"Oh, come on! Are you seeing this?!"

Maura just sighed and continued typing on her sleek laptop. "Obviously, Jane, as I'm physically present."

Jane flung her hands up, utterly exasperated. "How does this always happen to me?"

Maura shook her head, tabbing through the files with an elegantly manicured finger. "I don't believe it's actually personal, Jane. That would imply either a divine being with causal reason to specifically select you or a highly inappropriate mischievous illegal collusion within the city commuting-"

Jane glared through the dusty windshield at the bumper to bumper sweltering nightmare outside they were trapped in, her thick frizzing black curls making her look more than just a little demented right now. The guy in front of her flipped her a bird. Jane growled. "Well, it's feeling personal right now!"

"Calm down, Jane, it's just traffic."

Jane turned her glare now on the other woman. "I am calm!"

Maura paused in her typing, considering it. "For an Italian, hmm, I suppose yes."

Jane's eyes went huge in outrage. "Maura!"

Maura gave up on actually getting any work done with Jane in this state and closed her laptop down. "Jane, I really don't see the point of getting worked up over this. It's not like it's going to cause us to move any faster."

"It might!"

"It won't."

"I could use the horn."

Maura arched a fine eyebrow. "It's Boston, Jane."

Jane huffed. "Point. Fine, I could use my badge."

"This isn't a police checkpoint, its gridlock."

"I could use my gun." Jane grumbled obstinately.

"You could."

Jane perked up instantly. "Wait, really?"

"Yes, I'm sure Givens in SWAT would be more than happy to win the pool." Maura smiled smugly.

Jane's jaw actually dropped. "What? SWAT has a pool on shooting me?"

Maura laughed at the look on Jane's face. "Don't be silly, Jane! They are officers of the law." She sobered then and sniffed; crossing her arms displeased and gave Jane a dark look. "They know you. They expect someone will want to shoot you."

"Hey!"

"Again."

"Hey!"

Maura frowned at the console. "You should turn off the car, Jane. The estimated fuel consumption of an idling engine is-"

Jane gave her an 'Are-you-crazy-woman?' stare. "You want us to sit in traffic in the middle of summer in Massachusetts without air conditioning?"

Maura's hazel eyes caught the temperature readout of the soaring heat outside and she winced.

The man in the delivery van behind them laid on the horn.

Jane gritted her teeth. "I hate this city in heat waves."

"Would it help soothe you to listen to music?"

Jane eyed Maura suspecting something. "Your music or my music?"

"Jane, be serious. What you listen to isn't music. It's a sonic weapon befitting military applications."

"What? I can't believe you said that! Where is your sense of culture?"

"With Johann Sebastian Bach, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Ludwig van Beethoven."

"Where is your sense of American culture?"

Maura snorted delicately, openly amused. "Trust me, Jane. What you listen to isn't even American culture."

"That's like blasphemy, woman."

Maura opened her mouth to begin correcting Jane on her word definition misuse.

Jane grimaced and waved her hands frantically to stop the impending semantics lecture. "I know, I know! I was just using poetic license."

"Poetic license? Jane, given your musical preferences, I almost shudder to think of what you might consider poetry."

"You be nice! And for the record, I know poetry."

"Shel Silverstein and Dr. Seuss do not count."

"Hah! Some brilliant brain you are-I was thinking of Yeats, so there!"

Maura actually blinked in honest surprise. Then her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Which one?"

"Which one what? Is this some kind of trick question? There's only one Yeats, Maura!"

"Really, Jane? Which poem."

"Wait, are you saying you don't believe me?" Jane actually looked really offended. "Hey, just because I don't have a fancy education, doesn't mean that I'm totally illiterate!" She crossed her arms and slouched in her chair, refusing to look at Maura now.

There was a strained silence between them and the angry sounds of the congested traffic outside seemed hyper loud.

Maura shifted in her seat. "Jane, I'm sorry."

Jane finally huffed again and she uncrossed her arms. "I'm starving."

Maura frowned instantly, stiffening in instant disapproval. "Jane, did you skip breakfast again?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "I already have a mother, Maura."

"Jane! The U. S. Department of Agriculture cites the following studies indicating a direct link between the consumption of breakfast and improved cognitive functions in-"

"Maura! Just how do you have space in your brain for all this crap?"

"The human brain possesses an-"

Jane covered her ears. "La la la! Not listening!"

Maura tried to keep a stern face and failed. She leaned over and poked Jane hard in the ribs. "I'm serious, Jane!"

"Ow! I can feel that!"

"You need to take proper care of your health."

"I do!"

Maura stared at her. Then deliberately reached down and picked up a crumpled greasy fast food wrapper between two disdainful fingers. "Really?"

Jane blushed red, snatched the wrapper and threw it over her shoulder into the back of the car. "Okay, I'm working on it."

"I can make you breakfast, you know."

"As tempting as that is, I'm not three, Maura."

"That is obvious. Three year olds cooperate better and have more good sense."

Jane stuck her tongue out at Maura.

Maura swatted her. "Jane! I'm trying to help here! The cumulative effects of improper diet can drastically reduce projected lifespan by years. Malnutrition not only depletes the body of vital biochemical requirements but it weakens the immune system significantly, which in turn-"

"Will you make me pancakes?"

Maura stopped. "Yes."

"Bacon?"

"Absolutely not."

"Am I still allowed syrup?"

"If it's genuine maple. The inappropriate sugar levels are less destructive than the carcinogenic or neurotoxin effects received from artificial sugars, additives and preservatives of manufactured syrups."

"Butter?"

"Only in the FDA approved daily serving size."

"Coffee?"

"No. The negative effects outweigh the-"

Jane looked a little crazy eyed. "Maura! I'm a detective! I. Can't. Not. Have. Coffee."

"That's a double negative."

"Maura, please!"

"I was referring to your abysmal grammatical sentencing structure, Jane."

Jane looked relieved. "Oh, good."

"But it also works for the other."

"Maura! What am I supposed to drink in the morning?"

Maura's face brightened. "Ah! You may choose from an herbal infusion or a fruit and vegetable smoothie."

"Yeah," Jane growled. "So not happening. I'm having coffee."

The two women narrowed their eyes at each other.

Jane clenched her jaw, digging in. "Coffee, Maura."

"No."

"Coffee!"

"Jane, I'm not trying to torture you here! It's for your own good!"

"How can be deprived of coffee be good for me?"

"It will improve your project life expectancy rates."

"Who wants to live forever if they can't have coffee?"

"Jane! You are being ridiculous about this!"

"Me? You! If I want a short happy life, that's totally my right!"

"Oh, no, you don't! I absolutely insist that you have a lifespan at least as long as mine. I refuse to see you on one of my morgue tables!"

Jane sighed. "Maura, I'm a Rizzoli. I can eat stuff made by Frankie and suffer no ill effects."

Maura shuddered but her chin firmed. "I'm not taking any chances. Your profession in law enforcement increases your risk of unnatural death high enough as it is already. You will not add any additional assisting factors, Jane Clementine Rizzoli!"

"Did you just triple name me?" Jane sputtered, furious. "That's crap, Maura! You get into every bit as much danger as I do!"

Maura sniffed dismissively. "No, I get into occasional difficulty. You, however, are always in trouble. Ask Korsak. Or anyone in the precinct. Or anyone in Boston for that matter. It's obviously my job to protect you since you are apparently completely incapable or unwilling of doing it yourself."

"First, hey! Second, I'm the one with the gun here! If anyone's doing the protecting, it's going to be me! And third, I'm a grown woman, damn it, I'll do what I want!"

"Jane, this discussion is closed."

"Like hell! I'm not going without coffee and you can't make me!"

Maura looked at Jane with that 'Queen of the Dead' steely cold warning stare that everyone in the entire state of Massachusetts knew in the primitive hind part of their brains as imminent terrible danger. "Oh, can't I?" she said with almost supernatural calm.

Jane stared at the smaller woman uneasily, obviously trying to calculate her odds.

Maura slowly smiled sweetly.

"You're so damn bossy." Jane sulked down in her car seat. "Fine. I'll take the herbal thingy."

At that moment the traffic started to move again.

Jane grumbled. "You know this is why Korsak won't let you ride anymore in his car, right?"

Maura wrinkled her nose. "Big baby."

The two women rode in silence a few more blocks.

Finally, Maura's well known natural curiosity got the better of her. "What poem were you thinking of?"

Jane glowered at her a moment and then shrugged. "The Two Trees."

Maura looked at Jane, confused. "That is not a commonly well-known poem, Jane. Why that one?"

"I came across it just before I went into the Academy. I guess going to a crime scene and you talking about poetry made me think of it again. It's actually kind of a cop poem, you know?"

Maura blinked. "What do you mean?"

Absently, Jane rubbed one of the scars on her hands and her voice dropped into a quieter rasp as she thought her way through it. "Well, every day cops look into the 'bitter glass' the bad guys hold up. We see the absolute worst of humanity all the time. And if we're not careful, somewhere along the way, we'll start believing that it's all humanity is. We have to look away from all that. Look at something good. Or we'll lose our perspective entirely."

Maura looked at her a long time. "What do you look at, Jane?" she asked softly.

Jane was silent a few blocks more, but this time the silence was calm. "My family. Friends. You." Then her lips quirked wryly and she gave a mock glower at Maura. "Even though you guys make me crazy because you're so bossy."

Maura smiled.

They pulled up to their crime scene finally and Korsak gave them a 'Just-where-the-hell-have-you-two-been?' stare.

Maura sighed. "Fine. A little coffee."