Jane stretched out on the couch, moving her legs slowly as she took a deep breath. There was a twinge of pain from her side, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. So far so good, she thought, happy that the pain was already more manageable than it had been a day and a half ago when she'd gotten out of the hospital. And she wasn't sleeping twenty hours a day anymore, either, which was a good sign, too. She settled her shoulders more comfortably against the pillow and turned on the television, flipping aimlessly through channels.

She could hear her mother moving around in the kitchen, preparing dinner for them both. She'd been Jane's shadow since the day of the shooting. At the hospital, Angela had insisted that her husband bring her fresh clothes daily, and had slept in a chair beside Jane's bed. When Jane had been discharged, they'd arrived back at Jane's apartment to find the suitcase Frank had dropped off earlier, and Angela had been there ever since, waiting on Jane hand and foot.

Normally, Jane thought, so much time with her mother would've long since driven her crazy. But Jane simply did not have the heart to fight with her mother right now. She didn't need to be a detective to know that what was going on. Angela Rizzoli was scared. Nearly losing two children to a job she'd always had misgivings about had obviously had a profound effect on both her parents, especially her mother. Before, Angela would've smothered her, lectured, interfered, badgered, and bullied Jane into doing what Angela wanted until Jane had ordered her away in frustration. Now, she was quiet and conciliatory, deferring to Jane at almost every turn, and taking great care not to provoke Jane in any way.

Jane hated it.

She understood it, but she hated it anyway. She also knew her mother well enough that, while her behavior was something borne out of genuine fear for her children, it wasn't going to last forever. And then, Jane knew, there'd be even more hell than usual to pay. A part of Jane just wanted to get that over and done with and move back to something approaching normalcy with her mother.

Jane sighed.

"What's the matter, honey?" her mother asked, walking in and sitting down in the armchair near Jane's head.

For a moment, Jane thought about lying, mumbling a quick reassurance to the other woman, and suggesting that she go home for the night. Given how accommodating Angela was being, Jane thought there was a chance it might actually work, and she'd get some alone-time.

Instead, Jane shifted to make room for her mother on the couch. "Come over where I can see you, Ma." Jane was happy to note she didn't even wince as she pulled her legs up and leaned her knees against the back of the couch.

"Dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes," Angela said patting her knee as she sat down. "Do you want to eat here or in the kitchen?"

"Lets worry about that in a minute," Jane said. "I was thinking about you, just now."

"You're wondering who I am, and what I've done with your mother," Angela said, with a laugh. Jane gaped at her. "I sometimes wonder the same thing," she added, with a chuckle.

After a moment, Jane got over her surprise, and joined in. "So am I to assume the new and improved Angela Rizzoli is temporary?"

"Are you saying you want her to be?" Angela asked playfully.

"Well," Jane said slowly. "I kinda miss my mom," Jane admitted after a slight hesitation. "And I can't believe I just said that."

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to remind you that you did often." They smiled at each other, something Jane couldn't remember doing in a long time.

Angela sobered. "It's just, people get a little crazy when the ones they love almost-" Her voice broke off, and she looked away.

Jane wanted to reach out and touch her but knew that would be just a little too much wear and tear on her abdominal muscles, even with as good as she'd been feeling. Words would have to suffice. "I know, Ma. But we're fine. We're both fine."

"Thanks to you and Maura," Angela said. She rested her hand on top of Jane's knee, obviously needing the contact.

At the mention of her friend's name, Jane sighed again and leaned back against the pillows. Sometimes it felt like her decision to shoot Bobby had changed everything and everyone. Frost and Korsak talked a good game, but she knew she'd scared the crap out of them, and they were going to be even more protective than they had been. Her mother walked on eggshells around her, at least for now. Even her father and Frankie had toned it down around her.

And then there was Maura.

Angela gave her a sympathetic look, breaking into her thoughts. "Can I ask you something?" Angela began, tentatively. "You know, before the old me returns."

Jane regarded her warily. "That depends."

Her mother seemed at a genuine loss for words for a moment, then shook her head. "You know what, now isn't the time. I need to go check on dinner."

"Now wait a minute," Jane said, reaching out a hand to catch her mother's as she tried to walk by. "Is it something I can answer quickly?"

Given her mother's demeanor, she didn't think it was, but something about her mother's expression told her this was important.

Angela made an impatient face at her. "I'll ask over dinner, how's that? Kitchen?" When Jane nodded, Angela stepped back to give her daughter room to maneuver. Jane was moving quite well on her own, but she was a little slow, and she could see her mother out of the corner of her eye resisting the urge to help her.

They moved into the kitchen, and Angela served the salad and pasta she'd made. The two ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"So ask me," Jane finally said, unable to stand it any longer and yet knowing she was going to regret it. Better just to get it over with, she thought. "If you wait until tomorrow, when you're your old self again, I probably won't give you a straight answer," Jane told her taking a bite of bread.

Angela laughed nervously at that, looking down at her plate of food. "It's funny you should put it that way," she began.

Jane stopped chewing and glared at her mother. Really? They were really going to have this conversation now? After Jane all but said she'd give a truthful answer. "That is so unfair," she grumbled.

Angela wouldn't look directly at Jane. "Jane, about Maura...and...you..." There was no mistaking her meaning.

"We're not," Jane said, perhaps too quickly. Man, she wanted a beer right now.

Angela didn't seem to hear what Jane had said. "She's been so distant," she continued. "Almost...cold. I wanted to reach out to her, while you were unconscious. I mean, she's your friend. And, because…well, in case, you know..." Angela's voice trailed off.

A part of Jane was in shock; she had never seen her mother look so nervous and uncertain when asking Jane something uncomfortably personal. Hell, Jane thought, until this moment she hadn't been sure her mother was even capable of uncertainty.

But, Jane knew what her mother meant about Maura seeming cold. Maura had visited Jane every day in the hospital, always came into the room with Frost or Korsak or her father, and stayed only for a few minutes before declaring that she had some appointment to go to, or had to get back to work. She had smiled and held Jane's hand, but the smile had not reached her eyes, which remained carefully guarded. She looked very much like the Maura Jane first met several years ago.

"Korsak told me she saw the whole thing," Jane said quietly. She had not had the physical or emotional resources to find out more about that, until now.

Angela nodded. "She had blood all over her," she said, softly. "Yours and Frankie's. She just sat in the chair in the waiting room, staring straight ahead. It was so loud. She kept closing her eyes, then opening them again."

"She was trying to mediate," Jane said.

"They came and told us you were going to make it just as your lieutenant and some of the brass came in. She just...she just got up and left, without a word."

Jane wanted to cry. She dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her face. What a mess.

Jane swallowed, the meal forgotten. "We're not," she told her mother again.

When her mother still didn't say anything, Jane hazarded a glance in her direction, a little afraid of the expression she might find on the other woman's face. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't the carefully neutral expression she saw.

"But?" Angela said expectantly.

"But, nothing!" Jane said, feeling a flash of irritation.

Angela seemed taken aback for a moment. "Well," she faltered. "Well, that's good, because I-"

"You what?" Jane challenged her.

"Would you just listen to me for once in your life, all right?" Angela said in a rush, clearly getting defensive. It was always like this with her mother. Always, Jane thought. "You have to make everything so difficult, Jane," Angela said, her voice rising until it became accusatory. "You become a police officer, a homicide detective, even! You chase down a serial killer by yourself and almost get killed by him in the process. Twice. And then you go and shoot yourself!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You hate my job," Jane said sarcastically. "We've been through this a million times. What does this have to do with anything?" Jane demanded.

"Everything!" Angela shouted! "Why do you think I keep trying to set you up all the time? I just want one part of your life that's normal, that's all."

Jane stared at her. "Normal?" Did her mother really just say that?

Angela looked sheepish. "Don't look at me like that, you know what I mean. Relationships are hard enough as it is, I should know! Your father is not any easy man to live with, let me tell you!"

"This isn't about you and Daddy," Jane admonished.

"All I'm saying is why make it harder for yourself? Can't you just have one thing in your life that isn't more difficult than it has to be, that you don't have to fight with everyone about?"

"We're not!" Jane shouted.

"But you want to," Angela said flatly.

The anger and frustration drained out of Jane instantly at those words. She was silent for a long time, feeling utterly vulnerable, hating that that emotion was written all over her face for her mother to see.

Jane slowly ran a hand through her hair, raking it back from her face. "In case no one's noticed," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "I'm recovering from a gunshot wound, here, and I do not want to have this conversation right now." She could feel tears pricking in the corner of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, not now. She was not going to let her mother do that to her.

"Do you love her, Jane?" Angela asked the question in a whisper, all the accusation gone from her voice.

Obviously, her mother wasn't going to let her off the hook now that the subject had finally been broached. Under normal circumstances, Jane would just leave. And, ironically, go over to Maura's.

"You know, I don't even know what that means," Jane said finally, rubbing her eyes in defeat. "Do I care about her? Yes. Do I want to protect her? Yes. Do I want her to be happy? Yes. But I want all those things for you, and Daddy, and Frankie, too. And hell, even Frost and Korsak."

Angela smiled. "You have a good heart, Jane," she said, taking her hand.

"It's just, Maura's not like us," she continued, managing a small smile. "She's not like anyone I've ever met, actually."

"She's a sweet girl," Angela said, nodding. "A little weird, but sweet." Jane laughed, and nodded. "And she needs you, Jane," Angela added. "I don't know very much about her, but she seems very alone."

Jane nodded again, squeezing her mother's hand. "She is."

They sat there for several minutes, silently, just holding hands. The last half hour had been an emotional roller coaster ride, and Jane was exhausted. She also knew she had a lot of thinking to do. Her mother had figured out a lot on her own, Jane realized, and this conversation had undoubtedly filled in any gaps there might have been.

There was no hiding from her feelings for Maura anymore.

"One more thing, and then I think I'm going to go home, give you some space," Angela said, finally breaking the silence. "I'm sure your father has piled every dish in the house in the sink rather than wash anything."

Jane sighed, pulling her hand away. "Is this the part where you tell me you and Daddy love me, no matter what?"

"It is," Angela said with a laugh. "And I want you to understand that I mean it, despite what I said earlier, about that kind of relationship being too difficult."

"We might just stay friends," Jane pointed out, not sure for a moment how she really felt about that. That was assuming she could get through the shell Maura had built around herself. She'd done it once before, but things were different now.

"That would be OK, too," Angela told her. "I told you once that I needed to know you were being taken care of. All I want is for whoever that is to make you happy."

"Just promise me you won't say anything to Maura," Jane said.

Angela got up, and leaned over to place a kiss in Jane's hair. "I promise," she said sincerely. "I love you, Janie" she added as she began carrying dirty dishes into the kitchen.

"I love you, too, Ma." This was how it always was with her mother, too, Jane thought. They fought all the time, but they never really stayed mad at each other for long.

Jane sat there listening to Angela move around the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, and putting away food and utensils.

Then, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. After staring at it for several minutes, she dialed Maura's number.

A/N: This is not to be confused with a much longer (and far better) story with the same title, by spoowriterfic (go read hers if you haven't). This is the first Rizzoli & Isles story I wrote, a few months after first season was over. I'd seen a lot of different takes on how the shooting might play out in season 2, and I thought I had a slightly different view of how Maura would react. I did intend to write more in this series, but kind of lost interest in it. The Beast Within, which is also posted here, could be considered a sequel to this story, however. Reviews, good or bad, are always welcome. Thank you for reading.