginning of their relationship and it was now with a certain pleasure that she abandoned herself to the indolence of her life with Jane.

"Good morning."

Something had happened since they had made it to the cabin the evening before. Time seemed to have got suspended, as if the world had stopped on turning. The quietness of the Berkshire mountains had won over the frenzy of Boston and – wrapped in the comfort of this brand new silence – Maura suddenly realized how much needed this getaway was.

Her smile melted against Jane's lips as she leaned over for a morning kiss. She hadn't just fallen in love with someone but with all the gestures that came within the relationship as well, the ones she now considered as vital habits. Cuddling in bed with her partner belonged to the non-exhaustive list.

What time was it? How long had they slept for, exactly? Maura closed her eyes in an attempt to sweep away the endless series of pointless questions raised by her brain. Nothing really mattered right now but Jane's presence by her side and the way her long fingers travelled up and down her bare thigh.

"Are you hungry? I'm starving."

The bottle of wine that laid on the floor by the fireplace - in the living-room - was the only vestige of an aborted dinner that had quickly been replaced by a more carnal activity the evening before.

The detail caused Maura to smile. Wasn't it the exact reason of their presence here anyway? She wasn't genuine, even less shocked. Life had been such since she had come back from a three-month expedition in Alaska that she and Jane hadn't had much time for their couple.

Going away for Thanksgiving was an excellent idea; a well needed last-minute plan.

"I'm pretty sure I could do without breakfast..." Jane rolled on her side in a feline way. A certain boldness curled up her lips in a mischievous smile. She pouted, as if pondering the words she was about to say. "Even without coffee."

Maura raised a skeptical eyebrow and burst out laughing. Her voice echoed in the silence of the cabin. She cast a glance at the pine trees by the window in Jane's back: it was snowing. A thick layer of a pure whiteness had embraced the woods with grace and delicacy. Spending the day in bed was tempting, extremely tempting.

Even more now that Jane had started tracing a path of kisses down her neck.

"Five minutes. Give me five minutes." Maura sat up in bed and stretched out her arms. She repressed a yawn then winked at her partner. "Five minutes and I'm all yours."

The rustle of the sheet died in an icy gust of wind. Jane huddled against herself and watched her partner walk towards the door. She cleared her voice just as Maura was about to exit the bedroom.

"You're naked."

The remark left Maura perplexed. She was well aware of her current absence of clothes but nudity had never been an issue. Besides, the context was such that she didn't see the point in getting dressed: they were in the middle of the woods, in the mountains. Nobody had a chance to walk in on her any time soon. Yet Jane didn't seem to share her point of view.

"C'mon. It's cold and I don't want you to get sick. I didn't come here to play the nurse."

Alright. Jane had a point this time. Maura wrinkled her nose before walking towards a pile of clothes abandoned on top of an armchair. She grabbed a pair of hipsters and a mid-thigh woolen sweater. She put them on then turned around to look at her partner.

"Satisfied?"

Her question got welcomed by an enthusiastic nod. She walked out of the bedroom and took a deep breath on her way downstairs. The cabin smelled of wood, she loved it. The air was chilly – they would have to turn the heater on at some point – but a peculiar sentiment of comfort wrapped her up nonetheless.

She had never believed in her capacity to escape her daily responsibilities by physically going away from Boston yet she had to admit on that snowy morning of November that the Berkshire mountains were having a very positive impact on her stressful life.

She felt fine, here; fine and relaxed.

And the truth was that it hadn't happened in a long while.

Lost in her thoughts, she crossed the living-room and went straight towards the kitchen area. The cabin was a big one – way too big for the two of them actually – but Maura didn't feel like complaining. The getaway was a surprise. Jane had organized everything with the help of their friends and relatives. Even the packing. Maura had come back home on Friday afternoon only to find two suitcases by the door and the destination had remained a mystery until Jane had turned off the engine in the driveway of the cabin a couple of hours later.

Maura grabbed a glass and poured some water in it before taking a sip.

They should do that more often. Being spontaneous was a completely foreign notion to her but these improvised weekends out of Boston responded to an untold need she couldn't keep on ignoring. They were important if not just paramount. She had to force herself a little bit if she didn't want to damage her and Jane's relationship because of her absence of communication skills.

The past fifteen months were a miracle in themselves. It was the very first time Maura felt fine with someone; so fine actually that she was dying to make plans; endless plans.

"I had forgotten you used to walk around the house pantless, Isles."

The sudden intrusion caused Maura to jump of surprise. She immediately turned around then squinted her eyes at the person who had just spoken. She would have recognized his voice anywhere, among a thousand ones. Yet the surprise to see him here completely took her aback.

"What..."

William Montgomery burst out laughing. His voice rose loudly and went straight to Maura's heart to point out an evidence she hadn't stopped thinking about: she had terribly missed him.

Her internship in Oregon hadn't put an end to the singular connection she had developed with her colleagues and roommates. On the contrary. They all had kept in touch during these past fifteen months but hadn't had a chance to meet again. Or at least not until now.

William stood up and rushed to the kitchen to take Maura in his arms just as Jane was walking downstairs. Maura cast a glance at her partner: the smirk that lit up Jane's features immediately answered the dozen of questions that had risen within her mind. Everything was planned. William's presence in the Berkshire mountains was planned.

But then if the young medical examiner from San Diego was there, did it mean that...

The main door got opened and swept away Maura's last doubts. She stared astounded at the three women she hadn't seen since Oregon walk in: Emma Carrington, Vera Watson and Emily James. They were all carrying travel bags and suitcases.

Emma dropped her bag on the floor before walking to the kitchen area with her typical casualness. She poured herself a glass of water then motioned the door she had left wide opened.

"Barnes is convinced he saw a bear. There I was thinking he was only obsessed with Oregon whales..." The woman smiled at Maura, as if she had finally noticed her presence in the room, then scoffed. "Gosh, Isles... Do the pants come as an option in Massachusetts?"

Matthew Barnes. Maura blinked then turned her head around as she heard someone pass the door. Matthew Barnes – her colleague from Michigan – was standing in the doorway: he was all smiles.

Then Emma's remark hit Maura. She was in a room with six people. Pantless. Her hands immediately went for her woolen sweater. She pulled on it a bit desperately, still taken aback by the unexpected turn of events.