Well, I'm giving this a try as a "series" but I have no idea if I'll continue. I thought I had this, but it's not seeming to flow as smoothly as I would like. Not completely happy with the wrap up, but I feel like Maura still has her own issues/demons to work through. I mean, the hostage taking and so much of the shooting happened in her morgue, where she works every day. Here goes…

Maura Isles wasn't surprised when she let herself back into Jane's apartment and found her friend sprawled across the couch, meticulously cleaning her gun. Although, she might admit that she was surprised to see Jane was watching some television show with small children wearing copious amounts of make up, lace, taffeta, and rhinestones. She shifted a bag of groceries to her hip and shut the door before Jo Friday could escape into the hall. "Is that legal?" she asked, nodding toward the screen.

"Huh?" the detective looked up and winced as the spawn be-decked in an outfit that Jane was pretty sure she'd arrest someone for wearing on the street began shout at her mother about pulling her hair. "Um… yeah. Beauty pageant kids. Ma said she wanted to enter me in one of those things once." Jane scoffed at the idea. "She didn't 'cause she couldn't keep a bow in my hair. I would always hide 'em."

Maura gave her that little smile and moved toward the kitchen to put away the milk and other perishables. "Well, I can't imagine you sitting still long enough to have your hair styled and make up applied. But it's a bit of a shame, really."

Chocolate eyes rolled. "Do tell." She got scowl for her sarcasm.

"You have focus, and you're beautiful, Jane. You would have done very well… Once you got over the outfits and performing." A snort from the brunette made Maura laugh a little. "Okay, fine, it wasn't meant to be." She offered up a banana as a peace offering, silently pleased when Jane quickly began to peel and eat it. "Feeling better today?"

Jane shrugged and swallowed her mouthful. "Still kinda tired. I didn't think I'd be this tired. I thought most of it was that pain medicine, and now that I'm off of it…"

The medical examiner considered this. "You did a lot yesterday—including wrestling a man to the ground and stopping a grenade from exploding. That's a lot of adrenaline. Your body is still healing itself, even if you've been cleared to work." She rounded the corner again and followed Jane back to the couch where her friend expertly put her weapon back together and tucked it into its holster.

"I need to hit the gym this weekend. It's not gonna be pretty, is it," Jane mused.

Maura shook her head in agreement. It was curious that, honestly, Jane wasn't prideful of very many things. Although the taller woman never bragged about her athleticism, Maura had seen Jane outrun many of her very fit colleagues both in training and in the field. They hadn't run the whole Boston Marathon, but they had at least jogged most of it. Jane was going back to square one. "Well, your lungs will have to get used to working that hard again. And then you have a lot of muscle to rebuild, plus general stamina… Start slow with your walks with Jo. It'll come back."

When Jane merely shrugged and offered a quiet reply, Maura didn't press. Yes, this was definitely a touchy subject. "Hey, um, so Frankie said he'd meet me at the shooting range after lunch. You want to come, too? I mean, I need to get the practice in. I'll have to re-qualify to carry again."

Maura gave a casual nod, "Yes, maybe I can get some tips, too." It was meant to get her friend's interest, and Jane turned to her, to face her more directly.

"Wait, tips? What do you mean?"

The smaller woman straightened. "I believe I meant what I said. I've taken a class for concealed carry certification. It's ridiculous that I spend my days surrounded by law enforcement, and I don't really know how to properly handle a weapon. Well, I didn't anyway."

Dark eyes narrowed. "God, Maura, don't tell me you got a raspberry pink Ruger."

"Don't be ridiculous. That's tacky, like those rhinestones and diamond-encrusted cellular phone cases. I got a perfectly sensible Glock, I believe a similar model to yours."

Jane's eyebrows lifted. "No offense, but that doesn't sound much like you. Was it… because of what happened?"

Now it was Maura's turn to shrug. She finally met Jane's eyes and sighed. "Yes, I'm sure on many levels it was because of the shooting. Maybe I could have disabled a few of them. And what if something happens again? That night when you weren't sleeping, and you were showing me how to use your weapon … Why should I wait for something else to happen? Anyway, I know the basics now, and I have my license."

There was nothing for Jane to do but nod. It was strange to finally be waking up to what was going on around her—how everyone was still reacting to the shooting. Her parents had split, Frankie was suddenly acting more like a big brother than her little brother, and Maura was licensed for concealed carry.

Although she had not expected the morgue to look so different when she revisited it the other day, it made sense. Frankie had nearly died there, it was the last place Maura had seen Jane before she had been dragged outside. At some point, all of the shooting victims would have ended up there. Had things turned out differently, she would have ended up there. On that table. It made sense that Maura had changed things up, but this seemed like a bit of an over-reaction for her friend. Not that she was going to judge. Pushing aside the more serious thoughts, the defaulted to humor. "Well, let's go get your N.R.A. card."

Maura's lips pursed in disapproval. "I'm not Charlton Heston, yet." One hand rested over the other, and she toyed with a ring. "You're sure Frankie won't mind if I tag along?"

"No, you're not tagging along. You're family, Maura. If you weren't before all this, saving our lives sort of sealed that deal." Jane wasn't stupid enough to not realize that although medical personnel had been on scene, the SWAT team had kept them out of range of weapons. Maura had been first on scene and had managed to keep her alive long enough for the EMT crew to take over.

It earned a small smile from the medical examiner. "Sometimes the good guys win."