Christmas Homecoming by reagancrew

Just a little Christmas story. Jane Rizzoli returns home to Boston to spend the holidays
with her family and someone she's tried for ten years to forget makes an appearance.
There's gonna be some Rizzles, y'all. Happy holidays! Disclaimer: I do not own Rizzoli
and Isles.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Family/Romance - J. Rizzoli, M. Isles - Chapters: 7 - Words:
30,676 - Reviews: 185 - Favs: 230 - Follows: 178 - Updated: Dec 25, 2012 - Published: Dec
20, 2012 - Status: Complete - id: 8812144

Hey, y'all. So this just popped into my head, and I figured I might as well throw it up here for y'all to critique.
It's probably going to end up being a short little multi-chapter fic. Not too long. And, of course, completely
ridiculous, bringing us to some Christmas Rizzles. Let me know what y'all think and if you want me to finish it
out.

For those of you reading "Headaches," an update is on its way. (If you aren't reading "Headaches," allow me to
point you in its general direction. Hint hint.)

Thanks for all the support folks. I hope you're having a great holiday season. Love.

"Auntie Jay, Auntie Jay!"

The tall woman drops her bags and kneels down just in time to sweep the curly haired
banshee running at her full force into a huge hug. "Hey there, munchkin," she smiles,
grinning in delight as she swoops the little form into the air and then back down to
earth, delighted squeals greeting her the entire way. "Miss me?"

Once both pink booted little feet are planted firmly back on solid ground, the brunette
is able to pull back and get a good look at the figure holding onto her. "Well, I'll be,"
she declares in a mock southern drawl. "This can't be the same niece I saw last time.
Annie was just a little squirt. You musta grown two feet since I've been here last!"

The little girl mock pouts. "8 whole inches," she says.

"Oh, it's her alright. Growing like a weed."

At the voice, the woman stands to her full height, coming face to face with a man who
could almost pass as her twin. "Hey, brother," she says fondly and pulls him into a tight
hug. "Missed you," she can't help whispering in his ear before he lets her go.

"We missed you, too," he responds. And it's then that she notices the quiet boy standing
behind his father.

"Well, hey there, TJ. Long time no see!"

When he doesn't respond, his father swats at his shoulder. "Say hello to your aunt," he
orders.

"Hey Aunt Jay," the boy grumbles, his long hair covering his eyes.

"Teenagers," Tommy grumbles and Jane rolls her eyes in understanding.

"Aunt Jay," the little girl is back to pulling on her aunt's arm to get her attention. "Wait
until you see what nona and I made for you!"
"These your bags?" Tommy indicates the forgotten articles, and Jane gives him a nod,
letting her enthusiastic niece lead the way out of the bustling airport and towards the
car, chatting a mile a minute the entire way.

When they step outside, she takes a minute to appreciate the way the cold
automatically begins biting at her clothes. Virginia is chilly, but it hasn't snowed there
yet, and this is a welcome change. She takes a deep breath, the sound of taxi's honking
and people shouting to one another, the smell of gasoline in the winter air, invading her
senses. There are wreaths hung up every few feet along the outside of the airport
terminal, and the tinkling of a Salvation Army Collection Box greets her. It's Christmas
time, and she is home.

The entire ride back to Nona's house, no one can get a word in edgewise around
Annie's rambling. She tells her aunt all about what she asked for from Santa, the food
she and Nona have been busy cooking all day, her plan for catching the big man in the
act of delivering her presents this year. Tommy shoots his older sister an apologetic
grin, but she waves it away, focusing on her niece. Her excitement almost matching that
of the six year old's. She used to love Christmas just as much when she was a kid.

They pull up to a small, but cozy looking house and Jane peers out of the window. "It's
nice," she comments, and her brother agrees.

"It's kind of a lot of space for her, I think. But the kids are there every day after school
until Lydia and I get off work. And she likes having her own place. It was time." The
mention of what exactly it was time for goes unspoken. But Jane can feel her there
behind the words nevertheless, and she gives a little sigh. She was hoping to avoid
mention of that particular subject during her visit.

"Ma's so excited to see you," Tommy explains, grabbing her bag from the trunk and
waving her helping hands away. "It's all she and Annie have been able to talk about."

Jane nods, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders before heading up the iced
walkway towards the front door. It's been more than a year since she's seen her mother,
three since she was actually in Boston. Angela Rizzoli had come down for a visit, and by
the time the week was up, Jane had been ready to tear her own hair out. But it feels
good to be coming home. To be spending the holidays with her family, crazy as they
might be. It feels good.

When they enter through the front door, Jane can't help but be overcome by old
memories. This isn't the house she and her brothers grew up in, but it still smells the
same. Like vanilla and cinnamon. It has the same 'lived-in' feel, like there's a whole heap
of stories written behind it's softened old frame. Tommy drops her bag off at the base
of the stairs and gestures along the hallway. The two follow the trail of snow stuff left
behind by the little girl as she ran through on her way to her grandmother. They hear
her high pitched giggling before they see her.

Rounding the corner, Jane almost can't stand how right it all looks. The living room off
to the side, lights from the tree glowing through the doorway, and her mother standing
in a messy kitchen, looking a bit frazzled, but positively glowing with the holiday
season. She sees the shine of unshed tears as Angela approaches, arms outstretched,
and Jane doesn't even think about ducking as those strong arms pull her into a hug.

"Hi, baby," her mother's voice is soft and warm.

"Hiya, ma," Jane's husky voice responds happily.

"I missed you so much!"

After several moments have gone by, the taller woman has had enough, "Ma, you're
squishing me," she begs.

Angela gives one last squeeze and then pulls away, looking her daughter up and down
with a critical eye. "You're too skinny!" she finally declares, and Jane's eyes roll
automatically, a habit carried over from her teenage years.

"I'm fine, ma," she responds good-naturedly.

Her mother swats her arm gently with the towel she's holding. "You will be after you let
me fatten you up over the next few days. No arguing," she orders, a finger pointed in
her daughter's direction.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Jane holds up her hands in mock surrender.

Her mother takes a step forward and cups Jane's cheek in her hand. The brunette can't
help but lean in to the motherly touch. It's been too long since her ma has had the
opportunity to dote on her. "Merry Christmas, Janie. I'm so happy to have you home."

"Me too, Ma," Jane answers softly.

And then the oven's timer goes off and Annie is back at her aunt's side, begging to give
her the grand tour, and Angela is fussing over TJ, while her grandson simply shrugs her
off, a habit picked up from watching his father and uncle do the same thing with their
mother's overbearingness. Tommy finally hauls his son outside on the pretense of
shoveling the driveway and Jane lets herself be dragged off by the little munchkin to
see the house.

The tour takes Jane upstairs, where she drops her bag at the foot of one of the twin
beds in the guest room, which is where, Annie declares proudly, she sleeps when she
spends the night at Grandma's house. They look at all the toys Annie has accumulated
there, and then head back downstairs. Jane runs her fingers down the pictures lining the
stairwell as they descend. There are baby pictures of Jane, Frankie, and Tommy, and
then family photos from when the kids were growing up, somewhat yellowed now. The
wall seems to tell the story of their entire childhoods.

Annie and TJ are on there, too, their little faces glowing in the frames, smiling cheekily
back at the camera. Jane is shocked by how much they resemble her youngest brother
and she feels her heart swell with pride at how beautiful his children are. At what a
wonderful father he is turning out to be.

Her gaze lands on one photograph from more than ten years ago now, back when Jane
was still in Boston. The entire family is gathered around the Christmas tree, the star
bent over under the ceiling because Tommy and Frankie had insisted on getting the
biggest one they could find. For TJ, they'd said, although the toddler hadn't really
understood. Her Ma is there, Frankie, Tommy and Lydia and TJ in their own little family
unit, and Frost and Korsak as well or course. The two detectives as much a part of the
Rizzoli clan by that point as Jane or her siblings. And Jane, the only one not looking at
the camera. Instead, she's looking at the person standing next to her, a silly smile on
her face, her arm wrapped around the other woman's small waist. That was before,
before everything. Before Jane got the call from the FBI, before she took the job down
in Virginia and it all went to Hell.
No. She isn't going to dwell on it. That's the past. She's moved on. Jesus, it's been a
decade. She doesn't care anymore. She doesn't. She swore to herself that she wouldn't
think about it while she was in town. She promised herself. It's done.

The sound of Annie calling her name from the living room draws Agent Rizzoli back to
herself, shaking her out of her reverie. She lets her finger drop from where it was
resting on the blonde woman's form behind the glass and heads downstairs, smile fixed
firmly in place. Determined not to let old memories ruin this holiday.

Several hours later, darkness has descended on Boston. The lights strung up on houses
all along the block have slowly winked on, bathing the street in multi-colored Christmas
warmth. Jane stamps her boots off on the front porch, trailing behind her niece and
nephew. All of their cheeks are red and glowing from the cold and her hands are frozen
inside their mitteny cover. She trades a fist bump with her youngest brother. The two
have just successfully trounced the younger Rizzoli's in the annual Christmas Eve
snowball fight. Sure, maybe it wasn't precisely fair, but sure as hell was a good time.

"Hang up your coats!" Angela's shrill voice resounds throughout the house as her
children and grandchildren come clumping inside, banging snow off onto the rug.

Jane can't help her deep belly laugh when she sees both of her brother's children roll
their eyes in unison. Some things would never change.

Once free of their snow gear, the four tramp into the kitchen, settling themselves at the
kitchen table while Lydia plops cups of hot cocoa down in front of them.

"Thanks, babe," Tommy smiles at her wife in appreciation.

"Thanks, mom," his children echo.

"Thank you, Lydia," Jane agrees, sighing in appreciation when her hands come into
contact with the warm cup. Her hands still tend to cramp up in the cold, a legacy left to
her by a crazy psychostalker homicidal lunatic many years ago. She pushes the memory
out of her head, and gives herself a chocolatey mustache, which gets a giggle out of her
niece.

"Frankie and the others should be here any minute," Angela announces, swatting away
her grandsons hand when he tries to steal a deviled egg. "They're going to be so happy
to see you, Janie!" Jane returns her mother's ear to ear grin.

"Do you need any help, Ma?"

"I think Lydia and I have got it," the matriarch surveys the pots and pans cooking in
front of her. "Don't we dear?" Lydia nods in return.

Jane is happy to see Lydia getting involved, helping her mother out in the kitchen. At
first, with the whole TJ situation, it was a toss up as to how it would all play out. But
Tommy and Lydia managed to reconnect over the whole thing and they got married
when TJ was two. Jane didn't necessarily like her sister in law, but Lydia did her best.
And she was a good mom. Tommy had landed a steady job working for a painting
company, and he was the boss now. She couldn't help but be proud of how her little
brother had managed to turn his entire life around for his family. He'd done good, and
continued to do so.
He quirked a dark eyebrow at her over his hot chocolate and she realized that she'd
missed a question from her mother.

"What, ma? Sorry."

"I asked," her mother heaved a sigh, "why you didn't bring anybody with you."

Jane groaned. "Ma, c'mon. I've only been back for five hours. Give it a rest."

"You aren't getting any younger, Jane. I, for one, would appreciate some more
grandchildren. And Frankie doesn't look like he's settling down anytime soon."

"Well, Frost and Sarah are getting married in the spring, Ma. Ask them for grandkids."

"She already has," Tommy said out of the corner of his mouth, ducking out of his
mother's reach when she tried to hit with over the head with a wooden spoon.

"You'd just have such cute little kids, Janie. Is it a crime for a woman to want to see her
children happily married."

"Jesus, Ma," Jane ran a hand exasperatedly through her thick curls.

"And it's not like there's been anyone since M-"

"Ma." She cuts her mother off there, her tone suddenly turning icy and cold. "No."

Her mother half looks as though she might argue, but the doorbell rings and Jane
stands in relief.

"I'll get it!" Annie scrambles out of her chair, racing her aunt down the hall and pulling
open the front door in excitement. "Uncle Frankie!" she launches her small body into his
waiting arms.

"There's my favorite niece!"

"I'm your only niece, Unk," she sasses back.

"Oh, that's right!"

Jane comes up behind the two of them, smile on her face.

"And is that my favorite sister?" He plays.

"I'm your only sister," she jokes in response. He sets the little munchkin down and pulls
her in for a hug of her own. She squeezes back tightly.

"You look good, brother."

"Well, you look like shit," he responds, wincing slightly when she punches him on the
shoulder. "Ow. Jesus."

"Just because I'm old doesn't mean I can't still beat your ass," she growls.

But he shakes his head happily, "It's good to see you, Janie. Merry Christmas."
"Oooooh, presents!" the two are brought out of their quiet moment by the squealing of
a happy six year old.

"Those are for after supper," her uncle orders, grabbing her around the middle and
hoisting her into the air. "And not for little girls that peak!"

Jane grabs the bag of wrapped gifts and follows her brother back inside.

"Frankie!" her mother calls when her middle child enters the kitchen. "Where's Frost?"

"He went home to pick Sarah up," Frankie exclaimed. "We just finished a case, and he
wanted to change first. Korsak should be right behind me though."

Angela looks pleased at the news. "Good. Because dinner is almost ready." She shot her
son a look, "And...?"

Frankie chanced a glance at Jane, but she was putting the presents under the tree.
"After dinner."

Angela nodded and then turned back to the stove as Jane reentered the kitchen.

The Agent headed for the fridge, "Beer, brother?"

"Please."

The two cracked them open simultaneously and gave exaggerated sighs as the cold
beverage slid down their throats.

"So, how's homicide going?" Jane questioned, following Frankie into the living room and
flopping her lanky form down on the couch next to Tommy, who is engaged in a quiet
chess match with TJ.

Frankie shrugged. "It's good. I think Korsak is looking at retirement this year, which
means Frost'll get promoted and I'll be getting a new partner."

Jane clapped him on the back. "It's about time that old fart handed in his badge. And
you'll be great with a newbie, Frankie."

Her brother nodded. "I'm worried Korsak's gonna do something crazy once he's got too
much free time on his hands. He's been talking about buying a farm and opening a
shelter or some shit like that."

Jane laughed in response. "Him and his strays. He never changes."

Frankie grimaced. "He gave me a cat last month that he picked up in some gutter. I
am not a cat person. But I don't know how to get rid of the damn thing."

"Well, that's how it was with Jo," Jane said fondly. "Just wait. It'll grow on you."

"So, how's the Bureau?" he asked.

"Same old, same old, I suppose," Jane answered. "It's exciting, ya know. But it's good to
be back."

"It's been awhile."

"It has," she agreed, and the two clinked bottles gently. "It's good to be back though,"
she all but whispered, looking at the glowing tree, bedecked with a mess of ornaments,
mostly handmade by herself, her brothers, and now Tommy's kids.

They sat down to eat an hour later, after welcoming Korsak, loaded down with gifts.
"You look more and more like Santa himself, old man," Jane had joked on greeting her
long ago partner, and he'd chuckled. Frost and his fiancé, Sarah showed up right before
the food was ready. Jane given Sarah a quick hug, having met her several times when
Frost brought her down to Virginia for visits. She was sweet. Kind. Funny. Perfect for
Frost really. Together, Jane had to admit they made a cute couple. She and Frost fist
bumped before wrapping one another in a giant hug. "Missed you, partner," she
whispered and he'd nodded back. And that was that.

They were eating in the living room because there wasn't enough room in the kitchen.
Kids were on the floor, Korsak in the armchair, Angela, when her children finally got her
to sit, on the couch with Sarah and Lydia, Tommy next to the munchkins, Frost leaning
back against Sarah's legs, and Jane and Frankie next to the tree. The food was delicious
and there was plenty to go around. Second helpings were had and thirds. And no one
remembered to save room for dessert. But then again, there always seemed to be room
for Angela's homemade pumpkin and apple pies. Laughter was loud and frequent over
the meal, while the family dredged up old stories and ragged good naturedly on one
another constantly. The heat of many happy bodies made the room warm and cozy,
while snow fell lazily outside the large picture window which looked out on the back
yard.

Jane settled back against the wall with a contented sigh, patting her full stomach in
appreciation. She let her gaze wander over her family, laughing to herself at her
mother's exaggerated antics, her face a bit redder than usual, probably due to the
eggnog clutched in her hand. Frankie had been spiking it since they were teenagers.
The other adults all had wine or beer (except for Tommy, who, Jane was proud to see,
was sporting a glass of the kids' sparkling grape juice which Korsak had brought over).
Korsak, Frost, Tommy, and TJ were engaged in a debate which seemed to be centered
on the Red Sox's winning season the year before. Frankie was tugging on one of Annie's
braids jokingly and tickling her. Jane caught snatches of her mother's conversation with
Lydia and Sarah. They were discussing wedding plans. Her mother looked absolutely
ecstatic at the thought of another wedding in the family. Jane hoped Sarah knew what
she was getting herself into, letting Angela Rizzoli get involved. They may not have
been blood related, but Angela was just as much a mother to Frost as his own mother
was.

It was perfect. A perfect Christmas Eve. She thought back to the past few Christmases
she'd spent in Virginia. She'd worked late each year, and then gone home to her empty
apartment, thrown back a few beers, and plopped down on her couch in her pajamas to
watch It's a Wonderful Life by herself. She'd cried every time when good ole George
Bailey finally returned home to his family. The sound of Auld Lang Syne sending her
into a fit of tears. And then she'd press rewind and watch it again. Again and again until
she fell asleep. It was pathetic.

But not this year. No. This year she'd taken the time off her boss offered and, although
leery about it, headed up North, home to her family. Looking around at the familiar
faces, warm and glowing in the light of the tree, Jane couldn't stand to think of those
past years. She was here now, surrounded by her family. By the people she loved. And
she was happy, so damn happy she felt that she would burst at any moment. Not
normally one for such sappy sentiment, Jane scoffed at herself, but didn't try to contain
the grin that she knew was residing her face.
"Janie? You alright?"

At Frankie's quiet question, she realized that a tear had made it's way down her cheek.
Embarrassed, she wiped it away quickly, pleased that no one else seemed to have
noticed. "Happy tears, Brother," she explained, giving his arm a squeeze. Thankfully, he
understood, because he gave her a knowing look in return and turned back to their
niece.

After they'd all eaten as much food as they could possibly hold without exploding, pie
and all, and after drinks had been topped off, Jane found herself in the kitchen with her
mother, drying the plates as Angela handed them to her, freshly sponged.

"That was good, Ma. Thanks," Tommy said, handing his mother his plate and kissing her
cheek.

"You're welcome, Tommy," she positively glowed at the compliment. "Jane and I'll just
finish these up and then we can do presents, alright?"

"Great, I'll tell the kids."

Jane watched her brother leave the room, and then glanced over at her mother. "He's
doing good," she observed.

Angela agreed. "He's a good father to those kids," she couldn't hide the pride in her
voice.

"You raised him right, Ma."

Angela gave her daughter a searching look. "You're all good kids, Janie. Tommy's got
his own little family and his painting job. Vince said that Frankie has got some of the
best instincts around over at the precinct. I worry about him everyday of course. You,
too," she hip checked her daughter gently. "Don't think I don't just because you're all
grown up now. But he's good at his job."

Jane nodded.

"And I'm proud of you, too, Janie."

Jane didn't stop rubbing the plate she was drying, but her mother's words caused a lump
to form in her throat. "Thanks, ma."

Angela's strong hands covered her own rough ones. "I mean it, Janie. I might worry
about you, and complain when you don't call me often enough. But I'm proud of what
you're doing."

Jane couldn't trust herself to speak.

"I just want you to be happy, baby."

"I am happy, Ma." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either. Her job was
rewarding. She did good work, felt like she was making a difference, helping people.
But she was constantly lonely. She hadn't found any close friends like she'd had at
Boston PD. No Frosts, no Korsaks. Certainly no Mau-. Anyway. And so she threw herself
into her work headfirst, trying to drown out that feeling of loneliness that seemed to be
her constant companion. Usually it worked, too. But, the holidays were always hard.

She was happy now though. Today. Being home. Surrounded by her friends and family.
Eating her mother's home cooking. She could feel the tension leaving her body in
waves. Could feel herself relaxing into the routine of it all. And so, it wasn't a lie. In
that moment, all afternoon really, she had been happy. Almost blissfully happy. Almost.

"I'm happy, Ma," she said again, and Angela smiled at her.

"Good."

Just then the doorbell rang. "We'll get it!" Frankie and Annie shouted together, taking
off for the front door.

"I thought everyone was here?" Jane mentally clicked through the list of anyone who
might be invited to Rizzoli family Christmas.

Her mother wasn't meeting her gaze.

"Who else is coming?"

"Janie," there was something in her mother's tone. "Please don't be upset."

"Ma?"

"Please," her mother half-begged, half-ordered. "She had nowhere else to go..."

But she could no longer hear her mother as the new guest stepped into the kitchen,
smoothing her tight black dress down anxiously, and meeting Jane's gaze with a timid
smile. "Hello, Jane."

Jane opened her mouth but no sound came out. She cleared her throat and tried again.
"Maur-Maura. I-What? I-"

Jane tore her eyes away from beautifu-no, ravish-no, figure before her and stared at her
mother, sparks practically flying from her dark brown eyes. "What is she doing here?"

"What is she doing here?" Jane repeated, enunciating each word with an icy clearness.
Her hands had curled themselves into fists automatically and she was balanced on her
toes, ready to spring into motion at any moment. She could feel her heartbeat thumping
in her ears, her pulse counting the beats of the silent seconds that were passing as they
all stood frozen in the kitchen. Maura was staring at the floor now, a blush rising up her
neck the longer no one moved and Jane was glaring daggers at her mother, but Angela
Rizzoli was staring at her just as angrily in return. Frankie stood in the doorway, unsure
how to ease the growing tension.

Finally, a shout echoed from the living room as TJ check mated his father in their chess
game, and the spell was broken. Angela moved quickly across the old linoleum, ignoring
her daughter's eyes, and instead focusing on the new guest.

"Maura, dear. I was afraid you weren't going to make it! You're just in time for
presents!" Angela swept the silent woman into a huge hug, not letting go until the
doctor relaxed into the embrace.

"Don't you look absolutely lovely. Doesn't she, Frankie?"

"Uh, yeah. Yes. You look nice, Maura."

She smiled at him shyly, "Thank you, Frankie. I'm sorry I'm so late, Angela. There was a
case," but she trailed off as the older woman waved off the excuse happily.

Jane rolled her eyes. "What the hell is going on here?" She refused to be ignored.

"Well," her mother puttered, leading Maura by the arm into the living room. "I thought
Maura might like to spend Christmas with us!"

Jane wanted to hit something. She wanted to stamp her foot on the floor like a pouty
child and demand that her mother give her a full answer, that this was her family
Christmas. Her first one in years. That she didn't want the doctor there. She wasn't part
of the family. What right did she have to come in and ruin Jane's Christmas? No right.
No right at all.

So when she heard Maura's soft voice whisper to her mother that perhaps it would be
better if she left. She didn't want to cause any tension. Jane almost jumped in with an
extremely rude Yes! Leave. But Angela beat her to it, and announced, loud enough for
everyone to hear, that, Of course! Maura was welcome. She was just as much family as
the next person. She would stay. No arguments. This last statement was directed at her
eldest daughter who was still standing in the kitchen, unable to fathom the turn of
events.

She grabbed Frankie's arm as he tried to scoot past her. "Frankie," she said warningly,
but he shook her off.

"Not now, Janie. Okay? Not now."

Jane's lips were gasping for air like a fish out of water. She didn't know what to do, how
to act. Was she just supposed to pretend that the woman who had single handedly
turned Jane's world upside down, who had, for all intents and purposes, broken her
heart, the woman Jane had tried to forget for an entire decade, was not sitting on her
mother's raggedy old couch with a laughing six year old dancing in front of her? Was
that was she supposed to do?

"Presents!" the matriarch exclaimed, and Korsak donned a ridiculous Santa hat and
started rummaging under the tree for the first gift. "Jane," she said sharply, pointing her
daughter to a place on the floor, under the window, far from the couch. "Sit," she
ordered.

Apparently pretending was exactly what she was supposed to do. So she sat. She
couldn't argue in front of everyone, not when Maura was so studiously avoiding her
gaze and all the other adults were giving her such sympathetic looks. She sat and tried
to focus on the gifts that were being passed around instead.

Her niece was positively overflowing with excitement and, even TJ had cracked a smile,
and Jane tried to let their energy pull her in. Laughing along when Tommy pulled on the
new socks his mother had bought him over his old, ratty ones. Helping Annie unwrap an
especially large box from Korsak that turned out to be a miniature stable set, complete
with little animals. She waved away Frankie's wolf whistle at the new kit belt she'd
purchased for Frost, and gamely donned the knitted scarf...thing Lydia had made for
her.

But, the entire time, she couldn't stop glancing over at the medical examiner who was
sitting quietly and primly on the sofa. When she wasn't looking over surreptitiously
under her brows, she could feel Maura's hazel eyes on her, but they managed to avoid
making eye contact. The doctor looked good, Jane had to admit. Thinner than the last
time she'd seen her, softer almost. Some of her angles had been worn away, her curves
were more pronounced than a decade ago. Her face was a bit more lined, and there
were dark circles under her eyes that not even her makeup could completely conceal.
She looked tired, older, more careworn, and there was something in her eyes that hadn't
been there before.

Jane thought that at first it was just tiredness, but then she realized that it was
understanding, knowledge. Maura had always been intelligent; she was the smartest
person the brunette had ever met. But she had also been strangely innocent, constantly
positive, an optimist, even surrounded by her science and death all the time. It wasn't
that she looked cynical now, no, that was Jane's roll to play. But there was a hint of
something in her hazel orbs, a touch of sadness that hadn't been present those many
years ago. She'd lost that wisp of naivety that Jane had loved so much, that fairy like
grace she'd carried with her always back then. She'd grown up, just as Jane had. They'd
both gotten older, seen things that had pulled on them, worn them down.

Jane was pulled out of another reverie when Annie plopped herself down into her aunt's
lap, her little limbs askew. "Look what Amie got for me, Auntie Jay," she said excitedly.

"Amie?" Jane asked stupidly.

"Amie," Annie pointed at the perfect form on the couch, now leaning towards Sarah ever
so slightly, engaged in a quiet conversation.

Frankie, listening, jumped in at Jane's confused look, "Annie couldn't say 'Aunt Maura'
when she was little. So it became Amie."

"Amie and Annie!" the little girl giggled happily, and Jane had to close her eyes against
the onslaught of emotion the nickname brought to her mind. Of course her niece would
have a relationship with the doctor. It looked as though Maura had been more active in
her life than Jane had been. She was here with them all, in Boston, while Jane had been
holed up in Virginia, hiding behind her work. Of course her mother wouldn't have let
Maura slip out of the family after Jane left not. Of course not.

"See, Auntie Jay! Look!" Her niece's little pudgy hands, were pointing at the book held
in her lap. "A whole book on the oceans! Look at the dolphins!"

Jane forced herself to choke back the lump in her throat and focus on the little girl in
her arms. "Oh, mhmmm." She let the six year old ramble on for the next few minutes,
helping to turn the pages carefully, tracing the outline of the sea creatures pictured.

But, she could feel Maura looking at them, studying them in that inquisitive way of hers.
She forced herself not to look up, not to meet that gaze, not to engage in some sort of
strange staring contest. She focused all her energy on her niece. When she felt the eyes
leave her, she let out a breath and relaxed ever so slightly.

"This one's for you, Janie," Korsak said gruffly, tossing her a little package.

The detective unwrapped the package curiously. She'd already opened the ones from
Frost, Frankie, Tommy and family, and her mother. She opened the box and lifted out a
silvery white snowflake, glittering joyfully in the lights bouncing off the tree, hanging
delicately from a golden thread. Jane caught the gasp trying to make its way out of her
throat and looked up automatically, searching out the eyes of the one person the
present could be from. Maura was staring at her cautiously.
The ME didn't say anything. "I-" Jane tried. But her brain wouldn't work, wouldn't form
words, so instead, she gave a curt nod, and replaced the lid on the little boxing, tucking
it away with her other presents.

The two went back to studiously ignoring one another after that. Jane had seen the
tears well up in Maura's eyes at the nod, and her stomach muscles had clenched in
agony at the sight, but she turned away nonetheless.

Jane escaped as soon as she could, making a beeline for the front porch as soon as
Annie had been swooped up into Tommy's capable arms and carried upstairs to lay
down in Grandma's bed until it was time for them to go home. As soon as Sarah and
Lydia started picking up the wrapping paper spread all over the room and Frost had
gotten TJ to set up his brand new chess set, she bolted out of the living room. She
needed space, needed air, a place to breathe away from the watchful gaze of her
mother, her friends, Maura. She needed a minute to herself.

The night was bitingly cold. The snow was coming down faster now, quick, sharp flakes,
coating everything it touched in a white blanket, muffling the noise of cars passing on
the busy street at the end of the neighborhood. Jane was thankful for the cold. She'd
left her jacket inside, and was wearing just her light sweater and jeans, and the scarf
from her sister-in-law, which she tugged tighter around her neck. She welcomed the
uncomfortable numbness that spread quickly through her fingers, the pain that
immediately began throbbing in her palms where her scars were located. The pain
grounded her. It was better to be feeling physical discomfort than all the emotional shit
she'd been under in that house. Physical pain she could deal with.

The door opened behind her, but she didn't turn for several moments. Whoever it was
stood silently on the porch, waiting for her, and finally, she let out a growl and spun
around. Frankie was standing there looking up at the sky, at the stars faintly visible
through the thin cloud cover. Jane glared at him, but he didn't bother looking at her. He
knew his sister too well. She was just waiting for an excuse to pounce, to tell him off.

They stood there, frozen, locked in a silent stalemate, and finally, Jane's shoulders
relaxed in defeat, Frankie's cue to come down off the porch and approach. He wound
up next to her, patted her once on the arm and then let his hand fall back to his side.
Jane didn't do well with physical affection, especially not when she was feeling betrayed
and trapped. They gazed up at the stars together, until Jane's teeth started chattering
and Frankie shrugged out of his coat and placed it gently over her shoulders. She
tugged it gratefully around her thin frame, and let the silence settle around them again.

"She was all alone, Janie," Frankie's gruff voice shatters the stillness.

She doesn't bother interrupting. He's going to tell her whether she wants him to or not.

"It was bad at first, right after you left. We all took it pretty hard. It was so sudden. One
day you were here, and then, out of the blue you were gone. Ma had a rough go of it
when you wouldn't return her calls."

"Frankie-" but it isn't her turn yet.

"But. Well. I think that she, that Maura had it the worst out of all of us," he lets out a
sigh and runs his fingers through his thick brown hair. "You should've seen her, Jane,"
and it's her name, not the fond Janie, which lets her know that he is being serious. "I
thought we were going to lose her there for awhile. She started pulling away, going
back to way she was before. Before you, before the two of you..." he trails off, and they
stand side by side, not looking at one another.

"Ma would come into the café all worried about her. She was living in her freaking
guest house and she said she'd only see the Doc once a week. Tops. Maura was always
working, always in the morgue. She got pretty thin, even Stanley would try and force her
to take some food when she stopped by. Stanley. That rat bastard even noticed."

Jane can't help the whimper that escapes her.

"Ma was making her meals, putting them in her freezer. But, I don't know if she ever
actually ate them, or if she just let them pile up there. I don't know. They started calling
her Queen of the Dead again, around the precinct. Frost and I stuck up for her," he
sounds a tiny bit proud of that fact. "I'd just gotten promoted, and we made sure to shut
down anyone who tried to talk about her that way."

Jane glances over and grabs his arm quickly in gratitude. He understands.

"But they weren't wrong," and he sounds apologetic now. "She buried herself in her
facts, in her science. She shut down, Janie. She wouldn't come to Sunday dinner or go
out to the Robber with us on Friday nights. Ma said that Thursdays were the worst.
That she'd go over and find the doc passed out on the couch, a bottle of wine next to
her, still in her work clothes."

Jane nods. "Thursdays," she clears her throat, "Thursdays were our days."

"Yeah. Well, it got pretty bad there for awhile. She kind of went off the deep end, ya
know? We didn't really know what to do, how to draw her out. You were always the best
at that. And none of us could reach you either. You were just gone, and we didn't really
understand what happened and Maura refused to talk about it. Anytime someone
mentioned your name, she would just get all angry looking and walk away. I thought she
was actually going to kill Crowe one day when we were down at autopsy and he was
running his mouth off about you. I nearly punched himself. The jackass."

Jane can't help but laugh at that and it helps to break the tension. Oh, Crowe. He'd
always be a dipshit.

Frankie looks slightly pleased that he got her to smile, but he frowns again and looks
back towards the door, making sure no one is there to overhear them.

"She refused to take time off though. We all suggested it, but she refused."

"The distraction. She needed the distraction. Me, too," Jane's husky voice breaks a bit
on the words.

"I suppose. But one day, about six months after you left, her ma showed up, just out of
the blue. She appeared in the café and I think Maura was more surprised than all of us.
Mrs. Isles said she'd gotten a call, that she was going to stay for awhile. None of us
could figure out who called her."

"I did," Jane admits quietly and her brother doesn't look in the least bit surprised.

"Korsak and I thought maybe..."

"I kept tabs...after I moved," Jane is finding it hard to think about that first year, let
alone talk about it. She'd tried to bury those memories. The silence of her apartment,
unpacked boxes still scattered around, empty beer bottles everywhere. The hours spent
in the gym attempting to forget. The overtime at work. "I was still in touch with
Cavenaugh, and Korsak now and then. I made him swear not to tell you all," she says
quickly when Frankie opens his mouth to object. "Don't be mad at him. I just, I needed
some space. And if Ma got wind of it all, she'd have come down there. And I-I just
couldn't deal with it. Don't be mad, brother. Please."

And he isn't. Solid Frankie. Always the good one.

"So, I had them keep me in the loop. Check up on her for me. Since I couldn't do it,
wasn't welcome to - well, because I couldn't. And I called Constance. She needed
someone to talk some sense into her. Someone who was a third party, removed. Who
didn't necessarily care for me. Someone who would just take Maura's side."

"We did," Frankie is quick to interject. "She's family."

"I know," Jane looks at him lovingly. "But Constance understood. I knew Maura wouldn't
call her on her own, even after all that business with Paddy Doyle. So, I called her. I'm
not sure if Constance will ever speak to me again after what I told her. Not sure if I
want her to," Jane is staring at the ground with a hard expression on her face now. "But
Maura needed her, so I made the call."

"Well, it worked," Frankie assures her. "I think Mrs. Isles was here for a month. And
after that, Maura started coming out with us again, started coming over for dinner,
babysitting TJ, warming up to Ma again. It was never really the same after that. She'd
always disappear when you came back to visit. We couldn't get her to come to dinner
for weeks after you'd gone. But, once Annie was born, she and that little kid. I don't
know what it is with the two of them, but," he breaks off, looking apologetic.

"It's alright, Frankie. She needed an aunt. I get it."

"She loves you, too, Janie. They both do."

"I know. It's okay."

"She's really good with them. I think it kind of surprised her, how quickly the two of
them latched onto her."

"Yeah," Jane looks a bit wistful now. "Yeah, I knew she'd be great with them. Well, she
was good with TJ when he was just a baby."

Frankie agrees. "Anyway. I'm sorry we didn't tell you she was coming over tonight. But
Ma invited her weeks ago. Constance always spends Christmas abroad since - "

"Since Maura's father died," Jane finished.

"Yeah," he is surprised.

"I told you," Jane is embarrassed. "I kept tabs."

"And then we found out yesterday that you were coming. It was such short notice, and
Ma didn't want to cancel on Maura, and she was afraid if you knew that you wouldn't
come. She misses you so much, Janie. I know she can be overbearing and ridiculous-"

Jane snorted. That was an understatement.

"But she talks about you all the time. Her daughter, the big FBI Agent. She's proud of
you. In her own Ma way. We all are. But, we had a heck of a time convincing Maura this
morning at the station that she should still come, was still welcome, even though you'd-
well, even though you'd be here. She didn't want to. But Frost and I, we practically
forced her. No one should be alone on Christmas, Janie," and her brother sounds
hopefully. He's asking her to understand.

"It's okay. I get it." And she does. She knows what it's like to spend the season alone on
your couch, just the alcohol for company. And she wouldn't wish that on anyone, not
even Maura, especially not Maura.

"It was just a shock is all. It's been awhile," she gives a frustrated laugh and scrapes at
the ice with her shoe. "I tried to forget," her voice is so low that he has to lean forward
a bit to hear. "After it all happened. I tried to forget her."

She has tears in her eyes, which she wipes away angrily. But her brother pulls her into a
firm hug, holding her tightly. They usually don't do this: have these heart to hearts. But
it's nice to let it out a little bit, to have someone who cares, and is willing to listen. To
feel supported again. Frankie has grown up since Jane went away. He was a good cop,
an even better homicide detective, and he's a good brother.

The door opens behind them and the two break apart, turning to face the newcomer.
It's Maura. Looking apologetic and unsure, a coat wrapped tightly around her. "I didn't
mean to interrupt," she rushes to head back inside.

"No!" the word is harsh, louder than she intended, but it has the desired effect because
the doctor freezes.

"I'll just, well, I'll be inside if you need me," Frankie claps his hands awkwardly together.
"Okay?" he asks his older sister and she gives him a nod. When he asks Maura the same
question, touching her on the arm gently, waiting for her response, Jane wants to be
jealous, wants to be angry, but instead she is touched. And then she is furious with
herself. She isn't supposed to care anymore. What's it to her if her family cares for the
doctor. But it does matter. She is so thankful that they love the smaller woman, that
they've picked up where Jane left off. So goddamn thankful.

Maura assures Frankie that she's alright and he shuts the door behind himself, taking
the warm light that had spilled out onto the snow with him. Leaving the two of them
behind, alone, out in the cold, for the first time in a decade.

Chapter 3 for your viewing pleasure. Let me know what y'all are thinking. Will our girls
make it through?

Jane regrets shouting for Maura to stay as soon as Frankie is swallowed up by the
warmth of the house, and the two women are left staring at one another awkwardly. The
Agent has her arms crossed in front of her, still wearing Frankie's jacket, and she is
stubbing her foot at the snow on the walkway, trying to figure out what to say. Maura is
watching her, her pale face glowing in the dark, her eyes shining in the reflected light
of the hanging Christmas lights.

"I-," Jane starts. But that's about as far as she gets. She doesn't know how to talk to the
doctor anymore.

"Jane," and the way the blonde says her name, soft and lilting, the same way she used
to, turns Jane's insides to mush.
"I'm sorry for being here tonight, for ruining your Christmas Eve," the blonde apologizes
nervously.

"S'okay," Jane settles on. "You didn't ruin it."

Maura looks slightly thankful at the admission. "I tried to get out of it. When your
mother informed that you would be coming. But-"

"You didn't have anywhere else to go. I get it." Jane cuts her off, and Maura looks as
though she has been slapped.

"No, I suppose not," she affirms shakily.

"I just- Goddammit!" Jane spun on her heel and took a few solid steps away, needing
the distance, the space to compose herself. "I wasn't expecting to see you is all."

"I know."

She knows Maura is looking at her, studying her. "You look good, Jane."

Jane hunches her shoulders defensively. She wants to say, Thank you. So do you. Better
than good. But she is still reeling from the fact that Maura is there at all, that they are
attempting a civil conversation. So instead, she spits out, "What do you care?" She can
picture Maura's reaction to her words: a step back, and then she'd straighten her spine,
pull herself up to her full height, face set in a determined scowl, masking the tears in
her eyes. Yes, that is the scene playing out behind her; she doesn't need to turn around.

"I suppose that I-I don't," Maura snaps, but Jane can hear the lie there. The doctor can't
really lie, not truly, but when she is mad, hurt, she can force herself into a half truth, a
white lie.

"Well, good," Jane responds, bitch mode fully activated. "It's not your place to care. You
gave up that right long ago."

There is silence from the porch.

"Jesus, Maur!" Jane whips back around. And stops because Maura looks absolutely
lovely standing there with snowflakes falling into her honey blonde curls, her head
cocked defiantly in the agent's direction. She looks just as beautiful as she did all those
years ago. Jane shakes her head angrily. She doesn't think about Maura that way
anymore. That's behind her. It's the past.

"I just wanted to get through this holiday. See the family and move on. Not have to deal
with any of this shit. Any of this drama."

"With me."

"Exactly!"

"With us."

Jane's hackles are up automatically at that word. She clenches her jaw, "There is no us."

Maura seems to shrink several inches at the ice in the brunette's voice. "No, I-I know
that. It's not what I mea-"
"You made damn sure there was no more us. You didn't want there to be any
more us," Jane is practically choking on the words.

"I know, Jane. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Yeah," Jane scoffs. "Sure."

"I am, Jane. Please."

"It's a bit late for apologies, Maura. A decade too late really." There are tears running
down Maura's cheeks now, but Jane can feel the fury building in her, the fire is
consuming her, and she doesn't have the strength to fight it anymore. "What are you
even doing here? This isn't your family, Maura!" It's a lie, but she can't take it back.
"This is my family. Mine! You don't belong here!" She doesn't know where the anger has
come from. "My first time back in Boston in three years. Three fucking years! And of
course you show up! Of course you do," the agent hears the horrible words leaving her
mouth, the selfish words, but she can't stop. "You shouldn't be here. You don't belong
here. I do. Not you!"

She finally cuts herself off, her knuckles are digging into her palms, leaving little
crescent moon marks, and she can hear the blood rushing through her head. Maura is
shaking in her place on the porch, but she doesn't refute it. She doesn't argue, even as
the tears freeze on her cheeks. Jane forces herself to calm down, counting to ten, and
then again, until her breathing finally slows and she can relax her fists.

"Sorry," she mutters, suddenly embarrassed, stricken at the heartbroken look on Maura's
face. "That wasn't true, Maura. I'm sorry. I just - I never see them, and I feel like they're
forgetting about me, you know? I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm sorry," she
moves closer to the porch, reaching out a hand, but letting it fall again when Maura
doesn't move except to wipe at her tears. "I'm sorry, Maur."

"No," and the doctor's voice is surprisingly steady. "You're right; they're not my family."

"Yes, they are," Jane sighs. "They are your family. And they love you. They love you just
like I- like I used," Jane pretends not to see Maura flinch on the word, "used to love
you."

Maura glances back at the closed door, the sound of carol singing just reaching them
through the wood and thin glass window panes. "I shouldn't have come, Jane. I'll get my
things and go."

But the agent takes a quick leap forward, catching Maura's sleeve in her hand to stop
her, "Don't go." She lets go immediately, holding her hands up in surrender. "Please.
Don't go. I'm sorry that I was a bitch. You belong here. Don't leave."

The doctor's hazel eyes take in Jane's contrite appearance and she finally nods her
ascent. "Alright."

The two are back to staring at one another. Jane feels that it's her turn to break the
silence. "So, ah, how are you?" She punches herself internally. It's not her place to ask,
to care, but, now that they are alone, she finds that she desperately wants to know. She
doesn't want Maura to go back inside and for them to spend the rest of the holiday
pretending that the other doesn't exist.

Maura glares at her, but relents a little. "I'm...alright. Work is keeping me busy."

And Jane nods. "Yeah, yeah, me too."

"I believe Vince is getting ready to retire in the spring."

"Yeah, that's what Frankie said." Anther pause. "Well, I, that is, it looks like you and
Annie get along pretty well."

Maura's face lights up at the mention of the little girl. "She's wonderful, isn't she?"

"Yeah. Yeah she is. A spitfire."

"Mhmm! She's absolutely delightful. I greatly enjoy our time together."

"Looks like it," Jane manages to keep any hint of jealousy out of her tone. "I always
knew you'd be great with kids. I mean, you were a natural with TJ after he was born,"
but the mention of babies has Maura staring at her shoes, and Jane blushes and looks
away. Crap.

"Jane, I-"

"No, I get it. Sorry I brought it up."

"Jay," Maura claps her hand over her mouth at the nickname, but Jane chooses to
ignore it.

"I knew I'd get to say, I told you so, to the great Doctor Isles someday," Jane jokes,
attempting to lighten the mood. It doesn't work.

"I regret it," Maura's whispered confession is so quiet, Jane is sure she's misheard.
"Everyday."

"Maura," Jane warns.

"I do, Jay," the blonde is staring at her, her words seeming to pierce straight through
the layers Jane has on, searing into her skin. "And I'm sorry for it. Everyday."

"I put it behind me, Maur. I moved on," Jane tries to sound nonchalant.

"I know that. So did I, I suppose. We both did. But that doesn't mean I don't miss you."

"Maura," it's a plea now. Jane is begging the other woman to stop, to be quiet.

"Your family," Maura indicates the house, "They've been so wonderful. So good to me.
But, it's extremely difficult to be around them sometimes. Especially around Annie. She's
so much like you. She reminds me so much of you, Jay," her voice cracks on the final
syllable.

"Maur," Jane has stepped forward and is reaching out, pulling Maura into her arms as
the other woman begins to sob. "Maura, Maura, Maura." It is a chant now. The doctor
rests her head on Jane's chest, giving into the embrace, and Jane shifts so they are
closer. She can't help but revel at the way Maura sinks into her. It's different than their
last embrace was. Their bodies have changed, but they still seem to fit together as they
did back then, just as perfectly. It feels wonderful to have the doctor close. Jane
breathes in Maura's scent, her vanilla shampoo, her perfume, still the same as it was ten
years before. She doesn't say anything, just stands there holding the woman she used to
love, waiting for Maura to regain control, to stop the flood of her tears.
All too soon, the doctor is pulling away and Jane releases her grip automatically,
missing the feeling immediately. "I'm sorry," Maura mumbles, still sniffling.

"S'fine," Jane shrugs and sticks her hands into her pocket in order to keep herself from
reaching out again.

"That was - It was highly irregular behavior," Maura explains.

"It's okay, Maur. Really. I get it," and she does.

"My reasons," she pauses and Jane indicates that she understands, "they're still reasons."

Jane lets out a whoosh of air. "I know that."

"Did you ever-" Maura looks up at her shyly, "ever consider having kids? Afterwards, I
mean."

But Jane is shaking her head. "No. I was busy at first. I didn't have the time. And then,
well, what agency in their right mind would give a kid to a single woman who gets shot
at for a living?"

"There's still time," the doctor responds.

"I'm 45," Jane shrugs again. "No point now. Besides I -" she breaks off.

Maura waits patiently.

"I didn't really want kids with anyone except for you anyway." It's the first time she's
ever admitted it to herself. The first time she's put into words the fact that the major
reason she never tried for kids afterwards was because, without Maura at her side, she
couldn't picture it. Couldn't see herself as a mother.

"I'm so sorry, Jane. I'm sorry I couldn't give that to you."

Jane shrugs again. "You didn't want kids. I get it."

"You would have made a wonderful mother, Jay. A child would have been lucky to have
you."

"Same with you," the agent insists. But it is tired, an argument they've had many times in
the past. Too many times. And Maura takes a step back, reclaiming her space.

"Yes, well. Tommy and Lydia have been great with the kids. I watch them on Thursdays."

"Our days," Jane interrupts and then wants to slap herself.

"And it's enough for me," Maura continues on. "They're wonderful."

Jane couldn't help but agree, thinking fondly of her niece and nephew.

"TJ appears to be hitting his teenage rough patch. Tommy is at his wits' end with him.
But, I keep telling him it's most likely due to a simply hormonal imbalance. He'll grow
out of it."
"Yeah, well. The Rizzoli's aren't really know for their easy teenage years," Jane laughed
lightly. "We all went through that rebellious phase."

"Yes," Maura agreed. "Well, TJ will be fine."

"Mhmm." They lapsed into quiet after that. Jane reflected on the turns this conversation
had taken. "Thank you." Maura gave her a curious look. "For the present."

Understanding appeared in the doctor's delicate features. "I saw it this afternoon as I
was running out the door. I just thought that you, well, it's tradition."

"It was tradition, yes," Jane acceded.

Maura looked self-conscious. "Your mother still drops one off every Christmas Eve. We
exchange them."

"She does?" Jane was surprised.

"I hang them in the downstairs window now, not the-th-the bedroom."

"Right. Of course not."

"But, I thought that maybe this year, since you were going to be here, I should give it to
you."

"Well, I'll give it to Ma then. Wouldn't want her to miss a year," Jane wants to take it
back when Maura's face drops in disappoint, but she doesn't. "Wouldn't be fair to her."

"I suppose so," Maura responds, trying to hide her sadness.

"We should go in," Jane indicated the door. She didn't really want to rejoin the party;
her holiday mood had died along with their reunion, but she also didn't think she could
stand another minute alone in the night with the doctor. She could still feel the anger
rushing through her veins, the hurt, but it was muffled by her body's physical reaction.
Even after all these years, she felt the irresistible pull of the spell Maura seemed to put
her under. She never could resist the doctor's presence. Even after they'd been together
for three years, she'd always felt the need to be closer to Maura, to have her hand in
her own, to be next to her on the couch, close enough to reach out and touch her. And
Maura had been the same way. Neither were very touchy-feely when it came to others.
Jane abhorred physical affection really. But it was different between the two of them,
and it never really seemed to wear off. Even when they were fighting, arguing, they'd
always fallen asleep in the same bed, their exhausted bodies tucked around one
another. And it had never lasted long, at least not until the last one. That one had been
more of a marathon than their usual blowup though, going on and on, until eventually
Jane had had enough. And it was over.

But now, standing so close to her old love again, Jane could still feel that pull. She
needed to be around people. To have that chaperone before she did something she was
bound to regret. They'd moved on, grown up. They didn't have feelings for one another
anymore, just a lot of hurt. Baggage. Emotional entanglement. That was the only thing
between the two now, Jane reminded herself.

So, she shoved down the warmth rising in her stomach, the tiny voice in the back of her
head, and pushed past the medical examiner to open the door. "After you," she
indicated the doctor should precede her inside. They took off their coats and hung
them up, studiously avoiding one another's gazes.
"Jane, I-"

"Let's just get through Christmas, okay? And then I'll go back to Virginia and we can
pretend this never happened."

"Oh. Alright. Sure," Jane avoided the disappointment in Maura's voice and led the way
back to the living room instead.

"Just get through Christmas," she muttered to herself as they stepped back into the
family gathering. "You can do it, Rizzoli. Buck up." Jane smiled at Frankie when he shot
her a questioning look as her mother jumped up to drag Maura over to where the ladies
were discussing Sarah and Frost's upcoming nuptials.

"All good?" Frankie mouthed, and Jane gave him a thumbs up. He looked relieved, and
went back to monitoring the chess match.

Jane surveyed the room for a moment, taking in her family and friends, the love present
there, the joy, and couldn't help but smile. But then she locked eyes with Maura, and
the smile was wiped off her face immediately. No matter that they'd talked, managed to
be mostly civil, it still stung to see Maura there, still caused Jane to feel as if a bullet
were tearing through her gut. She looked away and decided that she needed another
beer. It was going to be a long night.

"Goodnight!"

"Merry Christmas!" Jane and her mother waved Frankie out the door just after midnight.
He was the last to go, and finally, the house fell still as Angela shut the door behind her
middle child.

"Well," she exclaimed. "That went well!"

Jane grudgingly agreed.

"Did you see the bracelet the boys got me?" She held it up for her daughter's
inspection.

"It's beautiful, Ma."

Her mother suddenly trapped her in a tight hug. "I'm just so happy you're home, Janie.
I'm so glad you're spending Christmas with us!"

"Me, too," Jane had to admit, heading towards the living room to finish picking up.

Her mother trailed after her, chattering on about the gifts and dinner and, "Oh, don't
Sarah and Barry just make the cutest couple?!"

Jane grunted in the appropriate places as she tied the trash bag closed and placed it by
the stove. Her mother never needed much encouragement during a conversation. She
could pretty much carry it by herself, as long as she had audience. The agent smiled
fondly to herself as she listened to the matriarch prattle on about this and that.

"And Maura looked stunning tonight of course," Jane perked up at the mention of the
doctor, trying not to look interested. "As usual of course. I was so happy she took the
day off this year. Last year she insisted on working on Christmas Eve. She's the boss, I
told her. Certainly she can have someone else handle it!"

Jane had paused in wiping down the sink and was staring at her mother, "Ma-"

"She just works so hard you know! I always worry about her, but-"

"Ma!"

"What, Jane?" Her mother sounded flustered and the agent knew she'd been ignoring
her on purpose.

"You could have given me a heads up you know."

"I just didn't want you to get all upset about it, Janie. You know how you are."

Jane crossed her arms. "How I'm what, ma?"

"You just throw these things out of proportion. I only wanted to have a good holiday
with all of my children."

Jane looked contrite at the emphasis on all. Of course her mother cared for Maura as a
second daughter. Wasn't that what Jane had wanted in the first place? Hadn't it been
the one thing she'd asked her mother to do before she'd run off to Virginia. Angela
reassured her that she already cared for Maura that way, but Jane had made her mother
promise. And she'd stuck by that promise. Angela Rizzoli had nothing if not plenty of
motherly love and affection to go around.

"I would have appreciated a bit of warning though, Ma. I mean, really."

"Don't you really me," her mother order and the grown child rolled her eyes. "Besides,"
Angela sniffed, "it's about time the two of you got over it."

"Ma," Jane warned. "That is none of your business."

"Maybe not. But the happiness of my children IS my business. And whatever happened-"
she held up a hand to stop her daughter from cutting in. "Whatever happened, it was
ten years ago, Janie. It's gone on long enough. I think I speak for everyone when I say
that we've had enough."

"Jesus, Ma. This is between Maura and I. It's not a family matter."

"It is a family matter when we're the ones who have to deal with the fallout, missy." The
detective knows better than to argue when her mother puts her determined face on,
otherwise she's asking to get swatted with a towel or some other kitchen implement.

"Well, we were civil enough tonight, weren't we?"

"Yes, I suppose," her mother glared at her. "Now I expect that to continue for the rest
of your visit. You two need to talk about it, put it behind you both so you can stop
running from it and Maura can finally move on."

"Easier said than done," Jane muttered under her breath.

"Oh, honey," sometimes it still took the agent off guard at how quickly her mother could
go from demanding to soft in the blink of an eye. The older woman, was at her side,
cupping her daughter's cheek in her rough hand with all the care she possessed. "I know
it's been hard on you. I just want my girls to be happy. I love you both so much!"

Jane leaned into the motherly touch gratefully, even accepting a kiss on the cheek "I
know, ma."

Just just like that, her mother was back to all business. She clapped her hands together
and surveyed the kitchen with a critical eye. "Well, this doesn't look too shabby. I think
I'll go up to bed. It's an early morning tomorrow."

Jane groaned at the thought of another entire day of family togetherness and Christmas
celebration. She missed them while she was away, but damn, they were a lot all at once.

"We're having Christmas dinner at Maura's house tomorrow night, and I promised to
head over early to cook."

"Maura's? Why not here again?"

"Maura offered, Janie! Besides she has more room."

Jane decided to let that part go for now. It was a fight she wouldn't win, but, "More
food? Jesus! Why don't we just take the leftovers?"

Her mother frowned at her. "It's Christmas dinner. We've got to have all the fixings."

"Fixings. Hell."

"Don't swear," her mother commanded. "You don't have to come over to help since I
know how much you look down on such homey pursuits," she made sure Jane
understood her distaste for her daughter's feelings. "But, I expect you there by three
o'clock. I'll send Tommy over here with the kids in the morning to get you up."

Jane sighed. Her mother patted her cheek once more before heading for the stairs. She
stopped in the doorway to send her daughter one last smile.

"Thank you for coming, Janie."

The brunette softened. "Sure, Ma."

"We're all happy to have you here. Even Maura."

"I know."

"Work it out, sweetie. You two. You're both something else."

"Ma," Jane whined.

"You're made for each other, Janie. Everybody knows it, except the two of you
apparently. You both just need to stop being so stubborn and get your heads out of
your asses!"

"Ma!" Jane shrieked, secretly delighted at her mother's foul language. But she turned
serious quickly. "Maura doesn't feel that way anymore, Ma. It's been a long time. We
both said a lot of mean things. She's moved on by now."
"Janie," her mother waited until she had her full attention. "I lived with that woman for
years. I watched her try to get over you. And I don't think it worked. Besides, you two
are soul mates or something, and you don't just stop loving your soul mate. Trust me.
I'm your mother. I know." Leaving her daughter with that tidbit of advice, she headed
upstairs.

"I'll be praying for a Christmas miracle!" Angela's voice called down from the upper
level before her bedroom door shut.

"Love you, too," Jane chuckled under her breath, finished up her last chore, and then
flicked off the lights, heading up the stairs herself.

She pulled on her red sox shirt and boxer shorts and then slid into the tiny twin bed,
pulling the covers under her chin. The glow from the street light came in through the
small window, illuminating the snow still falling outside. They were going to have to
shovel in the morning if this kept up. Jane snuggled down into the covers, attempting
to find a comfortable position in the unknown bed. It felt strange to be going to sleep
under her mother's roof again. It made her feel like a kid again. She even felt the
excitement in her belly that signaled Santa was coming and Christmas the next day.

However, at the thought of tomorrow, she buried her face in her hands. Tomorrow
meant dinner, which meant Maura's house. The house she had once lived in, had called
home for more than two years. Until it suddenly wasn't her home anymore. Until she'd
left for Virginia, leaving behind her entire life. She was nervous about setting foot in
that house again. The place held so many memories for the Agent. And she was worried
about having to see Maura in her own environment. In the place where Jane would now
be the outsider, the unwelcome intruder. Although, Jane felt that Maura had become
more a part of the Rizzoli clan than she, herself was over the years. Jane had distanced
herself on purpose; she hadn't gotten anything she hadn't asked for and orchestrated of
her own free will. But, presented with the results of her actions, it hurt to see how far
apart she'd allowed herself to drift.

The brunette didn't want to have to spend another day avoiding her feelings, the past
that had settled above her like a suffocating blanket. She didn't want to have to meet
Maura's knowing gaze, to pretend not to feel anything when she caught sight of the
doctor's beautiful curves. That it didn't physically pain her to watch the blonde laughing
at one of Korsak's jokes while Jane could barely stand to speak to her.

The agent sighed. It was Christmas. Christmas meant family, which meant Maura Isles.
Jane was just going to have to suck it up and get over it. And, in three more days, she'd
get on a plane and go back to Virginia and pretend that nothing had ever happened.
Three more days. She could handle that. She could.

But, for all her blustering and self-confidence, the FBI Agent fell asleep to thoughts of
a honey blonde, memories of happier Christmases, the glowing smile of one Dr. Maura
Isles. A smile Jane had missed more than anything else about her hometown. "Merry
Christmas, Maur," she whispered aloud, letting the darkness take the words and fling
them out the window onto the breeze, swept away, out into the night and the snow and
the stars.

The clank of silverware on dishes provides a cheery melody as everyone digs into the
second Christmas feast in as many days. "Oh, Ma. This is delicious," Frankie moans in
appreciation as he takes a bite of her famous turkey meatballs and potatoes.

"Pass the rolls?" Annie calls down the long table that has been set up in Maura's
spacious dining room.
"Don't talk with your mouthful," TJ nudges his little sister.

"Sorry," she mutters back through a mouthful of cranberry sauce.

"This really is good, Ma," Jane echoes her brother, and a chorus of agreement rings out.

"Well, I wouldn't have been able to do it without Maura," her mother blushes happily,
reaching across the table and clasping the doctor's hand quickly. Jane chokes back a
gag. Jesus. She's managed to remain civil throughout the entire day. Well, actually, she's
basically been a whiz at avoiding the honey blonde all afternoon, but now, they are at
the table, sitting directly across from her, and it's taking all her concentration not to
meet the doctor's hazel eyed gaze. She absolutely cannot risk it.

She'd woken that morning, grateful that her body's internal clock seemed to have shut
off for the holiday, letting her catch a few extra hours. Since moving South, she'd
trained herself to wake up at six am every single day and hit the gym: a lesson in self-
control and dedication. But, seeing as it is Christmas, she's managed to sleep past her
usual internal wakeup call. She stretches her long body like a cat, practically purring in
the cocoon that is her bed. It's already eleven by the time she rubs all of the sleep out
of her eyes and stumbles downstairs.

Surprised not to find her mother in the kitchen, she puts the coffee pot on and glances
around curiously. She sinks down into a chair at the table and it's then that she spots
the note.

Off to Maura's to start dinner. I had Frankie drop me off so you've got the car. I expect
you there by two. Dinner's at four. I expect that you don't need directions. Don't be
late! Merry X-Mas. XOXO - Ma

"Yeah, yeah," Jane mumbled aloud. "Directions. Hell." Just then, the coffee finished
brewing and she poured herself a cup gratefully. She took it into the living room, and
peered out the window. The snow came up to the window ledge now. "Shit," she
muttered. There was little to no hope that her brother had shoveled when he picked her
mother up, which meant she had her work cut out for her that morning. Damn.

After finishing her coffee, and skipping anything more substantial. She was going to
feast again that night after all, Jane headed over to the door and shrugged into her coat
and boots, slipping a pair of Tommy's old mittens on. They dwarfed her long, thin
hands, but she didn't care. They'd keep the chill out. Stepping outside, Jane had to
cover her eyes for a moment: the sun was blinding off the newly fallen snow. She made
her way to the garage and dug around until she found a new, green shovel.

Looking around at the driveway, she groaned. They'd gotten at least eight inches the
night before. She hadn't had to shovel in years, and her back muscles yelped in protest
at the motion for the first few throws. After several moments, she managed to find a
solid rhythm and set to work, actually grateful for the physical labor.

Back when she and Maura had first started hanging out, the doctor had often roused
the then-detective from her warm bed early in the mornings to go for a run. Jane had
whined about it at the time, bitching and moaning the entire way. But, she'd always
appreciated that the exercise woke her up for the day, allowed her to process her
thoughts and set them in order. It centered her. So, when she moved away, she'd
continued the tradition, always alone though. She hadn't wanted any distractions. Not
having run that morning, the shoveling was a welcome chore.
Jane reflected on the day before. It'd gone well. Almost better than she'd expected.
Annie and TJ were getting so big, growing up, and Jane shook her head at how much of
herself and her brothers she'd noticed in the siblings. And Korsak looked the same as
always, just as sarcastically sentimental and ridiculous. Jane was pleased that Frost and
Sarah had shown up. They were spending Christmas Day with Sarah's family, so Jane
probably wouldn't see them again on her visit. Frost had made her promise to spend an
evening with them at the Dirty Robber on her next run through town. She'd heartily
agreed.

She tried not to think about the honey blonde, but it was a losing battle, and, eventually
her thoughts turned to the medical examiner. She pictured Maura in her mind and had
to admit that the doctor had looked absolutely stunning the night before. She'd gotten
older, softened her sharp edges. Hell, they all had. Jane had even found a grey hair a
few days before. But, Maura still looked just as beautiful as she had last time Jane had
seen her. That hadn't been a good day, and Jane forced the image out of her mind.

Maura. Jesus. The detective didn't really know how to process what she was feeling.
She'd never been that great at all the reflection crap. She preferred to trust her instincts
and then move on, drowning any lingering emotions in work or beer. After their -
fight/talk/thing - the night before, they'd managed to be perfectly civil, wishing one
another a good night and merry christmas when Maura left. But the Agent wasn't sure if
she could keep up her cheerful façade for much longer. Maura had always been better
at putting on a good face. All those years of her parents' high stakes charity events and
parties. But Jane wore her heart on her sleeve, and her emotions were often clearly
visible on her face for anyone who was the least adept at human interaction. Maura may
not have been the most comfortable in a social gathering, Jane snorted, but the doctor
was an expert at reading facial indicators.

The brunette paused in her task to take off her coat and throw it aside, wiping away the
sweat that had accumulated on her brow. It was only about 20° but the heat of the
exercise was getting to her. She rotated her shoulders, pleased at the way her muscles
stretched and tightened in response. At least she was still in shape. Lots of agents let
themselves go by the time they hit 45. But, Jane had refused to give in. She expected a
lot out of her body, and she wasn't often disappointed.

It appeared, that Maura felt the same. Jane wondered idly if the doctor still did yoga.
The blonde used to love all that mediation crap. Jane much preferred a punching
dummy to some scented candles and a yoga mat. Jane caught herself smiling fondly at
the image of a focused Maura Isles, holding some fancy pose while Jane tried
desperately to make her laugh and break posture. It never worked, but she always kept
trying, until Maura would finally decide she'd had enough and lose concentration in
order to swat her annoying detective. The brunette ran her tongue across her bottom
lip, remembering how those play fights usually ended with a sigh.

Her shovel suddenly scraped on the pavement and she jerked out of her daydream,
realizing that she'd finished the job and reached the plowed road. Well. That was
interesting. Jane put her shovel away and headed back inside, stomping the snow off
her boots on her way in, and shaking her head simultaneously to clear it. She'd given up
the right to remember Maura that way long ago. It was part of the deal she'd made with
herself. No happy memories meant no sad memories, which meant, really, no memories
at all. And that was fine. The way she liked it.

Glancing at the clock, she let out a swear that would have been inappropriate if anyone
was within hearing distance. It's already one o'clock, and she still has to shower. The
detective pounded up the stairs, stripping as soon as she hit the bathroom, and hopping
into the spray before it's had time to fully heat up. "Fuck, that's cold," she grumbles,
hopping around until the water finally starts to warm. She took her time getting clean,
letting the water wash away the salt of her sweat from her shoveling endeavor and ease
the tension in her muscles. She clears her mind as well, grateful for the steam and the
heat. Jane turned it up until it was almost uncomfortably hot, riding the line between
soothing and burning, enjoying the way her skin turned red under the pounding spray,
and her brain cleared of the Maura-fog it'd been under since the night before.

She emerged feeling rejuvenated and ready to take on her family once again. But, when
it came time to get dressed, she stared forlornly at the clothes laid out on the twin bed.
She hadn't brought that much; it was only a quick visit after all. Unbidden, an image of
Doctor Isles came into her mind. The blond had looked...hot...in that little black dress
the night before. Jane doesn't have a dress, she doesn't even wear dresses all that often,
but now, thinking back to that sight, she can feel her core heating up. Shit. She isn't
supposed to feel that way about the good doctor any more. That was supposed to go
away, too.

Jane finally settles on the only nice pair of slacks that she packed and a deep purple
sweater that highlights her olive skin tone and dark hair. She is pleasantly surprised
when she looks at herself in the mirror. It'll do. It's the dressed up she ever gets, and
who's going to see her besides family and Korsak? Maura. Shit.

Time check. 1:50. Shit. She was going to be late. The agent headed for the bedroom
door, but paused on the threshold, tapping her finger against her thigh in deliberation.
Finally, she swung around and headed back to her suitcase, pulling a delicate silver
chain from an inner pocket. She clasped it around her neck and surveyed the effect in
the mirror. The small pendant glittered when it caught the light and Jane reached up to
touch it. It was the only piece of jewlery Dr. Isles had ever given her, for their two year
anniversary. She never wore it, but, for reasons she couldn't explain, the agent hadn't
been able to resist packing it with her things. With one last look at herself, remarkably
pleased at the outcome, the brunette turned on her heel and headed for the stairs. It
was time to face the music. Merry Christmas.

When Jane pulled up outside of the large house, she took several calming breaths
before opening the door of her mother's old Buick and stepping out into the street. It
wasn't the first time she'd been to Maura's house in ten years. Jane had made a point to
drive by whenever she was in town, just checking up on things she'd assured herself, but
she'd never swung by when the medical examiner was home. So, she wasn't surprised to
see that the exterior at least hadn't changed much in the past decade. It looked much
as it always had, besides the lights strung up along the roof and the new basketball
hoop installed up on the garage. That must be for the kids, Jane mused. She'd never
been able to convince the doctor to put one up.

Steeling herself, the agent rang the doorbell, but jumped slightly when it swung open
almost simultaneously. "Auntie Jay's here!" her niece announced loudly to the rest of
the house, jumping straight for her aunt's arms. "You're late," she accused.

Jane laughed. "Sorry, munchkin. Did I miss anything?"

"Nope! Momma and Amie are letting me help with the cookies. But nana's been asking
about you." The little one lowered her voice, "I think you're in trouble."

"Probably," Jane sighed. "Let's go see what I've done now. Lead the way." Jane let her
niece grab her by the hand and pull her inside. It didn't appear that much had changed
on the interior of the house either. It looked much the same as it had all those years
ago. There were more photographs up now. The agent spotted several of her niece and
nephew, smiling cheekily into the camera, as well as some of her mother and brothers.
Even Frost and Korsak made an appearance. Jane ran a finger lightly along one of
Frankie and Frost, arms over each other, grinning happily at whoever was taking the
picture. Jane noticed sadly that almost none of the pictures actually had Maura in them.
She'd always preferred to be behind the camera.
She forced herself to refocus on her niece, just as they stepped into the kitchen. "Santa
brought me lots of goodies," the six year old was saying. "Books and a new movie, and
pajamas," she rolled her eyes and Jane chuckled. The Rizzoli siblings had each received
a brand new pair of flannel pjs from the big man in red on Christmas morning. It was
tradition.

"Sounds like a good haul," Jane smiled at her and Annie smiled back.

"Sweetheart, come and help with the dough!" Lydia called just as Angela Rizzoli turned
and spotted her daughter entering the kitchen.

"Jane! You're late!" she squawked, wiping a hand on her apron and advancing on her
daughter.

Annie gave Jane a questioning look and the brunette gave her a conspiratorial smiled.
"Go on, munchkin. I'll handle the hurricane."

"I told you 2! It's almost half past!" Angela grouched, but her daughter merely smirked
and kissed her cheek.

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Ma. Lydia," Jane nodded to her sister-in-law.

"Hmph," her mother grumbled. "Well, now that you're here, can you please start the
salad?"

"Sure," Jane agreed, rolling up her sleeves.

"Oh. Hi, Jane," came a quiet voice from behind her. "I didn't hear you come in."

Jane turned, and caught her breath. Maura was wearing what were probably $400 white
jeans and a red shirt that perfectly highlighted her delicate breasts. Jane gave herself a
mental shake. Get a grip, Rizzoli.

"I rang the bell," she muttered.

Maura nodded. "Well...I- Merry Christmas."

"You, too," Jane mumbled and refocused her attention on the vegetables scattered over
the countertop.

She felt the doctor move next to her and couldn't help herself from taking a step away.
No one else seemed to notice the tension that had suddenly entered the room. Her
mother and Lydia were teasing the munchkin, too focused on their conversation to
notice the other two women. Out of the corner of her eye, Jane could see Maura
twirling a ring on her finger, a nervous habit she'd been prone to. Good. At least she
wasn't the only one feeling the pressure.

Suddenly, the twisting stopped. "Is that-" Maura's voice shook slightly. She'd seen the
necklace. "I bought that for you." It's almost a question.

Jane fiddled with the lettuce in her hand. "Yeah," she finally admits.

Maura reaches out and runs a hand along the pendant, and Jane can't help the shiver
that runs up her spine. She can feel the doctor's breath on her neck because the doctor
has moved closer and is leaning forward. "You kept it?" this is a question.
"So?" Jane slides away, not being able to be so near to the blonde. "So what?" She
finally looked up and met Maura's gaze. The doctor appeared, suddenly, very sad.

"Nothing. I- I just- it looks good on you."

Jane shrugs and looks away. "Thanks."

And then they're back to ignoring one another. Maura moves over to look at the
cooking Annie has just pressed out of the dough, and Jane takes the lettuce over to the
sink to rinse it off. The moment has passed, but the brunette can't get it out of her
head, the way Maura'd just reached out like that. What was she thinking? And then her
face, she'd looked so sad, melancholy. Lost in the past. The agent attempted to shake it
off and focus on her task. It was easier to make a stupid salad and listen to her mother
ramble than it was to think about the doctor not ten feet away. Much easier.

The boys had tramped in eventually and managed to pull both Jane and Annie away
from the women in the kitchen to head outside and make a giant snowman in Maura's
spacious backyard. Tommy donated his hat and Frankie, his mittens. And Annie had
begged a carrot and some radishes from her nana for the face. They spent the hour
leading up to dinner rolling giant snowballs, and eventually ended up making an entire
Snow Family. When Vince arrived, they staked out the front yard and bombarded him
with a blitz snowball attack, which morphed into a free for all, and when Lydia called
them in, they were all red-faced and panting, but pleased with their afternoon's efforts.
Even TJ, the moody teenager was grinning. Jane managed to tackle Frankie in one last
flying leap right before they head in, giving him the perfect whitewash, which he
threatened would be repayed in full sometime after the meal.

"Bring it on, brother," she taunted and he grandly flipped her off behind their niece's
back. God, it was afternoons like these that reminded her how nice it was to be home.

Once they were all finally dried off and settled around the candlelit table, Angela led
grace and then urged them to dig in. And here they were, stuffing their faces and
praising their mother's and wife's and friend's mad cooking skills. It really was too
delicious. Jane was used to take out and television dinners for one. Home cooking was
a welcome change.

"So, Frankie, tell us about this new girl of yours?" Angela asked her middle child,
passing the green beans to Korsak.

"What girl?"

Jane knew her brother well, and he was playing dumb. She hated it when her mother
tried to get involved in her own love life, but her brother, that was a different story.
"Yeah, Frankie. What brother?"

He glared at her across the table, but now all of the adults were focused on him.

"We went on two dates, alright? Jesus. You'd think we were getting married."

"What's she like?" Tommy inquired innocently and Jane smirked at him.

"What's she like? I dunno. She's.." Frankie glanced at all the interested faces turned in
his direction. "She's nice."
"How'd you meet her?"

Frankie shrugged. "The store."

"Ooooh, how romantic," Jane teased.

"Shut up, Janie. It's not like you've got anything better."

She kicked up under the table and he grunted, but their mother ignored the jab. "When
are you going to bring her around to the station? I'd like to meet her."

"Jesus, Ma! Are you kidding me?"

His mother merely looked at him, taking a bite of her turkey.

"You know," Maura suddenly cut in from her position next to Angela, "I read that
meeting a significant other's family too soon in a new relationship can be detrimental to
it's sustained longevity."

"Thank you, Maura," Frankie said.

"And, in fact, a relationship is often most successful if a couple creates their own
private identity before becoming a family affair."

Jane snorted into her plate. "What are you? The dating expert now? Because you've had
so much success in that department." The temperature in the room took a sudden nose
dive. It was Jane's turn to get kicked under the table.

Maura had immediately blushed and looked down at her plate. "No I- that's not it at al-"

"More wine?" Vince asked quickly glancing around the room.

"I'll get it," Jane stood from her place and headed for the kitchen avoiding the death
glare her mother was shooting her way. She grabbed another bottle off the wine rack
and began twisting out the cork, trying to control her shaking nerves. She hadn't been
able to keep the comment from slipping out. That jab from Frankie had hurt more than
she'd have liked and than Maura just had to jump in. She popped the cork out and
poured herself a glass, spilling some onto the counter in the process. "Dammit," she
swore angrily.

"Here," Korsak had come up behind her from the dining room and gave her a napkin.
"You okay?"

"I'm fine. Fine. I-Shit!" She noticed a stain spreading on her sweater. "Fuck."

"Janie."

"What?" she glared at him.

"We know it's hard on you."

"I'm fine, Korsak."

"Alright," he held up his hands in mock surrender. "But, we know it's gotta be tough,
coming back here after all this time. Just try and understand that she's trying just as
much as you are."

"Yeah. I get it alright. Perfect little doctor can do no wrong."

"Jane," he warned gruffly. "That's not it at all. We all love you both. But, when you went
away-"

"Jesus Christ. Here we go again," she swore under her breath, dabbing at the stain.

But Korsak continues over her, "You told us to look after her, Janie. So we did."

"I know that, alright. I get it. I was the one who went away. It's my own damn fault."

"You asked us to protect her, to make sure she had family."

"She has family. She has Constance. Freaking Paddy Doyle. Why does she need to
be here?"

"Janie." It wasn't a fair comment, she knows that.

"I just, I mean, jesus, Korsak. You know her. She's so freaking cold. I feel like I'm barely
hanging on over here, and it looks like she's hardly phased by it all."

"You know that's not true."

Jane is raising her voice even as she tries to remain calm, "Just look at her. Inviting us
all over here like she's one of us, but all the while staying removed. Frankie told me
what it was like after I left. And I kept tabs. She pulled away, closed herself off."

"Janie," he is being sharp now, but she doesn't care.

"Maybe you all should have let her go, Vince. What did they used to call her? Queen of
the dead? They're right you know. She's the freaking ice queen," Jane drops the towel
into the sink in disgust and spins to face her old partner, her hands outstretched in
disgust.

But Maura is standing in the doorway, coming for refills on the mashed potatoes. Her
face is pale and she is staring at the agent, shock and hurt playing on her delicate
features. Jane open and closes her mouth dumbly while Korsak stares at the floor.

"Maur, I-I didn't mean-"

"It's fine, Jane. If you'll excuse me," she handed the potatoes off to Vince and rushed
towards the stairs.

"Dr. Isles! Maura!" Vince called after her, setting the bowl down on the counter and
moving to go after her.

"Shit!" Jane swore, and she held out a hand to stop the man. "Let me," she said grimly.
"I'll go." He gives her a dubious look, but she is already heading for the stairs. She's the
one who put her foot in her own damn mouth. Maura has been nothing but welcoming,
and she had to go and be the bitch. That was her though wasn't it? Big bad Rizzoli,
always getting herself into trouble. Dammit. She flew up the stairs and then paused
outside the master bedroom door. The door Maura disappeared behind just as the
agent was hitting the landing. Jane growls, rubbing the scars on her palms. Shit. This
isn't going to be pretty.

AN2: Thoughts?

Forgoing a knock, the impetuous woman burst through the door and froze. She hasn't
been inside these four walls in a decade. It should look different. But it doesn't. Not
really. The sheets are new, and there are new patterns on the throw pillows, but almost
everything else looks the same. Jane takes a deep breath. Maura is standing with her
back to her, facing the window, looking out at the snow. She isn't making any noise, but
Jane knows that the doctor is crying by the way Maura has hunched her shoulders. Shit.
Why does she always have to act like such a freaking idiot?

The agent takes a few more steps into the room, her feet sinking into the thick white
carpeting on the floor. Jane had argued against that carpet originally. She swore that
she was going to spill something on it and then it would be ruined. But, that didn't
happen. She never really got the chance since she moved out a month after they had it
installed. She can't keep from glancing around. The room still has that warm, lived in
feel that she'd always loved about it. Jane had managed to convince Maura to spend
quite a few blustery days holed up in this room, cuddling, talking, doing other...stuff.
She feels her face burn and idly wonders how many others have shared that bed, her
bed, their bed since she'd gone. But it's an uncomfortable thought, one which makes her
squirm, so she pushes it away.

Neither woman has said anything yet, and it's been almost five minutes. Jane is in the
process of coming up with an apology, when she spots it, sitting on the dresser, tucked
partly behind a jewelry box. It's a picture of her, well, of her and Maura. They are sitting
on the couch, neither one of them must have been aware of the photographer because
they've got their foreheads touching and are holding hands, smiling and laughing to one
another. Jane wonders who took that picture. It must have been her mother, but she is
surprised to see it here. Now.

She tears her eyes away and looks back at the closed off view the doctor is presenting
to her now. Why did we let it get like this? How did it come to this?

Jane clears her throat gently, but it echoes in the silence. "I'm sorry."

Maura doesn't respond, so she tries again. "I'm sorry, Maur. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's fine, Jane. I understand," her voice is cool, controlled.

"No," Jane slapped her thigh in frustration and, in front of her, Maura jumped slightly.
Jane frowned. "It isn't alright. I've been nothing but mean to you ever since I got here,
and you've been so welcoming. So freaking nice. It isn't okay."

The doctor doesn't agree, but she doesn't deny it either.

"That name - what they used to call you - it isn't true."

"Queen of the dead," Maura said softly. "I suppose it could be a compliment."

"Jesus!" Jane lets a whoosh of air. "I shouldn't have said it. Okay?"
"You can't just take something like that back," and now Maura is starting to lose her
calm veneer. Her voice shakes a bit.

"I know that," Jane softens her tone. "I know that." She can't help but step forward, an
automatic reaction to Maura's presence.

"Fine. I accept your apology."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

Jane doesn't want Maura to just forgive her. She doesn't deserve it. She doesn't want
them to just go back downstairs and pretend like it never happened. She can't pretend.
"You can't accept my apology."

Maura finally turns at that, her eyes are red and slightly puffy, but she has stopped
crying.

"I don't accept your acceptance," and it's such a ridiculous statement that she almost
smiles.

"That's ridiculous!"

And then she does smile. "I was a bitch to you, Maura. Today. Last night," she pauses.
"Ten years ago," and Maura flinches, "so I don't want you to just forgive me for saying
something mean."

"Ten years ago," Maura is looking at the floor. "it wasn't all your fault. I-I couldn't give
you what you wanted. I-I didn't want a baby, Jane. I'm sorry."

But Jane shakes her head. "A baby? A kid? Jesus, Maura. Don't you see. I got over the
baby thing. I was willing to let it go, to move past it. It didn't matter if we had ten kids
or just a bunch of nieces and nephews. We were supposed to be together, Maura. That
was the important thing."

"I would have been denying you of your dream, Jane. You would have resented me. Not
right away," she hastens to add when it appears that the agent is about to interrupt.
"But eventually."

"So is that why you refused to even discussing moving to Virginia when they offered me
the job? You just shut me down, Maur!" and now, Jane realizes, they are getting to the
crux of the matter. They'd yelled about babies, about everything under the sun, but
she'd never really gotten a reason out of the stubborn doctor.

"You wouldn't even consider it! Every time I brought it up, you just shut down." Maura
isn't looking at her. "What?" Jane's voice is rising in volume. "We could have gone
together! You would have gotten a job. You're the best aren't you? The FBI would have
taken you, you know that!" Maura's silence is making her furious. "You wouldn't even
think about moving for me. Giving up your job for me? There are other positions, Maur!
Okay, fine!" she threw up her hands in frustration. "So you didn't want to leave your job.
I get it okay. We were both just as married to our work. But you were the one," she
pointed an accusing finger at the other woman, "who said long distance wouldn't
work. You were the one who wouldn't even try."

"Jane," it's soft.

"No. You know, I didn't understand it for a long time afterwards, but then one day I
figured it out," Jane took a step forward. "Ian," and Maura shifts at the name. "You felt
like if I left, it would be just like Ian. Fucking Ian. But, I've got news for you Maur,"
Jane is yelling now and she is sure that her entire family can hear them. She doesn't
care. "I am not him. I wasn't him. I loved you," and her voice breaks on the word. "I
loved you. And we could have made it work. I wasn't going to Africa, Maura," and Jane
sighs. "You could have come with me. Or you could have stayed here, because here is
home and here is where you were happy. And that would have been fine. We would
have made it work. Because-Because I loved you," and there it is again. That word. "But
instead, you wouldn't listen, wouldn't talk, wouldn't consider it." Jane can't continue. She
is having trouble breathing, and she can feel the lump in her throat, the burning
sensation behind her eyes that signals tears.

Maura is crying again, the tears running silently down her cheeks. She can't look at the
broken woman in front of her, the woman she forced away by her silence and inaction.
She had taken off her heels as soon as she entered her bedroom, kicked them away into
a corner. And now, she rubs her bare foot over the carpeting. She has to give
something to Jane. She has to make her understand. "I-" she licks her lips, "I was
afraid."

Jane's head snaps up at the whispered confession.

"I was afraid of the bullets, that one day, you wouldn't come home...to me."

Jane looks incredulous. "I was a homicide detective. I faced danger every single
freaking day. That was my job."

"Yes," Maura cuts her off. "Yes. It was. And you loved it. But every time you went out on
a call, every single time, I just, I would picture you after Hoyt, after yo-you shot
yourself," her voice is wavers, "after Hoyt again and Dominick an-and all the others. I
would picture you gone, that this time you wouldn't get away, wouldn't be so damn
lucky." Jane isn't interrupting. She is listening closely, trying, desperately, to understand.
"Here, in Boston, I could keep an eye on you. And you're right, I didn't want to move to
Virginia. I didn't want to leave behind a position that I had worked so hard for, that I
was comfortable in. But I couldn't stand to keep you from succeeding, from moving up.
And I couldn't stand not to be there, not to be able to look after you, not to be able to
hold you in my arms after a terrible day and know that you were safe, and we were
together," Maura is looking down at her empty arms as though she is confused. And
Jane lets out a sob at the confession. "Having you here, I could...look after you...in my
own way. And you had your team. Barry, and Sergeant Korsak."

"I have a team in Virginia," Jane finally speaks. "A good team."

"Yes, alright. I get it," and Jane is surprised by Maura's volume. "It was an irrational
fear, a ridiculous one. But I didn't want to lose you."

Jane stares at you. "Well. You lost me anyway."

Silence. It was the truth. And it wasn't because of one of them alone. They both had a
hand in it, in the breaking apart, the falling away. Jane had gone, had almost fled, but
Maura hadn't fought back, she hadn't given any sign that she wanted to work it out.
They had used smaller fights, about kids and family and jobs, but really, it had all been
about fear. And Jane finally understood, she finally got it, and it was heartbreaking.

They are only separated by five feet of flooring, but it feels like miles, like a chasm has
opened between the two and they are standing on opposite ledges, staring across the
vast open space between them. Jane watches Maura and Maura watches Jane. Finally,
the doctor seems to summon some wellspring of strength and she takes a step into the
void, and then another and another until she is standing directly in front of Jane,
floating on air, supported only by her own will. Jane can't move, can't breathe.

"They told me, you know. Of course, they had to," Maura's tone is light, conversational,
but Jane can feel the tension rolling off of her small body, knows that the doctor is
holding herself tightly in check.

"That second year. And once your mother left, Barry and Vince had no choice but to
inform me." Maura reaches out a trembling hand and lightly strokes Jane's abdomen in
the place where she shot herself so long ago. That had been a horrible day. She'd put a
bullet through herself in order to stop a dirty cop, in order to give the paramedics time
to get to Frankie, to save his in life. She shot herself to save her family. To save
Frankie, and Maura. Jane doesn't dare move, while Maura's long fingers run over the
fabric of her sweater gently. And then, she moves her hand away and up, pausing,
suspended in the air, several inches above Jane's heart. Jane looks down and then back
up at Maura, and she gives her permission, silently.

The blonde moves the final distance and places her hand gently down. Jane can feel the
heat of Maura's palm through her shirt. Both woman gasp at the contact. Maura is
fixated on the place, but Jane is looking away, towards the window, trying not to think.
No one has touched it. Not ever. Not since a man put a bullet there, just missing her
heart, leaving her barely alive. It's been eight years, and no one has seen the scar
except for her mother and her doctor. And now, the only thing separating Maura Isles
from the truth, from the closest Jane has ever been to death, is a thin layer of clothing.
Jane can hardly focus, but then Maura begins to speak again, quietly, her soothing
voice flowing between them.

"When Vince told me, I thought I was dreaming. It was worse than that day a the
precinct. So much worse, because I wanted to run to you as I'd done that day, to touch
you, feel you, see your chest rise and fall. But you were 300 miles away," Maura breaks
off, composes herself, and continues. "So, I got on a plane, and I went to Virginia." Jane
jerks her gaze from the window and turns her eyes to Maura. The doctor's hazel eyes
are shiny with tears, and she is pleading with Jane. "I made it all the way to that waiting
room before I realized that you wouldn't want me there. You walked away and I had let
you go. You promised me that we could make it work, but I didn't believe you, and now,
I would have to pay for it. It was my worst nightmare come to life, Jay, and I had to
turn around and walk back out that door and let it consume me. You were fighting for
your life, but I was the coward. The woman who couldn't bear to see the person sh-she
loved suffering. I'd seen you like that before, and I couldn't stand to see it again. I
wanted to remember you the way you were before, vibrant. So full of life and energy."
The doctor has forced the words out, quickly, painfully. She is still staring at her hand
resting on Jane's chest, watching it rise and fall in time to the agent's breathing. "You
were never still, and sometimes it drove me crazy, but I loved that about you," she says
fondly. "You were passionate, headstrong, independent, alive."

"But," she finally continues, "I spoke with her mother every day. She kept me apprised of
your condition. Those months while she was with you, she always called. I just, I
couldn't, Jay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" And Maura begins to sob, loud, heaving sobs. The
tears rack her tiny frame and she curls around herself, never removing her hand.

Jane knows that it is her turn to respond, she has the floor. But she can't fathom it, can't
make sense of the fact that Maura had come to Virginia, had been so close. She wants
to take the sobbing woman in her arms and reassure her that feeling fear is not
weakness. That Jane Rizzoli is afraid every damn day. That fear can protect you, keep
you safe, but that it can also destroy you, just at it destroyed them. Her body is
vibrating with the need to protect the small woman in front of her, humming with
desire, with emotion, but, she takes a step back and Maura's hand falls away.
Her brain is refusing to allow her to-t-to feel. She is suspended in a state of shock.
Maura was there. She was in the same building. So freaking close! But, she'd left. She'd
been the one to walk away.

"Please, Jay. I'm sorry," Maura is taking deep breaths, trying to regain the control she
always strives for. "I wanted you to be happy. To get better and move on."

"Move on?" her rough has dropped an octave. "Move on? I spent a year behind a desk
because of that shot. A year of my life stapling and filing paperwork because of that
shot. They offered me retirement, full benefits. But all I could think of was running back
to Boston with my tail between my legs and how disappointed you would have been in
me. To see me fail. So I spent a year being patient, putting up with everybody else's
crap, physical therapy, fricken counseling. And the whole time, the whole time," Jane is
shouting again, her raspy voice loud in her ears, "the whole time, I'm telling myself,
what would Maura say? Hmmm. I pictured you in my head, the way it was after Bobby,
telling me to get off the couch, get my shit together." Jane can't stand to look at Maura
anymore, so she turns away, and that is when she is reminded of where they are, her
gaze lands on the bed, their bed.

She knows that Maura has seen other people, slept with them. Men, women. She would
force Frost to tell her about them all, and then she'd run checks on them, keeping tabs.
There weren't many, really. It slips out before she can get a handle on it, shove the
thought away, back down deep inside herself, "You were probably too busy fucking
someone else. Moving on, being "happy." Right? Isn't that right?" It's a horrible
statement. And she wants to sink into the floor as soon as it leaves her lips. She doesn't
know when she became this horrible, angry person. She doesn't know how to stop.

"Jay."

"Well so did I," she spins around and glares at Maura, challenging the other woman. "I
fucked them," and the doctor flinches at the unfeeling tone. "But I never, I never let
them touch me," Jane is shaking. "I never let them touch me," and now she is the one
breaking down as it washes over her, the realization that she has become this person,
lonely, and broken. She used to be strong. To be tough. She doesn't recognize who she
has become. "I never let them touch me. I pretended they were you. All of them. I
fucked them and I pretended that I was fucking you. And then I made them leave, and I
never let them touch me." she can't stop saying it. "And each time, I felt so-s-so
unclean," she is staring at her hands now as though they are not her own, alien. "So
dirty. I used them. Pretended they were you because I needed you, and then I made
them leave. They never touched me."

"Jay," she is afraid to see the pity there. Maura steps forward and lifts her chin gently
so that they are face to face. It isn't pity, and she is so relieved. Simply sadness. "Oh,
Jay."

Suddenly, Jane has crashed her lips into Maura's, she is pushing and pushing, and at
first, Maura doesn't move, but then she is pushing back just as fiercely. And her hands
are wrapped in Jane's dark curls and she is tugging the detective closer. Their lips are
battling for dominance, unyielding. All Jane knows is Maura's lips rough on her own, all
she can taste and feel is Maura. She forces her tongue between the other woman's lips,
and Maura takes it greedily. The doctor bites Jane's lower lip and the agent hisses in
response, and the doctor doesn't take the time to soothe the burn, simply continues
pushing. Jane's hands come up to rest on the doctor's hips, and she pulls her mouth
away for air, kissing down the doctor's throat hungrily, wetly. She finds Maura's pulse
point and sucks. The blonde moans and pulls the agent's air until Jane returns to eye
level, crashing their lips together once more. They are spinning out of control. Jane
doesn't know if it is ten minutes or ten years, but eventually, Maura pulls back and
breaks apart, and they stand, panting, foreheads resting against one another.
Maura frees her hands from Jane's hair and moves to sit down on the floor, resting her
back against the foot of the bed. Jane licks her swollen lips, and runs her fingers
through her snarled curls. She slides down so that she is too is resting back against the
bed, the side though, separated from the doctor, and still breathing heavily, unsure what
to do. They sit that way in silence for many long moments, and the tension bleeds out
of the air, leaving behind two women, unsure how to continue, what it all means. Jane
shifts, smelling her own arousal in the air. She should be embarrassed, but she isn't.

Maura is picking at the carpeting at the corner of the bed, her hand is the only thing
Jane can see, so she reaches out and covers it with her own, effectively calming the
doctor.

"What now?" Maura speaks first.

Jane shrugs and then realizes that the ME can't see her. She debates for a minute, then
says, "They offered me Boston."

"What does that mean?"

"Right before I left. They offered me the supervisory position at the Boston field
office." Maura turns her hand over so they are palm to palm and threads her fingers
with the agent's. "It would be less action. More paperwork. A promotion."

"Are you going to take it?"

Jane sighs, "I don't know. I haven't told Ma or the guys yet."

"What do you want to do?"

"Boston is my home, Maur," Jane admits softly and Maura squeezes her hand in
response. "I don't know. I have to tell them when I get back, before the new year. But, I
don't know."

They lapse back into a comfortable silence. Something has shifted in the past hour.
Jane doesn't exactly understand how it happened, but she's done fighting it. Finally, the
agent lets go and stands up, looking down at the figure on the floor. "We should go
back downstairs. Show them that we haven't killed each other," she offers Maura a
smile, a white flag, and the ME takes it, smiling back.

"Alright," Jane gives her a hand, and the doctor rises gracefully to her feet. Jane's
handle is on the door knob, when Maura whispers her name.

Before either of them know what is happening, Jane has flipped them and is pressing
Maura against the door. She kisses her once, gently, trying to memorize the feeling,
storing it away for later. "I don't know," she whispers, and Maura nods in understanding,
then slips out from between Jane's arms and opens the door. She flits down the stairs,
leaving Jane behind to straighten herself up, dust herself off, before rejoining the party.
She doesn't know. She just doesn't know.

"Agent Rizzoli! They told us you might be dropping by."

"Good morning, sir. I was hoping to get a look around while I'm in town, if it isn't any
trouble?"

"Of course not. I'll have Johnson here give you a tour and then we can talk in my
office."
"Thank you, sir."

"Not to worry. No problem at all. Oh, and Rizzoli!"

"Sir?"

"We do hope you'll be joining us up here in Boston."

"I'm keeping my options open, sir."

"Yes. Well, when do you have to decide?"

"By the first of the year, sir."

"Excellent. I'll see you in my office, shortly."

"Yes, sir."

Jane feels as though she is flying. For the first time in years, she feels like she did all
those times when she was a kid. The wind is whipping at her face, and the snow is
getting in her nose and mouth. She should close her eyes, but she doesn't want to,
doesn't want to miss anything. There are tears running down her cheeks, freezing before
they hit her chin, but it's wonderful. She tugs the rope slightly, turning the front of her
sled a bit to the left, steering around a mini-jump that some boys have constructed. She
hasn't been sledding since TJ was small enough to sit on her lap. She opens her mouth
and lets out a Whoop! of excitement and utter joy. This is how winter is meant to be
enjoyed: braving the cold for the thrill of the hill. It is completely freeing.

She spent the morning at the FBI Boston Field Office, being led around by some
underling agent and speaking with the interim Supervisory Chief. It was intense and
somewhat stressful, but she has a better idea of what her duties would be if she were to
take the position. She feels better prepared to make that decision. Not that she has any
idea what the right choice would be. No idea at all. So, when Annie came by her
mother's house that afternoon and begged Jane to join her and Maura in a sledding
adventure, how could the agent refuse?

She wasn't sure how it would go, just her, the munchkin, and the woman she
loved...loves? Has a past with, a history. The woman she basically jumped the night
before in their old bedroom. The woman she spent the rest of the evening, through
dessert and Christmas caroling and an impromptu game of charades, staring at, but not
speaking to because she didn't know. She just didn't know.

Her mother had tried to corner her multiple times throughout the rest of the evening,
but Jane always managed to get away, usually with some help from Korsak or her niece
and nephew, for which she was extremely grateful. And she'd left early, leaving Frankie
to drive their mother home after the party, pretending sleep when Angela poked her
head into the guest bedroom. It was easier that way. She didn't know if the meddling
woman had succeeded in getting anything out of Maura, but she doubted it. The honey
blonde could be surprisingly close-mouthed when she wanted to be. Jane was still
trying to process what had happened in that bedroom; she definitely wasn't ready to
hash it out with her mother of all people.

She kissed Maura. Yelled at her, told her things Jane swore she would never share with
anyone. She'd finally figured out, at least in part, what went wrong all those years ago.
And then she'd kissed the medical examiner, and Maura had kissed her back. What. The.
Hell. And, to top it all off, she'd told Maura about the new job offer. Shit.

So, she wasn't exactly confident in the plan for the afternoon when she learned that it
was just going to be her, a six year old, Maura, and a sledding hill. But, so far, it had
been surprisingly chill. Annie, completely oblivious to past events and the night before,
did wonders for keeping both adults relaxed and laughing. She must have inherited that
charm directly from Tommy, Jane mused.

With a whooshing spray of snow, Jane came to a stop at the base of the hill, Annie not
far behind. "Winner!" Jane threw her hands up in the air in delight.

"You cheated," Annie pouted.

"Did not, munchkin. Guess you're just not used to racing the champ!" Jane couldn't help
rubbing it in a bit even if the girl was only 6.

"Amie?" the girl said petulantly, turning to the honey blonde who was wrapped in a red
pea coat, sitting on a nearby picnic table.

"Sorry, sweet girl, but I think Jay took that one," she and Jane exchanged a grin.

"Awww man."

"C'mon, nugget," Jane urged playfully. "Let's go again."

"Can we all go on this one?" her niece requested with a pout.

"Ooo, I don't know about that," Jane responded. "That'd be up to Amie," she gave the
medical examiner an evil smirk.

"Do you think we would all be able to fit," Maura asked doubtfully, indicating the long
green sled Jane had been using.

"Sure we would," Annie waved the question away, her little mind not really worried
about measurements and space, but Maura still looked unsure. "One run. Please, please,
please!"

Maura looked between the two girls, and finally nodded. "Yes!" Annie shouted, pumping
a fist in the air and taking off for the top of the hill.

"Hey, you! What about the sled?" Jane called after her retreating figure.

"Last one there's a rotten egg," was all she received in return, so she scowled good
naturedly and picked up the lead rope, tugging the green toboggan behind her up the
slope, Maura trailing behind.

Once at the top, Annie plopped down happily in the front while Jane held the sled
steady. "After you," she indicated and Maura sat gingerly down behind the girl, Annie
sitting almost completely in her lap. Jane took a deep breath. This was about get to a
little awkward. She took a seat behind Maura, holding them in place with her hands in
the snow. Her legs were sticking out to the sides of the sled, and, seemingly without
thinking about it, Maura reached out and pulled them around herself, holding them
tightly to her body. Jane started a little at the sudden contact, but didn't pull away.
"Are we ready?" she asked instead, throwing her voice forward so Annie could hear her
over the wind.

"Ready!" Annie called gayly back.

"Here we go then," and Jane started pushing them forward, over the lip of the hill. They
hung there for a moment, suspended on the cusp and then the sled plunged forward
and they were falling, flying, gliding along over the snow. Jane could hear Annie
laughing up front, but Maura was silent. Her grip on Jane's legs tightened. Jane let out
a yell of enthusiasm, and automatically wrapped her arms around the blonde's waist for
stability. They whipped past a straggling line of kids making their ways up the hill,
causing them to become a blur. Jane saw the bump right before they hit it, and her
muscles tightened reflexively in preparation for impact.

"Bail!" Annie shouted, but it was too late; the sled was already skidding out of control,
dumping them all unceremoniously into the snow.

Jane tumbled end over end, snow filling her mouth, her mittens, and going down the
back of her coat. When she finally thumped to a stop with an "Oomph," she laid still for
a moment, taking stock. No missing pieces, everything seemed to be in working order.
It was then that she realized that she was resting on something soft and squishy and
warm. She turned her head slightly and was met with a head of blonde curls. She raised
herself up on her forearms to find that Maura had broken her fall.

"Maur?" she asked worriedly.

Thankfully, the doctor turned her head and met Jane's gaze. "Hey," she said softly.

Jane let out an uncharacteristic giggle, suddenly reminded that they were pressed front
to front, no space separating them, and she felt heat rush to her cheeks.

"You okay?"

The doctor nodded and then moaned a bit. "I may have hit my head on impact. Perhaps
whiplash," she suggested.

"Let me see," Jane pulled off a mitten with her teeth and then reached to the back of
Maura's skull, feeling gently for any bumps. "Nada," Jane said. "You're still in one piece."

"Thank you," Maura breathed.

Jane found herself staring at the doctor's lips. She jerked her eyes upward, back to
meet Maura's hazel ones, which she could have sworn were not normally that dark.

"Thank you," Jane emphasized, "for breaking my fall."

"Any time," the blonde responded.

Jane was going to kiss her. Unless she got her ass up and put some space between the
two of them immediately. She wasn't going to be able to control herself, not when
Maura was staring at her almost hungrily. Would that be such a bad thing? she
wondered idly. They'd kissed the night before. And it had been...great. So would it be
such a terrible thing to just lean forward, close that slight distance between the two of
them, take Maura's lips in her own? She reached forward and brushed a stray strand of
hair off the doctor's forehead. Yes. Yes, it definitely would. Jane scrambled off the
smaller woman, but stayed close enough to help Maura sit up if she needed it.
"You guys okay?" Came Annie's high pitched voice from further down the hill.

"Yes, we're alright, honey!" Maura called back, turning to look back at Jane. "Are you
okay?"

"Me?" Jane asked, trying to ignore the fact that Maura's eyes still hadn't returned to
their normal color. "Yeah, I'm good." In order to prove her point, she stood and brushed
herself off, reaching out a hand to help Maura up when she was finished. The snow was
clinging to the doctor's coat and hat, and her hair was a tangled mass of wet snow and
ice crystals. She looked lovely, and Jane had to hold in a sigh.

They were staring at one another again. "I'm cold!" Annie shouted.

"Hot chocolate?" Jane asked Maura hopefully, and the doctor nodded in agreement.
"Should we call it a day, kiddo? How's hot cocoa sound?" Jane loudly asked her niece,
making her way down the slippery slope, retrieving the sled from where it had landed.

"Yummy!" Annie agreed, leading the way back towards the car, leaving the two adults to
trail in her wake.

Jane waited until Maura caught up with her. "Sorry we tipped," she apologized shyly.

"Oh it wasn't your fault, Jane. The speed at which we were traveling and the angle at
which we hit that bump necessitated a change in velocity. It just so happened that we
were unfortunately ejected."

Jane laughed. "Right. Okay, Doc."

Maura smiled back at her.

It felt good to tease Maura again without feeling guilty or mean. It felt ... normal.

They stopped off at a little coffee shop down the road and Jane ran in to grab them all
hot cocoas, then Maura drove them back to Angela's house. Jane peered out the car
window as they pulled up. It was starting to get dark, and the Christmas lights on all the
houses were being turned on. Jane noticed Angela's car in the driveway. The woman
must have left the café early in order to get the house ready for the third Rizzoli family
dinner in a row.

"Thanks for the hot chocolate and sledding, Amie!" Annie called from the backseat, as
she hopped out into the snow bank.

"You're welcome!" Maura called back, laughing as the young girl took off for the warm
house. "See you on Wednesday!"

"Yeah, thanks," Jane agreed with her niece.

"Of course," Maura nodded.

"Are you coming in?" Jane indicated the house.

"I don't know," Maura frowned thoughtfully.

"C'mon," Jane waggled her eyebrows, "Another Rizzoli family dinner. How could you
refuse?"
Maura laughed and shrugged. "I should head home."

Jane glanced out the window, "Oh. Okay." She was strangely disappointed, but she
didn't know how to tell Maura, or if she was even allowed to.

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" Maura asked suddenly.

"Eleven, I think," Jane said, eager for a reason to keep the conversation going. "Why?
Are you - are you thinking about coming to see me off?" she tried to say it offhandedly.

"I have to work," the medical examiner looked disappointed.

"Oh. Right," Jane felt the same.

"Well, I-"

"Have you decided? About the job?" Maura cut her off.

Jane fiddled with her hands, "No, not really. I stopped by this morning, but I haven't
told my mother yet. I'm not sure if I will."

"Oh?"

"I mean, if I don't take it, what's the point in getting her hopes up. Right?"

"I suppose," the blonde didn't sound all that convinced.

"It's a big decision," Jane hastened to add. "I'm just trying to think through it."

"Right."

It was awkward now. Tense.

"So...dinner?" Jane asked, trying to break the tension.

"I-" but just then, Maura's cell phone rang. She lifted it to her ear with an apologetic
frown in Jane's direction. "Dr. Isles? Yes, of course. I'll be there shortly. Yes. Thank
you." She hung up.

"Duty calls?" Jane asked, trying to inject nonchalance into her tone.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Jane."

The agent waved her off, "Don't be. I get it." She opened the door and stepped out into
the gathering darkness, needing to distance herself from the medical examiner. "Well,
thanks for the afternoon. I had fun."

"Me, too," Maura responded, giving the brunette a small smile. "So, I'll see you..." It was
almost a question.

"I'll see you around," Jane decided was the safest response.

"Happy holidays, Jane."

"You too, Maur. Drive safe."

"Safely," Maura corrected and then she put a hand over her mouth in embarrassment,
but Jane merely grinned at her.

"Safely," she agreed, and then she was slamming the door and stepping back onto the
curb and giving a wave as Maura's Prius disappeared down the street. Her hand
dropped back to her side as the blue car turned the corner. She felt strangely
melancholy all of a sudden, almost as if she had just missed something, an unknown
possibility had slipped out of her grasp before she realized it was even there in the first
place. It was a strange sensation, and it almost makes her want to cry, but she doesn't
really understand why. Sighing, she turns and trudges towards the house. Only one more
night and then she's heading back to Virginia, back to work and her empty apartment,
away from the Boston snow, and her loud, overbearing family, away from a certain
blonde ME.

The entire vacation has felt somewhat surreal. Coming back after being away for so
long, but everything just kind of picking up where it left off. It was strange the way that
happened, Jane mused. You could be gone from a place for months, years even, you
could daydream about it and ache to be back there, you could imagine just the way it
was and all the possible ways it could have changed. And then, suddenly, you're back
and it's as if you never left and all that time you spent missing home just seems to
disappear. Kids grow up, addresses change, your favorite coffee shop closes, but it still
feels like home, like you never went away in the first place. She doesn't understand it,
and she can't really fathom heading back to her job now. She can remember what it felt
like to be there, to aways be working, to be lonely, but it was a distant memory, far
removed from what she has been experiencing over the past several days. It shocked
her how easy it had been to fall back into her old life.

Even seeing Maura again hadn't been as terrible as she'd been imagining. Sure, it had
been hard, and confusing as hell, what with the kissing and everything. But they'd
talked...and yelled...and seemed to have reached some sort of truce. And that was great.
It felt good to set some of those old hurts to rest. At the same time, however, seeing
the ME again had reawakened feelings and emotions that Jane had been struggling to
bury for ten years. Feelings that she had sworn she no longer possessed. Attractions
and desires that she had satiated with random sexual encounters with faceless,
nameless people so that they wouldn't consume her. But that were now resurfacing and
threatening to drive her just a little bit crazy. It was time to go south again, she
decided. Maura was muddling her brain, causing her to think insane thoughts, to want
things, a life, that she couldn't have.

Yes, Jane squared her shoulders and straightened her spine, it was time to head back.
But she couldn't silence the little voice in her head that was disappointed that Maura
had been called to a crime scene, that was crying for Jane to ask the doctor to come to
the airport tomorrow, just so she could see her one last time.

She tried to keep her mind off the hazel eyes and blonde hair. All through dinner she
tried. Tommy had to keep nudging her whenever her mother asked her a question,
because she was so lost in her thoughts. In her daydreams. In her own head. Frankie
was giving her strange looks and even Lydia seemed to notice that something was off
with the agent.

"Are you alright, Janie?" Angela Rizzoli asked her daughter after her other two children
had gone home, taking her grandkids with them. They were doing the dishes again:
Angela washing, Jane drying. "Jane?" she prompted when the younger woman didn't
respond right away.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine, ma."

Her mother gave her a searching look. "I'm sorry Maura couldn't come to dinner. She
said she got called into work."

"Maura? What?" Jane almost dropped the plate she was holding. "No, I get it. It's cool.
I don't care."

"Right," for some reason Angela didn't sound convinced. But, she decided to drop it.
"I'm so sorry you couldn't stay longer. Three days is hardly enough."

"Gotta get back, ma."

"I know that. I just miss having you here."

Jane gave her mother a rare one-armed hug. "I know, me too." She debated about
bringing up the job offer, but chose not to. Like she'd told Maura earlier, it was better
that her mother not get her hopes up only to be disappointed later on. She surveyed
their work and then heaved a sigh. "I think I'm going to go up to bed," she said,
glancing at the clock. "Gotta get up early tomorrow morning to catch my flight."

"Alright," her mother nodded. "Want me to wake you up? Frankie said he'd come over
and go with us."

"Sure. Thanks, ma," she kissed her mom on the cheek and headed for the stairs. "I'll see
you in the morning."

"Good night, Janie."

"Night."

"I love you!"

Normally, Jane wouldn't answer. It wasn't that she didn't love her mother, she just didn't
express it very often, but tonight, she smiled over her shoulder, "Love you, too."

It was fully dark when she jerked awake. She glanced over at the clock. Three AM. Why
was she suddenly up at 3 AM. She hadn't had a nightmare. Wait, there it was again, a
noise from outside, and - was that her phone? Groaning, Jane sat up and swung her
legs over the side of the bed, shivering when her bare feet made contact with the cold
wood floor.

She grabbed her phone off the dresser. 1 new text message. It's from a number that her
phone doesn't recognize, but she does. She's had it memorized for years, even after she
deleted it from her contacts list.

Can you come outside? it says. And there's that noise again, the sound of snow
crunching underfoot out on the porch.

Jane pulls a sweatshirt on over her old Red Sox sleep shirt and opens the bedroom
door. She makes her way downstairs quietly, skipping the seventh step because it
squeaks. She flipps on the porch light, runs a long fingered hand through her sleep-
mussed curls, grips the knob tightly, and opens the front door. Dr. Maura Isles is
standing in front of her in nothing but flannel pajamas and boots, her cheeks are red
from the cold and her eyes are shining in the Christmas lights.
"Maur, what-"

But Jane is cut off when Maura's cold lips find hers. The kiss is questioning, pleading.
The blonde is seeking permission. Jane doesn't respond immediately, her sleep addled
brain taking a moment to remind her that yes, she is awake. This is not a dream. And
then she is kissing Maura back. It isn't hard and fast like the day before, instead soft,
hesitant, cautionary. Jane can still taste the mint from Maura's toothpaste. She can feel
the cold, but it is merely an annoyance. The doctor is shivering though in just her
pajamas, so Jane steps backward, leading her into the house and pulling the door
closed behind them, never once breaking their kiss. She bumps into the stair railing,
and almost trips on the first step. The blonde disengages to take a breath, and Jane
takes the opportunity to turn, her hand finding the doctor's cold one, and lead them up
the steps, and towards the guest bedroom. She listens closely for any sign that her
mother has been alerted to their visitor; the house is still.

The lights are still off, and Maura is trailing closely behind her. Neither woman speaks.
Jane feels like she is sleepwalking, like any moment she'll wake up alone in her bed, and
this will all have simply been another dream. But, she doesn't, and when the bedroom
door shuts behind them, Maura is immediately back in her arms. They are kissing
gently, longingly. Jane is allowing herself the time to become reacquainted with Maura's
unique taste, with the way they seem to fit so perfectly together, the way their
movements are practically synchronized. She pulls away for air.

"Okay?" Maura asks so quietly Jane almost misses it.

"Yes," and then her lips find Maura's pulse point and she is sucking gently, eliciting a
gasp from the blonde that sends a shiver up Jane's spine. She feels her own heart rate
increase in response. Maura tugs on her curls, and Jane returns to eye level.

The doctor walks them forwards until Jane's knees hit the bed and she sits
automatically. Before she really knows what's happening, they are lying in bed together,
and Maura has her hands wrapped in Jane's hair, her leg between Jane's, pressing on
her center, where she can feel her own arousal pooling. And then she can no longer
think, simply feel, because she is kissing Maura, and Maura is kissing her back, and she
feels like she is dreaming, but she isn't and it's all too wonderful for words.

Jane is running her hands along Maura's back, familiarizing herself with the doctor's
new curves, loving the way her touch causes Maura to squirm slightly in delight. She
reaches the hem of Maura's pajama top, pauses, and then slips beneath the fabric. Her
cold hands in contact with the doctor's warm skin is intoxicating. She runs her hands
lightly up Maura's back, tugging the shirt along with her. And finally, Maura shifts so
that Jane can pull it up, and over her head, depositing it carelessly over the edge of the
bed, reattaching their lips as soon as possible. Jane can't help the moan that escapes
her when Maura's bare front presses down onto her.

The doctor begins to untangle her hands from Jane's hair, and to make her slow way
down Jane's torso, but Jane suddenly freezes and grabs the ME's hands in her own.
Maura stops her descent, waits a moment, and then presses a light kiss on Jane's lips,
her cheek, beside her ear. "I've got you," she whispers. And, after another beat, Jane
releases her hands in understanding. Maura continues to whisper after that, I've got
you, Trust me, I'm here. Sweet nothings that Jane doesn't really register, but it isn't the
words that are important, simply the message. Whatever they are about to do, Maura
isn't going to let Jane fall. She isn't one of the faceless 'others.' She is here, and now,
and she is not going to leave the agent floundering behind.

It becomes a dance, one which they seemed to have choreographed so many years ago.
They are a bit out of practice, certain movements are hesitant, uncertain, but the other
is quick to redirect, to assist. They are not harried or rushed. They take their time.
Relearning the steps as they go, finding the places where they fit together, becoming
seamless. As perfect as you can get.

When Maura takes Jane's erect nipple in her mouth, the brunette holds in a groan of
satisfaction. And Jane draws a symphony along Maura's exposed skin, as they shed their
pants, and finally, the last layer of clothing separating them from one another. They hiss
in unison as they feel one another for the first time. It is new. But it is also achingly
familiar.

Maura places her hand gently on Jane's thigh and gives a light push, encouraging the
agent to open for her. Jane doesn't think, she merely does as the doctor has silently
asked, spreading herself trustingly. Maura runs a single finger through Jane's folds,
soaking in the agent's arousal. It is gentle. Loving. Jane gasps as Maura first makes
contact with her sensitive bundle of nerves, the doctor quickly finding a rhythm that has
Jane moving in sync. When she slips a single finger inside, Jane can already feel her
walls beginning to clench. It has been so long. So long since anyone was this gentle
with her, since anyone has touched her in this way, has been inside her, and she can
feel herself teetering on the edge. Maura pulls her finger halfway out, and then slips a
second digit inside and thrusts gently. She pulls out again, and slides deeper inside,
stroking Jane's walls gently. Jane is struggling, attempting to reign in the need coursing
through her.

"Trust me," Maura's honeyed voice reaches her through the haze surrounding her. "I'm
here, Jay."

It is enough, Jane relaxes, and immediately, she is pushed over the edge, thrown into
the abyss. She clenches tightly around Maura's fingers and throws her head back,
stifling the scream that is trying to make its way out of her tightly pressed lips. It feels
as though it lasts forever, wave after wave of pleasure pulsing through her, until finally,
she relaxes back onto the bed, conscious once again of Maura's body pressed against
hers, of the kisses Maura is laying gently across her cheeks, her nose, her lips. And it is
then that she realizes she is crying, silent tears running down her face, and Maura is
kissing them away, holding her tightly in her arms.

Jane spends several moments collecting herself, letting her heart rate return to normal
as Maura continues her loving ministrations. When she feels strong enough, she flips
them suddenly, pinning Maura beneath her. She stares into hazel eyes, more a deep
forest green now, and kisses Maura softly, then begins to make her way down the
doctor's perfect body, pressing wet kisses as she goes, tracing a single nipple, and then
the other on her way. She can practically feel the blonde vibrating with need, with want,
as she parts the blonde's silky folds with one hand and places her other on Maura's
stomach, holding her steady. She glances up once more and meets Maura's gaze with
her own. The doctor's eyes are pleading with her to appease her desire, and Jane
acquiesces, running her tongue lightly over the doctor's clit, causing Maura to jerk at
the motion.

The taste of Maura fills her, consumes her, the heady scent of the doctor's arousal is all
around her. She takes her time. Running her tongue gently over Maura's stimulated
center, enjoying the way the doctor is straining upwards, searching for more contact,
more pressure. Happily, Jane complies. And then, she takes Maura's clit completely in
her mouth and begins to suck, eliciting a series of moans from above her. She slips two
fingers into the ME's center, pushing deeper with each thrust, searching out that one
spot which she knows undo the doctor. She finds it suddenly, and Maura tightens
around her, her long legs snapping around Jane's head, freezing her in place. She waits
for the orgasm to pass, before sliding her fingers gently from the doctor and making
her way back up to Maura. Once there, she licks her fingers clean, a new wave of
arousal shooting through her at Maura's taste on her tongue.
Their lips find one another once more, working each other into another state of
readiness, of desire. Jane feels as though she is both coming undone and being place
back together in Maura's strong arms that night, pushing and pulling, and pushing and
pulling. Finding her way out of the darkness and into the light that is the doctor's
skillful fingers and beating heart. She loses track of how many times Maura has caused
her to skyrocket into ecstasy, of how many times she claims the doctor as hers. It isn't
important. She doesn't care that her mother is just down the hall, that it has been ten
long years since the two of them have shared a bed, let alone their bodies with one
another, that they have a history, a painful one. She doesn't care about any of that. All
she cares about is the feeling of Maura writhing beneath her, of Maura's hot breath on
her cheek as she comes, of Maura's perfect lips, and the way they have shifted from two
bodies, into one, one beginning where the other ends, without difficulty or confusion.
There is no pain, no hurt, simply tenderness, caring. She never wants the sun to rise
again if it means staying in that bed with with Dr. Maura Isles kissing her over and over
again, reassuring her, loving her. She never wants it to end.

But, eventually, exhaustion takes over. Sleep finds them. Jane feels herself drifting off,
her lips pressed to Maura's forehead, the blanket thrown over them haphazardly, one of
Maura's legs between her own, the doctor's hand on her shoulder, the other around her
waist, breathing together, in and out, in and out. Her last thought, as she loses
consciousness, is that this is the happiest she has ever been.

It is Maura's phone that jerks them awake. There is only a hint of pink shining through
the window, indicating that dawn is on its way. They haven't been asleep for more than
an hour. Maura scrabbles for her phone, finally finding it beside the bed on the floor
where it must have fallen out of her pajama pocket.

"Dr. Isles," she answers sleepily, but immediately jerks upright at the voice on the other
end, pulling the sheet up around herself and shivering in the cool morning air. "I see.
No, I can come in. Of course. I understand. Yes. See you soon." She ends the call and
stares down at the figure who has fallen back to sleep already. Jane's hair is splayed out
on the pillow, her pale face turned towards the doctor. Maura runs a finger down her
cheek, and Jane shifts, the blanket falling down, uncovering a bare shoulder.

"Jay."

"Mmm."

"Jay, I have to go," this causes the agent to open one chocolatey brown eye in
consternation.

Maura leans down and presses a kiss to the side of her head, and at that, Jane forces
herself awake, yawning and frowning simultaneously.

She wants to ask what last night meant, where they should go from here. But her brain
is hazy with sleep, and isn't cooperating.

"I don't regret it," Maura seems to read her mind. "Not in the slightest. It was perfect,"
and she goes to kiss the agent again, only this time, Jane turns her head at the last
moment so their lips meet.

"I'm leaving today," she gets out.

"I know." Maura nods.

"But the job offer..."

The doctor hesitates, an internal battle playing out across her delicate features. "You
need to decide what's best for you," she settles on. "Last night...I-I wasn't exactly
thinking straight. And I don't regret it!" She hastens to repeat. "But, it doesn't have to
be-that is- it doesn't have to mean-"

Jane's heart falls down into her stomach. Maura is giving her an out. Them an out. They
can pretend like last night didn't happen. Like it was just some crazy accident between
two people who used to love each other. Used to. Is that still true, Jane wonders. Used
to. She studies the doctor, Maura is biting her lip, looking nervous. Jane doesn't know
what to do. What to say. It's too much, too soon. She is overwhelmed, and so she does
the only thing she can think of. She nods. "Right."

Maura looks a bit crestfallen, or maybe that is simply the agent's mind playing tricks on
her. The doctor slides out of bed though and begins pulling on her pajamas. Jane
watches her dress silently. She should stop her, pull the doctor back into bed, kiss her
again, beg Maura to come to the airport to see her off. But she doesn't. Instead, she
lets Maura slip her boots on without interrupting, she accepts the kiss that Maura
places on her cheek and the quick hand hold they exchange.

"Have a good flight," Maura says, and Jane nods, attempting normalcy. "I'm glad you
came. For Christmas. I'm glad," and she nods again, unable to form words. "So, I'll see
you...?" Jane wishes she knew what answer to give, how to respond, what she wants to
say, but she doesn't, so instead, she nods for a third time.

She gives the doctor an encouraging smile when Maura pauses on the threshold and
looks back into the bedroom. A smile that she hopes says, "It's alright. I understand.
Go." And it seems to work, because, before she really knows what is happening, Maura
has slipped out of the room and is gone, leaving behind a woman who is once again
feeling lost.

Jane waits until she hears the front door open and close again, shakes her head to clear
it, and stands, stretching out her sore muscles. No point in going back to sleep now.
She heads for the bathroom, hoping a hot shower will calm her, will ground her. Last
night is almost a blur, a terrifying, wonderful blur. They made love. Maura touched her,
she saw her, and Jane let her. They were together, for a few hours at least, they
regained what they had lost. But, she doesn't know if it was merely some weird cosmic
joke. A last hurrah. A final goodbye. What does it mean? What does she want it to
mean. She doesn't know.

They drop her off at the airport several hours later. Her mother. Frankie. Annie and TJ.
They hug her goodbye, and her mother presses several tearful kisses to her cheek,
which Jane doesn't have to heart to shake off. Annie begs her for something 'cool' from
the FBI, and Jane promises to send a package as soon as she is able.

"We'll see you soon?" Angela asks, but Jane can only shrug. They don't know about the
job offer. She can't tell them. Not until she makes a decision. And then, only if it is a
specific decision. But first, she needs to get away. Away from her mother. Away from
her niece, who is quite possibly the cutest thing in the world, and away from Maura.
Especially Maura. She can't think when Maura is around her, is filling her mind and her
heart and her person. She needs space. This decision must be rational, logic, thought
out, not hasty and impetuous as so many of her choices are. So she shrugs and her
mother pats her cheek understandingly.

One last round of hugs. "Bye, Ma. Brother," she slaps Frankie on the shoulder. "Take
care. TJ," she gives the teenager a sarcastic smirk, "Stay out of trouble," and she is
rewarded with a half smile. Good enough. "C'mere, munchkin," and she sweeps her niece
into her arms. "You be good now, ya hear," she plays and Annie giggles in response.
"Can you do me a favor?" the six year old nods enthusiastically. "Look after Amie for
me, alright?" Jane asks quietly enough that no one else can hear. "Take her sledding
once and awhile. Think you can do that for me?"

"Sure, Auntie Jay!" Annie agrees happily.

"That's a good girl," she sets the little one back on her own two feet and takes in the
people splayed around her. "Well, I'd better get going."

"Alright. You stay safe," her mother orders.

"Will do, Ma."

"Call me when you land."

"Okay."

"And do something fun for the New Year."

"Yes, Ma."

"I love you!"

Jane waves over her shoulder to acknowledge her mother and steps into line at
security. When she looks back, her family has disappeared, melting back into the crowd
thronging Boston Logan. Just like that, she is alone again.

The flight passes smoothly, and soon, she is touching down in Quantico, Virginia,
grabbing her bag from baggage claim, and getting her car out of long-term parking. She
heads into work first, unwilling to return to her dark apartment right away, but thankful
that the office is quiet still. It's late by the time she leaves. Several hours have passed
while she caught up on emails and old paperwork, but she drags herself reluctantly to
her car and makes the quick drive to her apartment.

Her key turns in the lock and she slips inside, dropping her bags by the door and
sighing. There are still several unpacked boxes sitting in the living room, even though
she's lived in this particular place for the past five years. It's nice. Small, but nice. But
she hasn't felt the need to really move in, settle down.

She makes her way over to the fridge, navigating in the dimness by memory, and peers
inside, the bright light spilling out onto the linoleum. An expired gallon of milk, a moldy
cucumber, and a six pack of beer greet her. Right, she meant to go to the store on her
way home. Shit. She pulls out a beer and heads for the couch, kicking her boots off and
throwing her feet up onto the small table. The cool liquid slides easily down her throat,
but she barely notices. She is playing with the label, peeling it off in fits and starts
more than drinking it, her mind preoccupied with other things: Boston, her family, the
job, Maura.

Jane is only halfway through the bottle by the time it has reached room temperature, so
she rises from her sprawled position and shuffles back into the kitchen, pouring the
alcohol down the sink and pulling a fresh one out of the refrigerator. Four hours later,
the table is littered with pieces of beer label, empty bottles sit forlornly in the kitchen,
a new one, warming, unforgotten in her hand while Jane mulls over her situation. She
shifts, and sets the beer in her hand down for the first time with a definitive movement.
She's decided. Finally.

And just then, there is a knocking on the door, which jolts her out of her reverie. She
stands and heads for it, pulling it open without checking the peep hole. It's like deja vu,
except this time, the woman in front of her speaks first and hurriedly, as if she is afraid
that the agent will slam the door in her face. "I had to come because - well, I - I want
you to take the job in Boston. Or not. I guess it doesn't really matter. Even if you stay
here, even if you don't come home, because Boston is your home, I can't stand - that is,
after last night - after the last ten years... Please. I understand if you don't want to, if
you believe that opportunity has passed. But, I can't-can't lose you again. So I got on a
flight as soon as I could. I came straight down. I don't want to be alone any longer. I
don't want to feel afraid. To drive you away again. I'm sorry, Jay. I'm so sorry. And
perhaps it wouldn't work. It's been quite a long time; people change. Their characters
are shaped by events around them and perhaps we have grown in different ways,
different directions. But, I just-jus-"

Jane cut off her nervous rambling by pressing a light kiss to her lips. "I'm taking the
job."

"You are?" Maura breathed out.

"I am." And then Jane pulled her inside and kissed her again, fiercely, determinedly, and
she smiled into it, her insides glowing with happiness. This was right. It was the correct
decision. They wouldn't be able to just keep doing this, making out, making love,
without talking. But, for now, the fact that the doctor was there, that she'd come, was
enough. It was more than enough. They had a lot to discuss, a lot to decide, but they
could move forward. They had a second chance. The opportunity to try again, and Jane
wasn't going to waste it. It was, quite possibly, the most promising and wonderful
Christmas present she had ever received, and she didn't intend on letting the woman in
her arms slip away again. They would try, and it would be hard and challenging. But they
would try, and hopefully it would be enough. God, she hoped so. She really did.

AN: Merry Christmas, y'all. I wanted to wrap this puppy up for good, and I hope you
aren't disappointed. It got a little stunted there at the end, but I never imagined that
it'd be quite this long. I'll go back and edit after the hubbub of the holiday dies down,
but I wanted to post as soon as possible. I so so so appreciate all of the reviews and
follows that it received. Thank you so much for your interest and support. There will be
a final epilogue posted later today. Enjoy the holiday, and I hope y'all are spending it
with good friends and family! Love.

I literally wrote this epilogue before I'd finished the story, y'all. How much of a sap am
I?

2 Years Later

"Hello, hello!" Jane's voice echoed through the hallway as she followed her girlfriend
into the house, laden with presents.

"We're in the kitchen!" her mother called out.

A sudden thumping sound came crashing down the stairwell preceding a flying child
and a large man giving chase. "Hiya, Auntie Jane and Amie!" A brown haired blur
shouted as she shot past them.

"Merry Christmas!" Maura called after the retreating girl, laughing.

The larger figure swung to a quick stop in front of the two woman. "Welcome to the
mad house," Frankie gasped out, pecking Maura on the cheek.

Jane swatted him in the stomach, "Time to lay off the donuts, eh, Brother?"

Frankie glared at her from where he was bent over trying to catch his breath. "I'd like to
see you try and chase that kid around for an hour. Jesus. I'm not as young as I used to
be, ya know."

Jane merely let out a shout of laughter and followed the disappearing back of the
Medical Examiner. "Merry Christmas!"

"Yeah, yeah," Frankie waved her teasing off.

"Come and get me, Unk!" Came a taunting voice from deeper inside the house and Jane
shot him a devilish smirk.

"Well you heard the kid, Unk. Let's get a move on."

Frankie punched her lightly as he brushed past her. But she took it good naturedly.
Walking into the kitchen, she was overcome by all the activity. Her mother was at the
stove, checking the turkey, so focused, she didn't even notice her daughter, while Lydia
chopped up vegetables determinedly at the table. Maura had already slipped an apron
on over her Christmas dress, a stunning green number that Jane hadn't been able to
take her eyes off of as soon as Maura had descended the stairs that afternoon. Suffice
it to say, they were a bit late. The detective threw a wave at everyone, unable to resist
pecking Maura on the cheek as she slid past and into the living room, safely depositing
her load of presents under the tree.

Frankie had finally managed to capture Annie and was in the process of giving her a
severe tickling. TJ and Frost were hanging a bit of last minute mistletoe around the
window, while Sarah, baby in hand, gave directions.

"Looking good, gentlemen," Jane observed and Frost winked at her.

"Hey, Aunt Jay," TJ nodded to her. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," Jane responded, smiling up at her nephew. Somehow, he'd managed
to grow what felt like a foot in the past several months. And then she turned to Sarah
and accepted a one-armed hug from the baby-laden mother.

"Let me see this little man!" Jane cooed. She should have been disgusted with herself
for slipping so quickly into baby talk, and Maura would have been appalled; the doctor
said it messed with a baby's development on some level or something. But babies were
cute; you were supposed to talk to them like they were cute. That was the whole point.

Sarah handed him over gratefully. "He's starting to get squirmy if he stays in one pair of
arms for too long," she explained. "I can't wait for him to start walking, but at the same
time, it's terrifying."
"This kid? Mobile? I'd be scared out of my wits," Jane joked, pressing a quick kiss to
the baby's button nose. "Damn, Frost. I never thought I'd be saying this, but you make a
pretty darn cute kid."

"Don't tell him that," Sarah stage whispered. "It makes him feel all proud of himself."

"What was that?" Frost asked from his position next to the window.

"Nothing, Barry," Sarah singsonged, walking over and kissing him on the cheek.

"Mind if I steal Michael for awhile?" Jane asked. "I think the ladies in the kitchen could
use a baby break."

"He's all yours!" Sarah enthused, and went back to bossing her husband around.

"Your mommy has your poppa whipped, little man," Jane said to the kid in her arms.
"Absolutely whipped," she inhaled the sweet baby smell that still surrounded the kid and
hugged him close. "But, I guess you're pretty lucky. Your parents are cool, little dude.
Just, when it comes time for you to learn how to shoot, make sure you learn from the
best. Your Auntie Jay."

"Jane!" Maura exclaimed when the detective re-entered the kitchen. "You will not be
teaching him how to shoot a gun."

"Well, duh, Maur. Not until he's ten at least."

Maura snorted, rinsing her hands in the sink and walking over. "Let me see this guy,"
she ordered, swooping the baby up and into her capable arms. "You are so adorable!"

"Was that...a baby voice I just heard come out of your mouth, Doctor Isles?" Jane
questioned mockingly, but she grinned when Maura glared at her. "Hi, Ma," Jane turned
her attention to her mother who was muttering furiously under her breath and stirring
the gravy on the stove top.

"Oh, hello, Janie," she sounded distracted.

"Anything I can do to help?" the detective offered.

Her mother finally looked up and patted her eldest tenderly on the cheek. "Just don't
get in the way, dear."

"Ma," Jane grabbed at her heart. "I'm hurt."

"Sit, young lady," her mother gestured to a chair, "And stay out of the way."

Jane grudgingly took the seat next to Lydia and shot her sister-in-law a sheepish smile.

"Merry Christmas, Jane."

"Merry Christmas," she responded.

"Janie," her mother's sharp voice cut in. "Maura was just telling me that the two of you
aren't getting one another gifts this year. What kind of ridiculousness is that?"

"Angela," Maura started, but the matriarch cut her off.

"It's Christmas. The two of you are supposedly madly in love,"

"Maaa," Jane whined.

"You're supposed to buy each other beautiful gifts that represent your love and
devotion to one another," her mother continued, unfazed by her daughter's interruption.

"Jane and I decided to donate the money that we would have spent on one another to a
family in need instead, Angela," Maura explained. "We both felt that it was better to
give than to receive, and we have everything we could possibly want."

Jane shot her a girlfriend a grateful look when her mother looked thoughtful. "I suppose
that's a nice gesture," Angela conceded. I love you, Jane mouthed behind her mother's
turned back and Maura smiled at her. God, she looked lovely.

"Where's Tommy?" Jane forced her eyes away from the gorgeous picture that was the
ME swaying in the doorway, baby sitting contentedly on her hip.

"Oh, he'll be here soon," Lydia interjected in her breathy voice. "He got a last minute
job he had to oversee."

"And Vince should be here soon as well," her mother added.

"Coming from that menagerie of his?" Jane joked.

Her mother and her girlfriend glared at her. She shrank under the force of their stairs.

"Kidding!" She jumped up from the table, unable to sit still a minute longer when so
much energy was coursing through her. It was Christmas Eve for goodness' sake. Who
could sit still on Christmas?

"Snow ball fight!" she yelled into the living room, pleased when Frankie and Annie
immediately popped up from the floor and TJ and Frost abandoned the mistletoe,
leaving behind an annoyed looking Sarah. "C'mon, babe!" Jane called.

"The baby, Jane," Maura exclaimed.

"Here, honey," Angela bustled over and grabbed the baby out of her arms. "Go play!"

Jane certainly didn't need to be told twice and she rushed back over and grabbed her
girlfriend's arm, ignoring any protests to the contrary. "I brought your snow stuff in with
the presents. No excuses. It's tradition!" And those two magical words shut Maura up
immediately. Rizzoli family traditions were not to be trifled with. She let Jane lead her
over to the door and the two sat down on the stairs, pulling on snow pants and boots,
hats, mittens, and scarves.

Annie was done first with TJ and Frankie on her tail. The three shot out the door, with
Frankie calling over his shoulder, "Guys against girls!"

Once Maura was finally ready, Jane grabbed her glove clad hand, swinging her around
and give her a quick once over. "What?" Maura asked.

"Nothing," the brunette blushed slightly. "You're just beautiful is all."

It was Maura's turn to blush, but Jane's kiss cut her off.
"Now, c'mon. Let's go kick those boys' asses!"

"Language, Jane!" Maura squealed as they ran out the door and Jane laughed loudly and
ducked the first snowball TJ threw her way. It was Christmas alright.

Hours later, after dinner had come and gone, plates having been filled and refilled while
folks spread out around the living room, accompanied by loud exclamations of delight
over the meal. After the pies had been cut into and devoured and Jane and Maura had
finished the dishes, a task they'd taken over the past two years. After copious amounts
of wine had been polished off and everyone was feeling fat and satiated, just the way
one should feel after a perfect Christmas feast. After presents had been opened,
wrapping paper strewn, willy-nilly about the room. After thank yous and hugs had been
exchanged when gifts were discovered. After Annie had fallen asleep on her dad's lap
and the baby had been safely stowed away in the pack-n-play up in Angela's room. After
all the adults had settled down in front of the tree to reminisce about another year
come and gone, Jane slipped quietly outside, seeking a few minutes of solitude.

The brunette hugged her arms around herself at the sharpness of the cold after
spending hours in a packed, overheated house. But the chill was nice: it cooled the
warmth in her cheeks and cleared her head a bit. She walked down off the porch and
turned in a slow circle in the walkway. They were in Boston, so it was dim, but she
could still make out the stars in a clear sky of milky blackness. She closed her eyes and
let the snow flakes land gently on her upturned cheeks, taking a moment to appreciate
the quiet, all the happiness she was feeling. It should be illegal, how happy she was.
She heard the door open and close behind her, but she didn't turn around.

"It's been the perfect Christmas," she said quietly after a moment.

"It has," and Jane could hear the smile in Maura's voice. She opened her eyes and spun
to face the blonde. Maura's hat was pulled down over her ears, but she wasn't wearing a
coat, instead, she had one of the throw blankets pulled around her shoulders. Jane took
a moment simply to appreciate the stunning grace that the doctor possessed. Her curly
blonde hair fell in waves to her shoulders and her hazel eyes were sparkling in the white
Christmas lights.

Jane cocked her head when she heard the first few bars of "Have Yourself a Merry
Little Christmas" make its way out through the cracks under the door. A bark of
laughter from Frankie masked the music for a moment, but then the lyrics filtered
through once more. "It's my favorite," she nodded towards the noise.

Maura smiled at her. "I know, pretty girl."

Jane couldn't help the blush that spread across her features at the pet name. She took a
few steps closer and Maura came down off the porch so they were on the same level.
"Merry Christmas, Maur."

"Merry Christmas, Jane," Maura answered, sliding her arms around the detective's thin
frame. The two held that position for a moment before Jane started swaying them softly
to the music. Maura giggled as they slid over the ice coating the walkway.

"Do you remember the first time we danced?" Jane whispered.

Maura didn't answer, knowing there was more.

"Gosh, it must have been, what? Sixteen years ago. We were at that stupid BPD
Christmas Party and you were supposed to be on a date with what's his name. Andrew
Strickman or something."

"Strikeman," Maura corrected.

"Right, but he stood you up. The douche," Jane growled. "So you were all upset,
watching everybody else dance. And I sat there, all night, watching you, and I finally
worked up the courage to ask you to dance with me."

"I remember," Maura whispered.

"But I warned you, remember? I warned you that I couldn't dance worth sh- squat," Jane
laughed slightly at the memory. "But do you remember what you told me?"

Maura hadn't forgotten, but she wanted to hear it from Jane's point of view so she
stayed quiet.

"You looked at me with those big hazel eyes, so serious, and you said," Jane is trying to
control her giggles. "I couldn't believe it, Maura Isles, getting all philosophical, but you
said, 'Life's a dance, Jane. And I believe you're quite good at it.'" Jane pulled away and
ran a hand down Maura's cheek fondly. "It was, quite possibly the corniest thing
I'd ever heard. I mean, come on, Maur. Life's a dance? Really?"

"But you danced with me."

"I did, and I stepped on your toes the whole time," Jane pressed a kiss to Maura's pink
lips.

"I wanted to laugh at you, when you said it," she confesses. "But you looked so serious,
and so," Jane let out a sigh, "so beautiful."

Maura looked shyly down at her shoes.

"You looked so perfect," Jane reiterates, lifting the doctor's chin so they are once more
eye to eye. "Just like tonight."

"Jane," Maura's voice comes out in a whisper. There is something different in her
detective's chocolate eyes.

"I know, we said we weren't going to do presents, Maur, but Ma's right. It's Christmas,"
she is fingering something in her pocket. She looks both loving and a bit frightened. "I
was going to wait, until tomorrow, but," she pauses, lost for words. "I love you, Maur."

"I love you, too," Maura says, holding tightly to Jane's other hand.

Just then the song changed to Johnny Mathis' "I'll be Home for Christmas." "Life's a
dance, you said," Jane repeated and Maura nodded. And then, Jane was on one knee in
front of her, the snow soaking into her pant leg and she had pulled a black velvet box
out of her pocket and was holding it up to the woman above her, the small diamond
sparkling in the starlight. "Maura Isles," Jane paused, and then she grinned, "May I have
this dance?"

Silent tears were filling the doctor's eyes. "Yes," she managed. "Oh, yes."
Jane smiled up at her and slipped the ring out of it's resting place, sliding it onto
Maura's cold finger with shaking hands. The doctor pulled her back to her feet, kissing
her desperately. Whispered yeses and I love yous making their way out between warm
lips. Jane wrapped her arms around the doctor and started swaying them in place again
in time to the faint Christmas carol.

"Merry Christmas, Maur," she whispered, happier than she'd ever been.

"Merry Christmas, pretty girl. I love you."

Fin

Oh my goodness. So corny. Please someone come and gag me with my own spoon. Did
you love it? I hope so. Merry Christmas, everyone! Love.