Author: And I couldn't help myself yet again. That summer finale was something else. Any mistakes, grammar- and spelling-wise, all mine.

Disclaimer: If only.

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Maura honestly thought she'd seen Jane at her worst. And by "worst," she means at the height of her pain. When the feelings were just a little bit too much, it scared Maura just a tad too much as well when her best friend shut herself down and away from everyone else, including her.

She'd certainly seen her detective at her pettiest—that time with her biological father's shooting was most enlightening. She'd seen her cranky—Maura will never say it out loud but sometimes she wonders if Jo Friday took after Jane or vice versa whenever an empty stomach became an issue. She'd seen her at her protective stance, always first to take her side and the first step right in front of her whenever Jane felt she was in danger. Like when she garnered a few gazes from strange men in crime scenes that lingered just a little bit too long in the detective's opinion. After a few incidents like it, Maura found herself rolling her eyes in a mix of exasperation and affection at how Jane would step right between her and said strangers, staunch in her defensive and protective posture while displaying her badge and gun proudly in the process. Jane probably thinks Maura doesn't notice but she's also seen how she'd sometimes brush up close against another detective, mutter something in his or her ear and have them walk quickly away afterwards. She also probably thinks Maura doesn't notice that more often than not, those were the very same people the doctor knows tend to call her names like "Dr. Death."

And she'd seen Jane smug.

Too smug sometimes when she'd catch her watching Jersey Shore. If it's for research, where's the harm? Maura absently notes to herself that she should make it a point to catch Jane watching WAGS sometime soon so she can repay the favor.

She'd also seen Jane battered, bruised, wounded, hurt—in more ways than one and far too frequently than what she's really comfortable with: not just as a doctor but as her best friend.

And she'd seen her at her proudest whenever she gets to close a case. More so when she is able to tell a grieving family that justice has been served.

But in anger…

Maura began to rethink if perhaps seeing Jane's "worst" was happening right now.

She thought she'd seen Jane angry. From what she could recall of their last encounter with Hoyt, Maura remembers how fiercely her detective fought for her—for both of them.

She'd seen that brief flash of heated anger, tempered, molten, simmering just below a tightly controlled surface that is often directed at suspects, killers, unrepentant monsters.

But never like this.

Never directed at her. Her.

How? Why? What has she done to warrant such…such a look of hatred?

"Jane…" She whispers. Her voice is wavering, shaky, Maura notes. But she hardly cares. She wants to know what she's done to deserve Jane's wrath—yes! Wrath seems to be the perfect word to sum up her best friend in this moment. More than that, she wants to know what she needs to do to get Jane to look at her like she did before!

"Maura…" Jane growls, deadly and foreboding like that of a predator out for blood in the wild.

Maura's breath hitches and a soft sob stumbles past her lips. What has she done?

Suddenly, it was as if all the hurt came back and Maura could've sworn there was pain registering everywhere. Her head…it's been throbbing before but now it seems as if whatever it was that caused it had come back in full force to make itself known.

She can't seem to think clearly as to why Jane was so mad.

And just like that, with that sob, Jane's facial expression shifts and changes.

"Maura?"

Her head shoots up, her eyes hopeful and…

She'd seen Jane happy. When she's lounging on her couch watching the Red Sox, drinking beer, feet on her coffee table. Yes, sometimes she lets her get away with it precisely because she loves to see Jane happy, content, at peace. Even if it's just for a single weekend afternoon. When Jane is happy, it's like she draws everyone around her to feel the same. And she may pretend to act all grumpy and inconvenienced but she knows Jane. Her detective's happy when Sunday rolls around and their not on call. They can go out for brunch, hit up a few stores, walk in the park, see a movie or a play. Or just stay in and just…be.

Hers.

She'll be catching up on her medical journals, seated at one end of the couch, and when she looks up to see what Jane is up to, she'll be right there on the other end reading something on her tablet, chuckling.

And when she gets caught looking at her, Jane will just grin that adorable kind that brings out a glow she can't quite explain and without even hearing what it is that's caught her amusement, Maura knows she'll be sporting a smile just as wide, simply because her best friend is happy.

She'd seen Jane comfort her by mere look alone.

It was a mix of something like hope, warmth, joy, sense of safety, of being cared for…loved.

Maura gasps.

"Maura? Are you hurt?" Jane's voice is undeniably soft. And the look in her eyes conveys all that Maura feels she'll ever need to get through whatever life may decide to throw at her.

"Maura? C'mon sweetie, answer me." It's soft and pleading now.

Maura shakes her head slowly, not really wanting to let her gaze wander away from Jane's.

But a sharp stabbing pain at the back of her head makes her wince and she can't help a grimace that emerges by her expression.

And Jane transforms right back into that scary angry mess she feared that—just a moment ago—was meant for her.

"You sonofabitch." She growls low and menacingly and takes a step closer, gun in her hand ever steady.

And then Maura realizes that it's not her. Jane's anger isn't directed at her.

It's for the one behind her. She didn't hear him at all. But then again, it's precisely how she was taken in the first place, wasn't it?

"You burn down my apartment, hack into my account, scare my family…you crazy little fucker. I could've probably forgiven you for all of that shit. But—YOU—DON'T—MESS—WITH—MAURA. No one does."

A laugh echoes behind her. But Maura knows better. It's actually a laugh lined with fear.

She thought she'd seen Jane at her worst. But this one right here, right in front of her…she knows this is the Jane she knows best.

She's safe. She's fine. And she'll be home soon enough.

Just as soon as Jane decides to stop "playing with her food."