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    crossing lines for maura

    For a moment Jane’s mind was lost in the question of what the hell she was doing. She had no idea if Paddy would know what was going on. She didn’t really have any proof that all these tenuous little things were connected. Yet Jane’s gut clenched when she thought of Maura. Anything that could even remotely be of risk to her was unacceptable.

    Jane had hated the publicity surrounding Hoyt, the precinct shooting and her shooting of Doyle.

    She hated being called a hero.

    Hated being asked to be the poster girl for the division.

    Hated the city officials using her name as some example of a selfless civic worker.

    Hated the police politics of people wanting to do her favours, wanting her backing.

    Jane just did her job and wanted to do it quietly. That’s all she ever did. Today however, she had used her ’pull,’ had pulled strings and played up her so called acts of heroism. Actions which ordinarily she would never do, would ordinarily sicken her, she committed with hardly a hesitation for thought.

    And why?

    For Maura.

    Always for Maura. Beautiful, talented, kind, generous, innocent : Maura.

    Her best friend. That’s what Jane had to keep reminding herself. Maura is justher friend. But Jane loves Maura, even if she will never tell her. Even if it can never be. They are from different worlds. Maura is a lady, Jane Tomboy. Maura a professional of high class. Jane a blue collar cop. Maura well educated and refined. Jane gruff and crass. Maura seemingly on the straight end of the sexuality scale she Google mouths about. Jane, Hell Jane didn’t know what she was. Maura innocent and open. Jane damaged goods and closed to the world. None of it mattered though, even if it will never be, Jane would do anything for her.

    Including talking to Doyle in a semi civilised manner.

    Jane takes her seat at the horrible orange plastic chair and waits for Doyle. Through the Perspex she sees the door open and his shackled, jumpsuit form is guided to his own chair. He resists a little more when he sees Jane but is eventually plonked down on the creaking plastic.

    Jane lifts the phone to talk to Doyle on the other side. At first he hesitates with that cold hard stare, refusing to lift the phone, to hear what Jane wants.

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