Just a drabble of the last scene of 3x10 from Mama Rizzoli's pov:)
Not sure if I got Angela down all that well, but this was just screaming to be written.
Hope you likey!
A Mother Always Knows
If there's one thing in my life that I've always been proud of, it's my children. The three beautiful creatures I brought into this world and watched grow. Jane and Frankie, who both grew up to become police officers, probably partly out of spite against my sometimes-overt protectiveness. And Tommy, our own little rascal, who could never stay out of trouble for more than five minutes. No matter what kind of trouble my kids get into, I take pride in standing by them, through thick and thin.
But in the last few years, a fourth person has come into our lives. A woman I met when she was already fully grown, a highly respected professional, and above all a lovable human being. Maura Isles is the best friend and closest person I think my daughter has had in her entire life. Although somewhat quirky, and often a little oblivious, I have grown to love Maura like one of my own. Her need for a mother figure might have something to do with it, but I like to think we'd get along just as well even if she'd had a so-called proper mother growing up.
Most importantly, Maura Isles makes my daughter happy. She makes Jane laugh, and forget about anything that's bothering her in a matter of seconds. As far as I've seen, Jane has never been as relaxed and comfortable in anyone's company. So when Maura lies on our couch, and my daughter brings over a sandwich to comfort her after the worst kind of day (something she wouldn't do for a man even if you had a gun pointed at her, I might add), I don't find it the least bit weird. And when her hands land on Maura's blanket-covered legs, I shift my gaze not out of shame or disapproval, but out of courtesy.
Courtesy and trust that Jane knows what she's doing and what she wants. And a little out of recognizing what they don't yet realize themselves. A mother always knows, that's what they say. But for once, I've decided to keep my big mouth shut, which is saying a lot, I'll tell you. Usually I'd go ahead and declare what I've been aware of for months, maybe years now. But something tells me this is a thing Jane needs to figure out on her own. I would never risk the happiness of my daughter, even if it means keeping all of this bottled up. So I keep my eyes on my knitting, and smile because the three of us are here, and we're all safe. And maybe, just maybe my girls are starting to understand what they've found.