A/N: Okay, so this may be ooc and/or uncalled for, and I won't lie- most of Jane's dialogue here is basically everything I wanted to yell at Hope and Cailin at the end of last night's episode. By the way, thanks to those of you who helped me solve the Cailin-spelling-mystery...I think? Subtitles, TV guide recaps- they all seem to be saying different things. So weird as it feels, I'll stick to "Cailin."

It had been three days since Dr. Hope Martin learned her and Paddy Doyle's daughter was still alive. She had ignored countless phone calls from that daughter, barely even paying attention when Cailin even tried reaching out and trying to get her to open up. Hope still wasn't sure she could believe it at all—how could Maura still be alive? But what would Dr. Isles possibly be hoping to gain by making it all up?

Around 9:00, there was a loud knock at the door. Typically when the doorbell went off or the phone rang, Cailin would just sit in her room and ignore it, but as Hope had barely acknowledged the outside world in nearly seventy-two hours, the girl took it upon herself to see who was so urgently knocking at this hour. For a moment she worried it might be Maura, but was surprised to open the door and see the woman she had presumed was Maura's significant other.

"Hey kid, don't mind me, I'll just be a second," Jane said, waltzing in without being invited.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but it's kind of late," Cailin said harshly, slamming the door and blocking Jane from walking any further.

"Don't call me 'ma'am,' kid."

"Well don't call me 'kid,' then!"

"I will when you stop acting like one!" Jane barked, pointing an accusatory finger at Cailin. "You were in London, huh? Right? At Oxford? Aren't British people supposed to be polite? Did they teach you nothing? If you want to be treated like more than a kid, you need to start acting like an adult! Jumping down Maura's throat the way you did when she's done nothing to—"

The raised voices had brought Hope out of her bedroom, and in angry shock at Jane's attitude, she swiftly walked up and protectively stepped in front of Cailin. "Detective Rizzoli! What exactly do you think you're doing, barging in here and—"

"What exactly do I think I'm doing? I'm trying to drill a little common sense and decency into you and your daughter!"

"Detective, are you drunk?"

Jane laughed airily, only confirming Hope's theory. She had in fact been out drinking with Frost and Frankie, but she was far from intoxicated. However, she had drunk enough to disintegrate her already-fragile filter even more than usual, and the fact that Maura was still too depressed about her family situation to go out for a drink had only built on Jane's growing rage towards Hope and Cailin.

In her best aggressive cop voice and stance, Jane said, "You two are going to listen to me, and you are not going to interrupt. Understand? I have a heartbroken best friend who has gone through at least fifty boxes of tissues in the last three days, and it's solely because of the way she was treated by her flesh and blood. It took some badgering on my part, but I know exactly what went down between you and all, and I am not happy about it."

"Oh, right, 'cause we look so thrilled," Cailin grumbled.

"I thought I said not to interrupt me, kid. That wasn't a request." Jane's expression softened slightly when Cailin stiffly folded her arms and bowed her head, looking not so much sullen as hurt. "I know you're scared right now, Cailin. And I know you're upset. I know you're sick. Are you really so proud that you won't take a kidney from your sister? Because that's who Maura is. She's your sister. She can save you. And I don't feel sorry for you because of that. I know Maura can't force you to take her kidney, but you're a damn fool if you don't take her up on it. She was trying to spare your feelings by doing it anonymously, and—hey, while I'm at it, where do you get off accusing her of keeping her identity a secret all this time?"

"How long has she known?" Hope asked in a cracked whisper. "Has Maura… I mean, did she grow up knowing she… was adopted?"

"Of course she knew she was adopted," Jane said in a voice that was probably more snippy than was called for. "But she didn't know until about two weeks ago that you were her birth mother, Hope. Dr. Martin. That's when she was finally able to put all the fragments together and find out who you were, because she's spent her whole life trying to find you." Rounding on Cailin again, Jane said, "Don't you dare pin anything on Maura. You think you had it hard, trying to live in the shadow of a dead baby?"

Hope gasped softly and turned to look at Cailin, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Sweetheart, I never wanted you to—"

"I could never be good enough!" Cailin blurted out. "How could I measure up to a child you never even knew? Who could've been perfect? Hell, she is perfect—"

"You're damn right she's perfect!" Jane almost shouted. "Especially considering all the crap she's had to go through her whole life! Cailin, you feel like you never got roots anywhere? That your mother just dragged you along wherever she damn well pleased? Well at least she took you. At least she wanted to be with you, to have you around, to be your mother. Maura? She spent a lifetime facing benign neglect. Boarding school at age ten. Hardly ever any visits from her adoptive parents then or since. Your mother has worked hard to support you. To give you what you need and what you deserve."

This is where when of the Martins might have stepped in to say Jane didn't know anything about them, but Cailin had been sufficiently cowed by Jane's intimidation skills and Hope could not refute Jane's gut assumptions.

The detective continued: "Now I wasn't an angel growing up, Cailin. Hell, my Ma and I still have our problems. I've been on death's door, okay? I know how it feels. It's scary as hell. But I always just focused on trying to be the best person I could be. You had no right to speak to Maura the way you did. And you," she said softly, turning narrowed eyes on Hope. "I wish you had a fraction of an idea how much Maura has been suffering because of you."

"Please, detective," Hope sniffed, tears falling silently out of her eyes. "If you've come here to try and make us feel worse, you've—"

"I've come here to make a point," Jane cut in. "I've come here to make sure you know Maura Isles really is your daughter, to vouch that she's not some crackpot who thought it'd be fun to claim that! And also to make sure both of you have a crystal clear image of who exactly Maura Isles is and why she does the things she does. I made her call you up, Dr. Martin. That wasn't some BS story," she added, shooting a dark glare at Cailin. "If we stood a chance in hell of solving that case, we needed your professional assistance, Hope. And you know what? Maura was terrified she wouldn't live up to you."

Hope put a hand to her forehead, reeling with all the recollections of that afternoon—what she had divulged, what she had done. "Oh, God…"

"Yeah, is it coming back to you? Remember how Maura started crying when you hugged her?" Jane asked. "That wasn't because we made a break in the case. It's because I don't think she's ever had a mother's hug in her entire life. And obviously I don't mean just from you, but even from Constance—her adoptive mother. She's not really the hugging type. So to have you do that? Maura almost broke down! And after you left, she did! She didn't want to burden you, Hope, she didn't want to be a reminder of the big-ass mistake you made in getting close to Paddy Doyle. But you know what? I'm glad you did it. If you hadn't, I never would have met the person who means more to me than anyone else in the entire world. And I will put a bullet in my mouth before I just sit quiet and let the two of you turn that person's world into some sort of hell."

"Detective…"

"Oh don't stop me now, I'm getting my second wind!" Jane scoffed. "I don't know how or when she would have told you, if ever, but your kid came and spilled the beans! All Maura has wanted to do since she found out who you were is help you! Both of you! She wants to do whatever it takes for you to be safe and happy, and if that meant never knowing her true identity, then so be it! I know I may not have a lot of nice things in my life, Hope—I might not drive a fancy car, or make millions of dollars, or travel the globe or study at Oxford—but my life is richer than yours for knowing Maura and exactly who she is to me."

Speaking in a slightly more authoritative tone, Hope said, "Detective, we need time to adjust. This is… surely you must understand what a shock this has been."

"Of course I do. But you shouldn't be processing it alone. You shouldn't be shutting Maura out. It was a shock to her to find out that her father was Paddy Doyle. She's struggled with it ever since—this fear that she's wicked, that she's got evil somehow inherent in her blood." Shaking her head in disbelief, Jane said, "She was afraid to tell you who she was, because she thought you'd associate her with that evil. Maura is the least wicked person I know. She is sweet. She is kind. She is charitable and uplifting, and a million other things any woman should be proud to know her daughter is. Maura is all those things in spite of her less-than-happy childhood, and her distant parents. I mean she's finally sort of reconciled with Constance—"

"I know," Hope said so quietly that Jane didn't hear her.

"—but now she's sick at the thought of you shutting her out. She wants to be there for you. For both of you. Look at her and see the best qualities in yourself. I know you already love her, Hope. Don't let the fact that you're related change that. Oh, and in case you were wondering, Maura didn't send me here to tell you all this."

"I didn't think she would," Hope whispered.

"And I don't give a rat's ass what you think about me. I've been told people call me a bitch behind my back, and I don't freaking care in this case if you do. You can call me that to my face, if you want to. I just had to get this out or I was gonna kill something."

And then, without another word, Jane turned on her heel and left.

Hope and Cailin stood staring at the door for several silent moments, both of them still on edge. Finally, Cailin said, "Uh…did… did you ever eat dinner, mom?"

"No. Did you?"

"No. Kinda hungry, though."

With a scoff, Hope muttered, "You didn't gorge yourself on the humble pie Detective Rizzoli just dropped off?"

Cailin tried to smile, but it came off as a grimace. "It was a pretty serious first course, but I think I could handle some more. Wanna try takeout from that Chinese place the neighbors suggested?"

"Sure. Go find the menu, and order what you want. I'll be right back," Hope said, heading towards her office.

"Do Chinese people eat kidney?"

"What?"

"It—I dunno, is it something they eat? Never mind," Cailin said quickly, waving her hand. "I just, er…" She sighed heavily. "If Maura still wants to give me her kidney …I'll take it."

Hope walked back to Cailin and drew her into a tight hug. Cailin was never easily moved to tears, so the fact that she was crying now really said a lot. They stood embracing by the kitchen for nearly a full minute before Cailin finally pulled away and offered to order the takeout.

While that phone call was going on, Hope returned to her office and pulled up an email she had received that morning and reread six times since. It was from Constance Isles:

Dr. Martin—

I am torn between trying to be polite and saying I hope you don't mind that I emailed you using the address I found on your group's website and saying that I don't give a damn either way. Last night I received a phone call from Maura telling me that not only had she met you, but she had told you her true identity—news you apparently did not take kindly. I can understand why—that must have been beyond shocking for you, as much as it was for her. There is too much I should like to say to you than what I can put in the body of an email. This is the kind of conversation that needs to be had on the phone, at least, so we may converse more freely. You should be as proud to have Maura for your daughter as I am. Don't make the mistake I did of taking her for granted.

Beneath her name and phone number, Constance left a post-script:

P.S. In case you have not already been verbally assaulted by one Detective Jane Rizzoli, I will warn you now to prepare for that tornado. Maura does not have a husband, or to my knowledge, even a boyfriend. Jane is the most important person in her life, and vice versa—if Jane believes you are treating Maura in any way that is even slightly intolerable, she will not hesitate to let you know. She's brash and straightforward, yes. She'll probably cross a line or two, and maybe even erase them completely. But if you listen to her as I did, I can guarantee you won't be sorry.