Nineteen Weeks

Disclaimer: I do not own Rizzoli and Isles, including the book and the TNT show; Jane Rizzoli belongs to Tess Gerritsen and Angie Harmon, and Maura Isles belongs to Tess Gerritsen and Sasha Alexander. The plot for this story is my own, but that is all I could or would stake claim to. Leave feedback if you wish; these girls are delectable, and my muse would appreciate your affirmation!

Synopsis: Companion piece to Thirteen Weeks and set somewhere in the realm of post-Rizzoli parent divorce, pre-Papa Rizzoli moves to Florida. Rated T due to snogging, mostly, and some cursing. ;) This was supposed to be a quick one-shot to satisfy my muse mid-Silent Night, but it ran far, far away with me and into almost 5,000 words. ;D Enjoy.

The bed was shaking. Well, perhaps not shaking, but trembling certainly. These facts greeted Jane immediately as she awoke, their bedroom still dark and her eyes blinking blearily. Squinting through the last dredges of sleep, Jane took in the time on the bedside alarm clock. 2:07 am. Reaching an arm out for her wife who, only hours earlier, had fallen asleep curled up into her arms, Jane found a breadth of space between them.

"Maur?" Jane's voice was hoarse with disuse and tinged with confusion. The bed continued to tremble and, belatedly, the detective realized her wife was the cause of the movement. "Oh, babe."

Maura was curled in on herself, clutching feverishly at her right calf muscle, with her face contorted with the effort of remaining silent. Several tears escaped her clutches to trail down her face, and her body shook in pain. Jane wrapped strong arms around her and pulled her back to the center of the bed, laying quick kisses over the curve of her shoulder before sitting up in bed. Pulling the covers back, the brunette gently laid cool fingers on Maura's calf next to the blonde's hands, and, despite the unchecked whimper, began to run a firm grip down the leg muscles which had tightened into knots.

"I'm sorry, beautiful. This will make it better soon." Jane continued her commentary, her voice low and rich, as her hands guided the blonde's legs straight once more, then continued to pull deeply at her muscles. Maura took a heaving breath as her calf muscles began to ease, turning her face into the pillow as her body trembled. Jane's hands were relentless, coaxing heat into her right leg and digging her fingers into the muscles of her foot. As the pain receded, Jane saw Maura's body lose some of its tension and her breathing ease. Jane rose from the bed and, flicking on the bedside lamp, rifled through their sock drawer for an old, worn pair of thick soccer socks.

"Baby, this is the third time this week." Jane pulled Maura's feet onto her lap and began working the socks over them as gently as she could. The medical examiner rolled over, her burgeoning midsection heavy on her muscles so early in the morning, and curled up once more. Jane pulled the covers back up around her tiny frame, then slid in behind her.

"I'm sorry," Maura whispered, her body wracked with a fit of trembling left over from her crying. Jane slid one arm under her wife's head and wrapped the other around her waist.

"Don't apologize. You're my wife. I want to take care of you." Maura took another ragged breath.

"I'm so tired," the blonde whimpered, pressing a fist to her eyes and making Jane's heart clench.

"I know, baby." Jane buried her free hand in Maura's hair, scratching her scalp lightly, and pressed kisses against the back of her head. "I know. I texted Frost. We'll go in late today, okay?" Maura's lack of response was almost more telling than the look of misery on her face. "Just sleep."

"I can't. I feel like shit." Jane might have laughed if she wasn't feeling so helpless. Pressing a kiss to her wife's bare shoulder, Jane slid out of bed once more. "Where are you going?" Maura choked out, her eyes wide and glittering in the dim light.

"Shh, I'm just grabbing a couple of things, okay?" Leaning down, Jane pressed a soft, warm kiss to Maura's forehead before disappearing into the bathroom. When she returned, she sat on the edge of the bed next to Maura and offered her a glass of water with two Children's Tylenol. As the blonde pulled herself up to take them, Jane moved to the small television on the dresser and popped in a familiar DVD. Turning the volume down to a low hum, the brunette retrieved two extra pillows from the closet and began stacking them against the headboard. Once there was a veritable nest of pillows, she turned off the nightstand lamp and crawled into bed.

"C'mere," she murmured to Maura, indicating that she should settle between Jane's legs, her shoulder blades against Jane's chest and her lower back supported by a light, down pillow. As the opening music for the Muppet's Christmas Carol sang gently out of the television, Jane reclined them into the pillows slightly and pulled the blankets up around her wife, covering her arms and shoulders. One hand reburied itself in Maura's hair, combing against her scalp lightly, while the other wrapped securely around Maura's ribs, holding her close. Maura let her head fall back against Jane's collarbone, her hands smoothing over her swollen abdomen.

"This feels good," she whispered, already smiling involuntarily at the interaction between Gonzo and Rizzo the Rat,

"Good. Just close your eyes." Maura's eyes fluttered shut.

"Mmm. I love you."

. . .

Jane was pretty sure the last time she'd felt this out of her element, she'd been wearing a bright pink dress with ruffles to her grandmother's house at the age of seven, choking down awful chocolate cookies and suffocating in a haze of old lady perfume. Worrying at the scars in her palms, Jane wandered aimlessly, trying to find a sign that actually meant something to her. Haut Couture. Hmm. Je T'aime Paris. Oy.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Could I assist you today." A light voice behind her made Jane start. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with a small sales associate who was smiling gently at her.

"I can only hope so," the detective responded without thinking about it, the exasperation in her voice obvious, though unintentional. Jane immediately blushed, but the young woman chuckled. Jane figured she couldn't be more than twenty-one or twenty-two years old, with pin straight, sandy blonde hair, and a genuine expression. "And please, don't call me ma'am."

"Alright. What are you looking for today, sir?" Jane grinned back at the sales associate, the tension in her shoulders easing for the first time since entering the store.

"It's Jane. And I'm actually looking for something for my wife." The detective ever-present in Jane noticed that the woman assisting her, as well as two others nearby, seemed immediately disgruntled by her wording, though she couldn't for the life of her figure out why.

"Our jewelry department is right this way," the associate began, turning to lead Jane through several racks of clothing. "I'm sure we can find something to fit the situation."

"Well, um…" The associate paused and returned her attention to Jane, who looked confused. "I was thinking more along the lines of something for her to wear. I mean, like—"

"We have an excellent selection of lingerie, as well." Jane halted abruptly.

"What? No." The sales woman turned and Jane found herself fidgeting with her hands once more. "Look, my wife is pregnant. And she's beautiful." Unknowingly, Jane's face softened and her eyes brightened. "She's so beautiful. But she feels like crap and she thinks she looks like crap, so I was just hoping that one of these God awful stores she always goes to would have, like, a maternity section or something." For a moment, the sales associate seemed to be contemplating Jane, before sticking out her hand.

"Jane? My name is Alyssa, and I think we can find just what you're looking for."

. . .

"So, all of a sudden, they're trying to pawn bracelets and thongs off on me. And I have no idea what I said!" Frankie tried to keep a straight face as his sister's hands flew up around her head and then fell back to the table, almost sloshing their coffee, but he couldn't keep the grin from spreading. "What?"

"Nothin'," he responded, taking a gulp of his steaming coffee to avoid her glare.

"You've got a shit-eating grin on your face and I wanna know why!" Jane leaned forward in her seat and hit her little brother on the bicep.

"Ow! Stop with the abuse already!" The younger Rizzoli faked pain briefly, then put his hands up in mock surrender when Jane prepared to hit him again. "Okay, okay! Look, all I'm saying is I think the sales chick was pissed because she thought you were buying a guilt gift."

"A what?"

"A guilt gift. You know, sorry I've been working too much, have some diamonds?" At Jane's continually confused expression, Frankie let out a sigh of exasperation. "She thought you had cheated, Jane." The detective's brown eyes widened in despair.

"What?" Frankie shrugged. "How? That's ludicrous!"

"What's ludicrous?" Angela Rizzoli's voice cut through Jane's shock as she refilled their coffee cups.

"Nothin', Ma." Jane and Frankie both straightened in their seats unconsciously, sworn through unwritten rule never to disclose any discussion between them which was personal in nature. Angela eyed her two children carefully, then sighed and moved on to another table. For a moment, the two siblings sat in silence, drinking their coffees almost in unison, then Jane could no longer contain her indignance.

"She thought I'd cheated!"

. . .

"What kind of an environment are you looking to outfit for?" This was the latest in a long line of incomprehensible questions from the sales associate. Jane shrugged and finally halted their trek through mountains of silk and cashmere.

"I have tickets to a show. A good show. And I'm going to make dinner at home so she doesn't have to be out of the house for more than a few hours because she's always tired after work. And I'm wearing a suit. A good one. She bought it a long time ago and I know she likes it, but it isn't going to mean anything unless she feels good about what she's wearing." Jane reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a slightly rumpled, folded piece of paper. Handing it to Alyssa, she gestured to the numbers written on it and then around at the clothing. "Those were her measurements. I stole them from her wedding planning book. And now she's nineteen weeks pregnant. So, like, I know her boobs got bigger. But everything else I need help with." Alyssa attempted to suppress a chuckle and mostly failed.

"Okay, Jane. So you're looking for an evening dress of some kind, designed for a woman in her second trimester. You might also need to look into supporting under garments and a pair of low heels." Jane nodded emphatically.

"Yeah, I forgot about the shoes. I have a list of her favorites…" Jane pulled her wallet from her pocket and began searching among the cards for another piece of paper. "Yeah, here." Proffering it to Alyssa, Jane began to feel more confident about her shopping expedition.

"Why don't you save that for the shoe department later, and we'll work on the dress first? I have a couple of ideas if you just want to settle into the couches by the waiting room. I'll bring some choices out for you." Jane glanced over at the couches she'd indicated.

"Just like that? I mean, I don't have to do anything?" The brunette shoved a hand through her thick hair. "I don't want you to have to shop for me. That's not fair." Alyssa laughed.

"Jane, that's what I am here for. Don't worry about it." Ensuring that Jane sat down and was brought a cup of coffee, Alyssa spirited away among the racks of clothing for almost twenty minutes, leaving Jane to watch as others began filtering into the store. Some of the patrons were left to comfortably shop alone, rifling through ten or twenty racks before pulling something out, holding it up to themselves and purchasing it immediately. Jane noticed that the rooms behind her seat were the only changing rooms in the store, and no one seemed to be utilizing them. Several of the women who entered were obviously well-known to the associates who moved to them immediately and began picking up clothing as they walked together. By the time Alyssa returned to her side, Jane was struggling not to imagine the likes of Maura's mother wandering around the store, her hands gesturing about her latest installation event.

"Okay, Jane. I've got a couple of things we can start with." Jane jumped to her feet and moved to take the armful of hangers from Alyssa, but the young woman waved one hand at her and unfolded a stainless steel bar from a square column where she hung the set. She took the first dress from the back of the pile and held it out for Jane to examine. "This is a piece from a new designer based in Switzerland, so it's slightly unusual. I started with bright colors because I thought it might offset a more comfort-centric design for your wife." Jane nodded, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Yeah, she likes color. But um, I don't think the, uh," Jane gestured towards a descending line of satin bows wrapping around the hips and skirt of the dress," extra stuff is gonna work for her. Too ridiculous." Alyssa grinned.

"I thought you might say that." She pulled a deep, wine red dress from the back of the rack and held it out. "What do you think about this one?" The neckline of the dress scooped invitingly, and the bodice feel loosely to the top of a pencil skirt, but Jane frowned slightly.

"I think it doesn't look like Maura." The brunette glanced up at Alyssa and shrugged. "Does that make sense?"

"Yes it does. Let's try this." The next dress seemed almost perfect. Half-sleeves of a delicate, soft lace smoothed into a silk bodice with an off-centered neckline which Jane knew would entice her with one bare collarbone. The bodice was cut smoothly and tightly, which would make it slightly dangerous in terms of fitting, but fell to a gentle skirt of soft material which would just brush the tops of Maura's knees. Jane loved it, but there was one problem.

"It's lime green," Jane commented, staring intently at the dress. Alyssa raised one eyebrow.

"Too much?"

"Oh yeah."

"Okay, well, this is similar. The color is much more muted, but depending on your wife's skin tones, it should accentuate any colored shoes or accessories." The dress Alyssa pulled from the mass of clothing almost took Jane's breath away, because she could see Maura in it, see their growing child in the soft, satin pleats across the abdomen and her increased bust supported by a Grecian v-neck and two thick, satin straps. The skirt, again, was made of a soft, flowing material, and looked as if it would just brush against the tops of her calf muscles. And the entire piece, in all of its simplicity, was a calm, muted gold, shimmering on the side of cinnamon and honey.

"It's perfect," Jane intoned, her hand pulling the material of the skirt towards her, then letting it fall away over her hand. "She likes gold. Makes her eyes look greener, or something." Alyssa grinned in achievement.

"Excellent," she commented, laying the dress carefully over one arm. "Now, shall we work with some undergarments or shoes?" Jane grinned.

"Alyssa, you might just be a miracle worker."

. . .

Maura pushed her key into the locked and turned it gently, pushing the door open and making her way inside. It was late in terms of her more recent schedule of hours at work, nearing almost four p.m., and she was exhausted, hoping to return home to find Jane for some snuggle time on the couch. When she then encountered an empty house, save the eager greeting of Jo Friday, Maura couldn't prevent a sting of disappointment from washing over her body.

"Jane?" she called out hopefully, knowing from the lack of black boots by the door and car keys on the side table, that she wouldn't receive a response. "Oh, Jo, where is Jane?" The little dog tilted her head to the side and looked up at Maura, but gave no answer. Sighing, Maura toed off her flats by the hall closet and hung her light jacket on a hanger, barely restraining herself from groaning aloud as her back muscles protested the stretch. "Goodness, Jo Friday. I feel as if I have been standing for days when I know perfectly well I was only on my feet for approximately three-point-five hours today. I am glad to be home."

Like the faithful puppy she was, Jo Friday followed her favorite (except on hot dog nights) mistress through the house as she spoke, her little tail wagging at the verbal attention she was receiving. When Maura abruptly stopped on entering the kitchen, Jo almost ran straight into the backs of her calves, and only just managed to skid around a pair of finely-boned ankles, her nails scuttling across the linoleum.

Maura had paused in her journey towards the fridge at the sight of a giant bouquet of flowers resting unobtrusively on the kitchen counter. Next to the flowers, a bowl of mixed salad had been prepared and saran wrapped, and a loaf of market-fresh Italian bread was waiting for the chef, but Maura's mind ignored them. The flowers were a wild bunch, sprayed with bursts of bright blue hyacinth, as well as delicate, yellow, gerbera daisies, baby's breath, orange and deep red roses, and a single, midnight purple lily. One hand pressed gently against her chest from the moment her breath had been taken by the sight of this gift, Maura moved towards the flowers and plucked the white card from its holder.

Maura, I know it's been a long week, and I wanted to tell you that I love you. Take a hot bath and dinner will be ready when you're done. Love you, Jane

Jo Friday yipped at her feet, and Maura realized she'd begun crying without realizing it. She squatted awkwardly to scratch down the dog's back, then pulled herself standing once again.

"It's okay, Jo Friday. My body is producing abnormally high concentrations of both estrogen and progesterone, leading to muscle fatigue, heartburn, increased levels of arousal at inappropriate instances, and emotional upheaval. Don't worry, Jane hasn't done anything wrong." Jo yipped again, as if she understood Maura joke, and the blonde chuckled in response. "Shall we go see about this bath?"

Taking the stairs more slowly than she needed to before a full day of work, Maura moved through their home with one hand resting reflexively on their child. She knew Jane had noticed that the instinctual, physiological responses of her body to their baby had already begun, though she hadn't commented, and Maura found herself loving every minute of it. Being pregnant was a dream she hadn't known she had until after Jane and her marriage, but she found herself feeling more and more confident in herself as her body prepared for their child.

She'd confessed to Jane, in the comforting darkness of their bedroom late at night, that she felt her mothering skills would be quite lacking and was hoping Jane's mother would be willing to spend quite a bit of time with them once their child was born. Jane had shot down that idea immediately, and explained, in no uncertain terms, that she felt Maura would make an amazing mother, regardless of her status as an adopted child or her relatively standoffish upbringing. If anyone was going to be around more after the baby was born, it was going to be her, and they would figure it out together. As her pregnancy progressed, Maura could feel herself become more attuned with the baby, and although she knew it to be only five to six inches long, its minute flutterings within her felt like tiny conversations.

"How did I know there would be gifts, too, Jo?" Maura asked her furry companion as she entered their bedroom and found the three white boxes lines up on their master bed. "Hello, Bass." The tortoise in question bobbed his head slowly up to glance at her, but didn't move from his place on the floor next to Jane's side of the bed. Moving further into the room towards their master bath, Maura began to unbutton her maternity slacks. She found her favorite bubble bath sitting on the tub, as well as two, thickly fluffy green towels sitting on the nearby toilet. Sighing in appreciation for her wife, Maura turned on the hot water tap and added the bubble bath before pulling her shirt off.

. . .

"I don't know how you did all of this, but I love you," Maura murmured as she made her way, barefoot, to the bottom step of the staircase from their second floor. Jane, who had been fidgeting with the table setting, whirled around and settled her gaze on her wife who was now leaning demurely against the wall.

"Hi," the brunette responded softly, her gaze raking over Maura's face for any trace of sadness or pain. "Do you like it?"

"I love it." Maura pushed away from the wall and met Jane next to the table, slipping her small hands up the sleeves of her deep green Oxford button up and wrapping them around her neck. "You amaze me." Jane chuckled as her hands found the smooth, cool fabric of the new dress as it pulled over Maura's abdomen.

"Nothin' amazing here except you," she responded, pressing her lips to the curve of Maura's nose as it swept up to delicate eyebrows. Maura hummed in appreciation and squeezed her wife tenderly. "You ready for dinner? It's simple, but spicy. And healthy."

"And healthy? Wow, you went all out." They pulled away reluctantly and Jane pushed Maura's chair in after she settled down at the table, carrying the last dishes over to where they would eat. Jane had prepared tacos and homemade guacamole with tortilla chips, remembering that Maura had begun to crave spicy foods last week and would appreciate the hints of jalapeño. They ate animatedly, discussing cases and work as well as the nursery's final pieces and Maura's mother's most recent ideas for what to name the child.

"I still think your idea of a more traditional first name with an unusual middle name is excellent," Maura commented as she scraped up the last of the guacamole with a chip. "Then he or she can choose with which name they would like to be referred to as they grow."

"Yeah, I mean, I like that Jane Elizabeth is based on my grandmother's name, but it's too plain. And you said that you often wished your name were simpler." Maura rolled her eyes.

"Try getting through boarding school with the middle name Evangelina. Awful." Jane chuckled and reached out to tuck a stray hair behind Maura's ear.

"I kinda like it, not gonna lie." Maura rolled her eyes again, but the gesture was offset by a grin she couldn't contain.

"Of course you do. You're my wife. You have to." Jane laughed out loud, her head thrown back and her curls dancing wildly around her face.

"Oh, but do I also have to do this?" Jane reached into her back pocket and pulled out a small envelope with the Ticketmaster logo printed on the outside. Maura's face lit up, and she eagerly accepted the envelope when Jane handed it to her.

"What is this?" she asked, almost rhetorically, as her hands deftly removed the pair of tickets inside. "Beauty and the Beast?" Her head snapping up to meet Jane's gaze, Maura's eyes grew wide with excitement.

"It's the Broadway show, but I think a different cast." Jane shrugged, embarrassed as always, with Maura's appreciation.

"Jane, I had no idea this had even opened in Boston! It's wonderful." Maura let her fingers run lightly over the words on the tickets.

"I know the show is late, but you have off tomorrow and I just thought you might like to go do something fun for a little while." Jane took the envelope back from her wife and slipped it back into her pocket. Maura reached one of her hands out and found Jane's cheekbone, sliding slim fingers into thick hair.

"I would love to go. Thank you, Jane." Jane smiled a full, bright Rizzoli smile and kissed her wife several times in succession.

"You're welcome."

. . .

"I just don't understand why he has to be turned back into a human at the end!" Jane's hands were firmly planted on the steering wheel, her face open and bright with a huge grin as she debated with her equally animated wife.

"He has learned his lesson and recognized the need for love as a character trait. The spell breaks, so therefore he becomes human again." Maura laughed lightly, her body slightly twisted in the seat so she could watch Jane's face.

"First of all," Jane began, "First. Of. All. The witch put the spell on him because he refused her due to the fact that she was ugly. He has to learn to love despite appearances. But Belle is named Belle for a reason! By falling in love with her, how is he learning to look past the physical?" Jane pulled the SUV gently around the corner and onto their street.

"Well, he doesn't just fall in love with her appearance. It startles him at first, but he falls in love with her kindness and when she teaches him to read." Maura leaned her head against the headrest, thoroughly enjoying their little debate, then reached up and pressed the button to remotely open the garage door.

"Okay, fine, you think it's her brain, I think it's her face. But aside from that, Belle falls in love with him. As a beast." The SUV slowed and pulled into their driveway, then on into the garage. "He doesn't need to be human at the end because she's fallen in love with who he is when he believes he's a complete monster."

"That's true," Maura responded as Jane jumped out of the parked vehicle and moved to open her door. "But his true self is human. He wasn't a beast to begin with, so the metaphor is that she's fallen in love with who he really is, despite those outward appearances you were talking about."

"But that doesn't make sense. Yes, he was a human. But Belle isn't the one who needs the lesson in loving people despite what they look like. And, she actually understands that someone who feels like a monster can be someone who is loved and cared about. When he becomes a human, it destroys all of that!" Jane unlocked the door into the kitchen and preceded Maura as always. It was simply habit, the blonde had realized long ago, for Jane to clear their home before she entered (even if Jane hardly recognized she did it).

"I don't think it destroys it at all, Jane. He's not a monster. And, as the story concludes, Belle is no longer the only person who can see that. It's romantic because she helps him see himself for who he truly is." Maura moved to the front hall closet and stretched to hang up her tweed coat. As she settled back onto the heels of her shoes, she felt Jane's arms slip around her and a pair of familiar lips press against the back of her head.

"It's romantic because she's too good for him, and he knows it, but he'll sacrifice everything to try and be better." Maura tilted her head to the side as Jane pressed open kisses to the curve of her neck, and considered that maybe they were no longer talking about the musical.

"Ah, but Belle never asked him to give his life up for her. His kindness and love for her are enough to make her fall in love." As their debate melted into a quiet discussion, Maura's hands, covering Jane's long fingers, slid over the curve of their child and down to her quickly-disappearing hip bones. The blonde could feel heat pooling within her as her wife's breath ghosted across her cheek.

"Belle might have loved him for his personality before she returned home to her father, but he couldn't ask for her to stay until he felt he had earned it." Jane's hands slipped out from underneath Maura's and found the zipper on the side of her dress. "He couldn't tell her he loved her because he knew she stayed with him against her will and that he wasn't deserving of her."

"The Beast deserved Belle's love just as much as she deserved his." Maura lifted her arms to give Jane better access to her body, and reached back to lace her fingers into thick, dark hair. "They each had to learn not to make assumptions about others based on what they look like or where they are from. And Belle found all of her dreams from the beginning of the play in the Beast himself."

"Mmm," Jane hummed into Maura's hair before pushing lightly on her hips to turn her around. Kissing her wife softly, then deeply, Jane spread her hands across the expanse of Maura's back and pulled her tightly against the lean planes of her own body. "And what about you, huh?" Jane kept them locked together with her arms, but pulled out of their kiss, brushing her nose against Maura's and then looking seriously into hazel eyes. "Is your life un-provincial?" The blonde grinned and lightly touched her lips to Jane's.

"As un-provincial as I could have ever dreamed."