A/N: Thank you to Ceridwyn for being gracious enough to beta this for me! It's set to be four chapters and I hope you enjoy reading it.

CHAPTER ONE

Twelve months ago...

Early evening at The Dirty Robber was busy but not overly noisy when Jane Rizzoli and Maura Isles entered and headed for their favourite booth. It was a weekly ritual for the doctor and the detective; a date night of sorts, though neither woman would verbally classify it as such. Burgers and fries were a given and Maura had long since taken to ordering an entire serving for herself, at Jane's repeated insistence, rather than steal bites from her ravenous friend.

There was an ease to these evenings that neither woman wished to give up any time soon. They laughed and joked and flirted without reservation, safe in the knowledge that, with only the two of them present, they didn't have to limit their familiarity.

Too many social occasions had involved Frost or Frankie commenting with a smirk and a wink at their obvious affinity for each other. It had tested Jane's patience; she just wanted to spend one evening a week with her best friend without her colleagues, brothers, or mother cracking wise. The teasing hadn't been mean-spirited, it never was, but one risqué comment too many and a subsequent broken toe - Jane had misjudged the distance to Frost's shin and kicked the table leg instead - had led to Jane's whiny request that she and Maura spend some regular time together. Alone.

Conversation inevitably turned to relationships. It always did, though neither was keen to hear about the other's recent dates or talk about what went wrong with their ex-boyfriends. Maura, too embarrassed about her dating history to dwell on any of it, would scowl at any mention of Dennis or Garrett or Ian. Jane, less embarrassed but more angry, had banned Casey as a discussion topic in no uncertain terms since his abrupt departure. So they talked relationships, about futures and possibilities without specifics. They shared their fantasies and desires without confirming with whom they'd like to share those dreams. They were oblivious and they liked it that way.

It was a practiced dance of avoidance; both women perfectly aware of the other and their close quarters, both happily ignoring their eventual heading and glacial speed. Neither woman would consider rocking the boat. Neither would admit even a passing attraction, as if it mattered amidst the onslaught of smouldering gazes that said everything their voices would only scoff at should it crop up outside of the repetitive teasing.

Something was bound to give eventually; something that would force the issue, jump start them, shove them, crashing into one another without their consent.

There was a sense of delicious torture. It started each time they sat opposite one another and never really ceased. Confusing thoughts of the other lingering until bedtime and mornings filled with the anticipation of their next meeting. A delicate balance had been perfected over years of working together, while their professional and personal lives had merged without premeditation until there was no discernible separation left. It was simple and uncomplicated. Best friends forever.

Maura swirled the contents of her wine glass in contemplation before taking a long sip, the bold fruit of the house red sufficiently pleasing to cause a quiet hum to slip from the blonde's throat before she spoke, gesturing with the wine glass held out towards her dark-haired companion, "I'll concede your point that each person's idea of romance varies greatly. That goes without saying."

Jane gestured with an outstretched hand, open palm waving animatedly, back across the table towards her friend, the other propped up on an elbow holding her beer bottle, "So, all I'm saying is you might get positively weepy with notions of mushy, over-the-top, vomit-inducing declarations of love and marriage but it just doesn't do it for me."

Both women leaned back into their booth seats as the waitress arrived with their regular order and placed two plates down on the table in front of them. Maura set down her wine glass and began to unfold and set a paper napkin on her lap. They continued the conversation even as the waitress placed their cutlery down from the open end of the table and turned to leave, "You can't say that, Jane. You don't know for certain."

"Yes, I do," Jane stated firmly as she applied a generous dollop of ketchup on her plate and held the bottle out to Maura who shook her head to decline.

Maura quickly nibbled a fry she had picked up with her fingers before continuing with her deconstruction of Jane's argument, "There are just too many variables to accurately predict the ideal scenario in which you would feel sufficiently emotional -"

"I'd be happy, sure. I'd probably be ecstatic..." Jane paused to pick up her burger with both hands and take a big bite. She wiggled her butt in her seat and moaned softly at the delicious mouthful before speaking again. She ignored the pursed smile and raised eyebrow on Maura's pretty face that indicated she'd prefer if Jane didn't converse whilst simultaneously devouring her bacon cheeseburger, "…But would I be squealing and bawling like some tear-stained Emma Thompson character from a Merchant Ivory flick? No!"

Maura had been slowly picking through her fries and now held one out to point at the brunette, "You can't belittle the stirring romance of Jane Austen just because you feel uncomfortable with direct sentiment, Jane. Merchant Ivory productions may seem like unrealistic fantasy to you but all fantasy is based in reality." Jane gulped down her mouthful of food and reached again for her beer, partially obstructing a teasing smile as she lifted the bottle in front of her face. Maura continued as she looked down and regarded the food on her plate. She was lost in her ramblings as she swept up more fries with one hand and continued to gesture in Jane's direction with the other, "Anyway Merchant Ivory didn't release Sense and Sensibility; you're getting confused with Remains of the Day or Howard's End, both of which were wonderful period pieces but neither had the dreamy Hugh Grant character you're thinking of."

Jane was again hoisting her burger two-handed towards her mouth when she confirmed her confusion, "Huh?-"

She took another big bite before setting her burger down and wiping her fingers on a napkin. She was hoping Maura would stay on the topic of movies rather than veer back towards the terribly unromantic hole Jane suspected she was digging for herself.

"What I mean is," Maura paused momentarily to nibble again, "it's impossible to state categorically that should the situation arise-"

"No, it's not," Jane blurted, causing Maura to look momentarily startled. The brunette softened as she spoke again, "Look… if I was overly emotional all the time maybe I could agree with you. And yes, you've seen me cry before but we agreed never to talk about that." She forced an overly stern look with a raised eyebrow and pointed an accusing, wiggling finger at Maura. The blonde chuckled lightly. "But it takes a lot to make me cry, you know. You're the… princess."

Maura tilted her head, her brows raised and a tiny smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, "Princess?"

Jane smiled widely, her head bowed downwards slightly as she rested both elbows and forearms on the table in front of her. She nodded once before lifting her attention from the table to meet the blonde's beautiful hazel eyes, her grin widening further, "Yeah, a proper girly girl, y'know? A princess."

Maura was reaching over the table, aiming several outstretched fries at the puddle of ketchup on Jane's plate as she held the other woman's burning gaze, "Would that make you a frog?" She grinned back and gave a cheeky wink as the brunette lifted an amused eyebrow.

Jane didn't miss the tiny implication of something more than platonic friendship in Maura's metaphor but didn't dwell longer than half a second on it. They were used to teasing each other just as much as they were used to hearing it from the boys. Though Jane couldn't deny a moment of curiosity, a mischievous notion that suggested she should kiss Maura and test the theory. Maura would surely laugh herself silly and then proceed to lecture Jane about the origins of folklore and fairy tales.

"Funny. Hey!" Jane lightly smacked Maura's hand away from her own plate as the blonde gasped before giggling sweetly. The smile she gave just before slipping the ketchup covered fries into her mouth made the room light up. "If anyone was going to get all girly and sob hysterically because someone shoved a diamond ring at them it'd be you, okay. I don't do romance and yet every soppy movie we watch seems to set you off."

"So you're telling me…"

"Ugh god, Maur-aaaah," Jane whined, tempted to stomp her feet under the table like a toddler. She was annoyed at herself for having a hand in starting this conversation to begin with. "Just let it go."

Maura gave Jane a pointed look that caused the brunette to sit up slightly, her back rigid, her face a mix of apology and indignation. "Humour me, Jane."

"Okay fine." Jane sighed, hunched her shoulders once more and settled back in to finish the rest of her burger. Maura would no doubt find all kinds of reasons why Jane was just as much a girly girl. It pained Jane to think of herself that way; she fought so hard to keep her emotions under control but Maura had a way of getting under her skin, getting her to admit things she wouldn't share with anyone else.

"So you're saying, even given the perfect set of circumstances, you wouldn't be suitably moved?" Maura waved her arms around in a large sweeping motion, trying to convey the enormity of everything Jane was dismissing, "No words or actions would cause you to shed a single tear as the love of your life proposed marriage and a lifetime of happiness to you?!"

Jane nodded emphatically before shaking her head just as vigorously, "Correct… and don't start with the 'happy hormone' lecture again, I can't control my serotonin levels, blah, blah, blah..."

"I've told you before, Jane, hormones don't control your emotions; it's the other way round…"

Now Jane did stomp her feet, "Maura!"

Maura shrugged then smiled sweetly before lifting both hands in surrender. Her voice rose an octave as she sang, "O-kay."

Maura was unconvinced but willing to let Jane off with her pride intact. She'd made her point. Though Jane would never admit it, the pleading look on her friend's face told her as much. It was time to let it drop, before she pushed Jane over the line from amused irritation into plain annoyance. This conversation would be stored, like so many others in Maura's impressive memory, for future reference. Maura was a romantic. As a child she'd loved Jane Austen, now as an adult she loved Jane. Her heart was filled with the hope that someday she'd show Jane just how wrong she was. Not because Maura always needed to be correct, but because she saw in Jane all the emotions that swirled inside herself. A woman that passionate couldn't possibly be as unfeeling as she made out. Maura suspected Jane's professed apathy lay in the fact that she wanted to be swept off her feet but didn't believe it was ever likely to happen.

The close friendship enabled each woman to cling to the other, providing the necessary support and assistance they would have otherwise gained from a significant other. They were prepared and satisfied to go round and round like this forever, drifting and circling endlessly. Best friends forever… until they weren't. Until someone or something came along to forcibly poke holes in their life preservers and throw them overboard, to move their physicality from brief hand holding and arm rubbing to something more.

Maura couldn't have guessed the incident would occur on her next birthday. Jane would have gambled and lost everything she owned that she wouldn't ever be the one putting that kissing theory into actual practice.

Jane reached over the table and snatched a handful of fries from Maura's plate before pointing back at Maura with the stolen foodstuffs and a smirk, "Shut up and eat your burger."