"No, I mean it!" Maura shouted. "Don't you dare touch him."

Jane straightened up and stared at her. For a moment, she was unsure who was more shocked, whether it was her best friend or herself. As Detective Korsack and Officer Rizzoli burst into the charred warehouse and rushed over, seeing what was happening.

The medical examiner quickly told them what to do, and Jane, realising that her help wasn't needed, or wanted, rather, stood up and walked away. Frost was busy calling the paramedics and Agent Gabriel Dean was on the floor next to him, moaning. Not particularly wanting to talk to him either, she stormed out of the warehouse and leaned against the outer of the building.

She showed the paramedics through when they arrived, and less than five minutes later, she saw Patty Doyle leave on a stretcher. The two of them made eye contact as he passed, and he nodded.

Jane knew what that nod meant. It meant that there were no hard feelings between them. Detective Rizzoli and just been doing her job. Jane, on the other hand, had just betrayed a friend. It was odd, she mused, when a trained and professional killer acknowledged that they had no hard feelings.

Just behind him, however, was Maura. She didn't even spare Jane a glance as she rushed past, hopping in the back of the ambulance with him.

The next people out of the warehouse were the other cops. Frost and Korsack looked at her and then wisely walked in the other direction, but Frankie, her little brother, came up to her and wrapped his arms around her. "You did the right thing, Jane," he said.

"I know," she said, becoming aware of how close she was to tears. "Doyle knows that too."

"But Maura doesn't," he said. "She'll come around, Jane. You two have been friends for years."

"Yeah, but this is the first time I've shot her father."

"Sperm donor," he corrected, and she couldn't help but crack a smile. "I'll need to get a witness statement about what went on in there."

"Your only witness just left in an ambulance with a mobster," she replied, making a sour face.

Her mood didn't improve when Agent Dean came walking out, supported by two paramedics who led him to the back of an ambulance so they could assess him.

"Excuse me, Frankie, I need to have a few words with Agent Dean here," she said, following the three of them. "Sorry, fellas, Detective Jane Rizzoli. I need to have a few words with your patient here."

"I'm sorry, but we can't let you talk to him until we're done."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine. He was wearing a vest. Now scoot."

The EMTs looked questioningly at Dean, who nodded. Gulping, the two left.

"What the hell went on in there?" she asked as soon as they were out of earshot. "You said you weren't going to do anything until I said it was okay!"

"He was spotted going into the warehouse, I went in after him. He had a gun, and he shot the man that was at the centre of your murder investigation. You don't call the shots here, Detective Rizzoli. I do."

"I told you he was back in confidence. You gave me your word that – you know what? Forget it. Guys are all the same. You're the reason I had to shoot Doyle. And you're also the reason my best friend is mad at me. Oh, and hey, just so you know? I don't ever want to see you again."

–

"You spoken to Maura yet?" Frost asked a week later as they pored over the paperwork from their latest case.

Jane raised her eyebrows at him, and Korsack quickly cleared his throat. "I haven't," she said. "i thought you were taking her witness statement."

"I wasn't talking about the witness statement," he said. "I mean talking to her about you shooting her -"

"Don't even finish that sentence," she threatened. In a flash she grabbed her jacket and stormed out of the division. Punching the 'down' button on the elevator, she thought about where to go next. She couldn't go down to the morgue like she normally did when she was frustrated. She wasn't going to go to her apartment because, hey, that'd be the first place someone would look for her.

Instead, she jumped in her car and let her instincts lead the way.

In ten minutes, she'd made it to the hospital.

–

"Maura?" Patty Doyle asked, turning towards the opening door. "Oh. Detective Rizzoli."

Jane nodded at him and looked at the officers standing by the bed. "You can leave, officers."

"We were told to stay here and not leave for anybody except Doctor Isles," the one on the left said. It was Officer Rayne from homicide. She didn't associate with him much, but she knew who he was. The other was Officer Talbot, who usually worked in robbery. They'd met once or twice, but she'd never looked this scared.

"How about you both go get some coffee then?" she suggested. "I need to talk to Doyle. Alone."

Rayne and Talbot nodded to each other and walked past her out into the corridor.

"You can be very persuasive, Detective Rizzoli," he said as she walked over to him. "You're not scared of me?"

"I've been scared of criminals in hospitals before, Doyle. No doubt you heard about that one?"

"I did," he replied. "I hope you can understand that I was just trying to protect my daughter in that warehouse. He was going to shoot her."

"And I'm glad that you stepped in to stop him," Jane nodded. "Personally, I don't feel I would have made it in time. Thank you. But that doesn't mean you should have shot the FBI agent."

"I know. Can I ask you a question, Detective Rizzoli?"

"Of course."

"And I need to know the truth... If I were anybody else, not Maura's father... would you have shot me sooner?"

"Without a doubt," Jane replied. "And I probably wouldn't have shot you at all if you hadn't pointed your gun at my partner. You understand that, right?"

He nodded.

"I'm glad we're getting along, Doyle," she said.

"Have you spoken to Maura yet?"'

"You might have just ruined it," she replied, leaning back in the chair beside his bed.

"She needs you, Jane. She's hurting. Her mother's still in hospital. I'm here. She needs somebody to talk to, and you're the only one that knows her well enough to talk her out of it."

"She's mad at me, Patty," she replied, raising her voice. "She's not going to talk to me."

"Then you just talk to her," he said. "Now, can you please send the officers back in? I'm tired and I'd like to go to sleep."

–

Before she knew it, she found herself outside Maura's house. She wasn't sure how long she waited outside in the car, but eventually, she worked up the nerve to walk up to the door and knocked. Nobody answered.

"Police, open up!" she shouted.

"Or what?" Maura asked. And whew, she sounded pissed.

"Or I'll break down the door," she yelled back. "And I won't pay for the damages."

There was silence from the other side of the door.

"One," she called out warningly.

More silence.

"Two... Three!"

"Okay, okay!" Maura said opening the door. "What do you want?"

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"No."

"Thanks," Jane smiled and pushed past. "How are you doing, Maura?"

"What are you doing here, Detective?" Maura asked, crossing her arms over her chest and fixing Jane with a severe look.

"Your dad asked me to come by," Jane replied, lifting up a pile of magazines and putting them back down again.

"My dad is in Tanzania, and he sure as hell did not ask Calamity Jane to swing by."

Jane laughed. "I've actually never heard that one before. And I'm not talking about 'Mr Isles'... I'm talking about Doyle."

"I thought I told you not to touch him," she said.

"Okay, you told me that a week ago when I was trying to stop him from bleeding to death. And you didn't want me to help."

"Because you shot him!"

"Because he shot an FBI agent."

"Who you happened to be sleeping with!"
Jane stared at her. "Ouch, Maura. Your murderer of a father understands that I was just doing my job. Why can't you?"

"You almost killed him! All he was doing was trying to protect me."

"Yes. And he did that, by killing our suspect. I wasn't going to shoot him for that. But when a killer shoots an FBI agent and turns a gun on my partner, I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure he doesn't pull that trigger again, you understand me?"

Maura was decidedly silent.

"Look, I didn't come here to fight with you. In fact, the only reason I did come here was because Doyle asked me to check up on you. He told me you needed to talk. That you were hurting."

"I'm not."

"Respectfully, I'm not going to believe that. We're good friends, Maura. You've been there with me through everything. You were there when I was being terrorised by Hoyt. You were there when I shot myself. And let's not forget all those other times when you were just my best friend when I needed some semblance of normal in my life. Now why don't you let me do that for you?"

"Because, Jane."

"And I don't want to hear the 'you shot my father' excuse. Because I was there for you when you and your mother were in that hit and run. I did everything I could to find the jerk that did that to you. Does that mean nothing to you?"

Maura was silent. Close to tears, if Jane knew her as well as she thought she did. But that didn't stop her.

"I told Agent Dean not to go after Doyle because I knew it would end up like this. You have to believe me when I say that I didn't want any of this to happen."

"Then why did Dean go after him?" Maura shouted.

"Beats me. And I didn't keep him around long enough to find out."

"You broke up with him?"

"We weren't together," Jane shrugged. "Are you going to talk to me yet?"
She bit her bottom lip in an effort not to talk, but as soon as she inhaled she started talking. "He was so close to dying and I just didn't want that to happen."

"I was trying to help him."

"I know that, I just... I wasn't thinking, Jane. At that moment, it was just logical that you were trying to do him harm. Don't interrupt me, it's a common thought amongst people who have just watched their parents being shot. And especially for me because you were the one that shot him. And all he was saying was 'Hope'. I didn't know what he meant, and I didn't want you there while he said it."

"You think it has something to do with your biological mother?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Probably."

"Alright, well, he's alive now, and he probably will be for a while. So what's the problem?"

"I'm stubborn, Jane, you know that. I don't like letting go of things. And I don't like admitting that... that..."

"That you need someone to talk to? I'm right here, Maura. Talk to me. Your best friend."

–

"So..." Frost said the next morning as they made their way to the crime scene. "Spoken to Maura yet?"

"Why do you keep asking about that, Frost?" she asked, pulling her gloves out of her pocket.

"Because she's working the crime scene? First day back at work, I hear."

"Yeah, no kidding," Jane said. "What'd'ya got for us, Maura?"

"A uh... gunshot wound to the chest. Seems to have bled out but I'll know more once I finish the autopsy. Jane, can I talk to you? In private?"

"Yeah, sure," she smiled, leading them over to a place just out of earshot of the crime scene. "What's up?"

"Thank you," Maura said. "For coming over last night. My dad was right. I did need that. And I'm glad that we're best friends."

Jane smiled. "So am I, Maura. Thanks for seeing sense."

"Oh, you can't see sense," Maura objected. "All you can do is feel it."

"Alright, alright. I get it," Jane laughed, happy that her friend was back. "Go do your autopsy."