The clock on the mantel ticked several seconds away as Jane's brain processed what Maura had just said. "Ours?" The question was quiet and confused. "Ours?" She said again, her face mirroring her confusion. "But... but... Maura." Dark eyebrows pulled together in puzzlement, "I've been out of the hospital for over two and half months. You've been with Slucky this entire time. I mean, why now? Why not drop him when I was released?"

The question that someone who might have been on the outside looking in would have asked never came from Jane's lips. The thought never occurred to Jane to ask what made their relationship so special that Maura no longer needed Bryon Slucky to fill the void the doctor spoke of, nor did Jane bother or think to ask what the void was exactly. Instead, the detective's focus was on the timing. "Maura, why now? What changed?"

"It was time," Maura replied simply, as if that were a reasonable explanation. When Jane's expression told her otherwise, she patted the lanky woman's calf. "Let me up." She got up to take both fruit bowls to the kitchen and wash them. "What changed... Well, it wasn't one large event, not like the shooting. I suppose you could say it was an accumulation of small things, sort of like a rockslide or an avalanche. Gradual shifts. You woke up, and that was a first one. You were released from the hospital. You completed supervised physical therapy." She set the last spoon in the drain rack and came back to rejoin the detective on the couch. "And of course, there were the things that happened between me and Byron."

"I told you Byron was tender in bed. That was... that was a little misleading." Enough that some might consider it a damned dirty lie, and Maura knew it. She looked down at her fingernails, the bright red splayed across the fabric of Jane's pants. She would repaint them tomorrow, perhaps, or maybe just remove the polish and let them be naked for a few days. "What I should have said to give a better picture of things was that Byron was a cuddler. I had figured him to be the sort that would just need me to make out with him all the time, with incremental escalations, in order for him to stay where I needed him. He wasn't. A little kissing, and he was fine with snuggling for the rest of the night. The night before I broke up with him, he proposed an escalation of our physical relationship, and I chose not to accept. I knew it was time to end things, and I suppose I should have just said so, but before I could, he gave me a stronger reason than that."

Jane narrowed her eyes, sitting up as she did so. She faced her friend, her expression a mix of frustration, anger, and weariness. "Didn't I just ask you to cut me a break here and just... okay, you know what? Never mind. Forget I asked." She rolled her eyes and threw a hand up in frustration. "I give. You win. You don't want to tell me, fine. Don't tell; just... just say you don't want to say instead of giving me the run around. See?"

Maura opened her mouth to say, "I'm getting there," but Jane didn't give her the chance to comment, let alone answer the questions being asked of her.

In a smooth motion, the detective stood up, walking back to the coffee pot in the kitchen, "This is one of the reasons why, if we liked women, we could never date each other. This thing you do where you beat around the bush instead of just answering the question?" She poured the coffee and started adding sugar, oblivious to Maura's facial expression freezing, then falling into hurt. . "Yeah... it drives me nuts. Why can't you just answer a question? Why do you always have to drag shit out with some elongated answer? It's like watching a foreign flick where the chick on the screen answers the guy with some two minute response and the subtitles give a two word response." She took a sip, nodded, and continued on with her rant, "You always give the chick response even when I'm practically begging you for the subtitles." She shook her head.

"Whatever. It was time. You didn't have sex with him. You like to cuddle. Whoo." Jane made a little circle in the air with the index finger of her free hand. "Are you going home tonight or what? It's getting late."

Maura pursed her lips in thought, waiting to see if Jane had anything else to add. Upon seeing that the rant was complete, she replied in a curt tone, "Byron denigrated my profession by saying I was 'just a forensic pathologist', and then he dismissed my concerns for your healing process. He said healing rates varied, and that my perceptions of your physical strengths were inflated to tumidity. He strongly implied that you were average. So, I... um... Well, I shoved his briefcase into his... into him."

With irritation mixed with the hurt in her voice, she added in a huff, "I can leave... if you want me to."

Jane gave two little smacks of her lips as she thought about what Maura had just said. "No, you can stay if you want." She shrugged. "So, Slucky... you broke up with him because he said I was average? No, wait... hold on a second," the coffee cup in her hand slammed down on the counter top with a loud thud, "That bastard said you were just a pathologist? Really? That's like saying Superman is just a reporter. I can't believe he said that! God, what a sorry piece of shit. Did he know you at all? Oh... That. Is. It. I'm going to go kick his ass. I don't care if he is my doctor." In a moment of wild anger, Jane started for her front door.

"No," said Maura firmly, though not without an undercurrent of unpleasant shrillness, a fear that Jane really would do such a thing. She hurried to intercept, standing in front of the door to reason with her best friend. "Jane, don't. Byron has a lawyer who will take you for everything for assaulting him without provocation. Stop. Jane, look at me." Nervousness kept her voice tight, but she did an admirable job of projecting calm rationality overlying it all. "I don't care what Byron Slucky says about my profession, or my competency at my profession. It doesn't matter. I cared what he said about you, and I got him for it. Right in the... gonadal area. It's done. You don't have to charge off into the night to defend my honor. Although," she added with a sudden shading of her common, usually inappropriate, flirtatiousness, "it's awfully sweet of you."

With a grunt, Jane shook her head. "Fine. But, I reserve the right to kick his ass if he says that when I'm around. It's justifiable. There's a hundred cops on the force that would back me. You are so much more than just a forensic pathologist, and Byron is nothing but an asshole." She crossed her arms, tiling her head to the side. "You can stop blocking my front door with your body now, Queenie. This knight is tired. You about ready to go to bed?" She turned to head back to the kitchen to rinse out her cup and turn the coffee pot off.

"I'll just..." Maura hesitated, glancing around the front room. It was apparent that Angela had made regular intrusions into Jane's space; even the mess of the night before was mostly cleared by now. "Yes. I still have things to wear here, don't I?"

"Yeah, they're in the night stand by the window." With a thunk, the coffee cup was placed beside the coffee pot.

"And you've changed the sheets since Casey left?"

"No, Ma did that for me," Jane growled at the memory of that morning. "Not that it would matter. We didn't... never mind. You're safe from guy cooties. You just have to deal with mine." After turning out the last of the lights in the main part of the apartment, Jane walked into her bedroom, flicking on the light as she walked in. "You coming or what?"

In fact, Maura followed so closely that when Jane paused to turn on the light, the smaller woman all but crashed into her from behind. "Oh! Sorry. Yes. You know, the term 'cooties' is an Austronesian languages' word, kutu,meaning lice."

The next few minutes of bed preparations, in which she regaled Jane with a lengthy monologue concerning the history of the word's history and usage as childhood slang, were... trying.

As they settled into bed, Jane's patience finally wore to an end. In a fit, she turned on her side to face the still talking doctor and placed two fingers over the other woman's lips, silencing her. "Maura, it's late. I'm tired, and, although it's normally cute when you go all Googlemouth on me, I'm going to have to ask you to stop now. Okay? Now, I'm going to remove my fingers, and, when I do, if you're still giving me the history of the word 'cootie', I can't be held responsible for what I do next. Got it?" She waited, hovering slightly over the smaller woman with her fingers still on Maura's lips.

Maura stiffened, her eyes gone large and dark, and ever so slightly pinched at the outer corners. Her lips softened as if to open and speak, then stilled again. Gradually she stirred herself to nod, small and tight.

"Good." Jane slowly removed her fingers and settled on her side, facing Maura. "For the record," she said into the welcomed quiet, "I knew all of that stuff before you told me. Also," she yawned, "I bet I cuddle better than Dr. Schmuck." She growled again. "I'm pretty sure, outside of fixing people, I do everything better than him. Man, Maura, you should just let me... I don't know, at least key his car or something," she was ranting again. "I mean, 'just a forensic pathologist'? Really?" Her breathing was picking up speed as her thoughts raced around how anyone could so short change the doctor. "How could he..."

This time it was Maura's fingers, two of them, that silenced Jane. "Shh." Then came a smile so small, but so open and warm, that it could have easily started an earthquake, or started something, anyway, that would shake foundations. "You cuddle much better than Byron."

A grunt was the response followed by a nod and two arms snaking out to pull Maura closer to the lanky brunette she was currently silencing.

Pulled by the waist, Maura went pliant, emitting a little sigh as her body seemed to mold to that of her best friend. "So much better," she exhaled as she wrapped herself around her friend, falling asleep halfway atop her almost immediately, three months' worth of held breath and tightly clutched tension released in a wave of relief.

"Thought so," came the sleep heavy response as Jane quickly fell into her own peaceful sleep.

The sound was somewhat familiar. In Jane's half asleep mind, she recognized it as something that was important to pay attention to, but her body was resistant to the idea of moving from the supremely comfortable spot she was in.

Warm, cozy, and safely nestled in her bed, she had no want to give any attention to the sound. But, the sound persisted, and, as she slowly came fully to, she realized what it was. Someone was gently knocking on her bedroom door.

For once, Jane had the foresight to close and lock her bedroom door before going to bed, and, for once, her preparations had not been in vain. She smirked and shifted, nuzzling against Maura's neck as she readjusted how her leg and arm were wrapped around the smaller woman. "Not this morning, Ma," she whispered in a raspy exclamation of triumph.

From the other side of the bedroom door, the knocking became louder. "Jane!" Her mother's voice was muffed but clearly irritated. "You get up and open this door right now!"

"Nope, not going to happen," Jane murmured as she gave a contented sigh, body settling more heavily against her friend.

Beneath and around her, however, that friend was being knocked to awareness by the insistence of the woman on the other side of the door. "Zhhnn," she mumbled into the lankier woman's mussed mop of hair, not quite able to fully form the name, though she did get a little better at it with each knock and demand in that familiar, persistent voice. "Jhnn. Jnnn. Jane." Gradually her eyes flickered open, focused, and began to look around the room in which she had once again found herself. It was a pleasure Maura had missed, and she was loathe to have anything take away from it, but logic won out. "We have to let her in. She'll just stand there, getting madder and madder." Still, she made no move to disentangle herself. Any will to allow Angela into their space – no, Jane'sspace – would have to come from Jane herself.

"Janie? I can hear you in there talking to somebody. Is that Charles again?" Knock, knock, knock. The woman would not let up.

"Damn it," Jane growled as she reluctantly rolled off Maura, slipped from the warmth of her bed, and opened the door with a violent thrust. "What, Ma?" She grumbled under her breath as she stomped back to bed and slid back from whence she came, not caring what the position may look like to her mother.

"Jane? What's going on here?" Angela's voice was loud and demanding in the quiet peace of the bedroom.

"Sleeping," Jane shot back as she resettled against the small woman.

Though her face expressed a certain level of anxiety in Angela's direction, Maura's movements offered no hesitation as she permitted Jane right back into her embrace, just a little resettling, and she did move the sheet back over the leg that had worked its way free during the night. "Good morning, Angela," she said with a tentative smile, or perhaps it was more of a friendly wince. Quickly, she cast about for a reason for the elder Rizzoli's state of upset. "Did the gardener forget and leave the sprinkler on outside the guest house door again?"

"What? No!" Angela stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at the two women. "Jane and I were supposed to finish cleaning up this... this," she motioned around the room, "pigsty, and I come in to find her in bed with someone... again!" Eyes wide, voice booming, the older women walked around to the side of the bed her daughter had just crawled in on. "Jane, what is going on here? Are the rumors true? Why didn't you just tell me, and... and... Maura," her eyes flicked to the other woman, "how could you let her," she made a pointed gesture to her daughter, "sleep with Charles?"

Jane grunted and pulled the bed sheet over her head, not bothering to answer her mother's questions or even acknowledge that she was being ranted at by Angela. Instead, the younger Rizzoli curled closer around her friend, tucking the sheet firmly over her head.

Maura's jaw dropped and her eyes widened. She glanced towards Jane, but finding her sleeping companion hiding, could do nothing but respond for her. As usual, she relied on known facts, idly rubbing Jane's shoulder as she calmly explained, "Sex releases endorphins, oxytocin, Immunoglobulin-A, and a plethora of other chemicals in the brain and body that contribute to good health, relaxation, a strengthened immune system, and interpersonal trust. Jane didn't have sex with Casey, but if she had, I'd have said good for her."

After a moment of simply looking incredulous, Angela started to sputter, protest, question. The latter had her finger pointing accusingly from one woman to the other, scarcely articulate enough for Maura to really discern what the actual questions were, so she had a hard time answering, or not answering, or even knowing which was more appropriate. "Jane?" murmured the barely-clad friend through the tirade, nudging her gently but in earnest. "A little help, please."

With a quick jerking motion, Jane sat up, throwing the sheet off her head and giving her mother a death glare that would scare the biggest and baddest of perps. "Oh my God, Ma!" She snapped, "I didn't have sex with Casey, and I'm not having sex with Maura. She spent the night because it was late, and I locked the door because I knew you would do that thing you always do and just walk in on me and, for once, I wanted to actually sleep." She glowered at her mother. "Nothing is going on with me and Maura. We're just friends, Ma, so you can just stop it now."

"Since when did you lock the door when Maura was over 'just to be able to sleep in'? Huh? I'm your mother, Jane. Don't lie to me. You think I didn't know about Sally Connolly?" Angela set one hand on her hip, the other gesturing wildly. "If you two are seeing each other, just tell me, and we'll deal."

"Ma..." Her daughter's voice was full of warning. "Just stop."

"Don't 'Ma' me, Jane Rizzoli. I'm tired of you keeping things from me. You know I have always told you that you could come to me with anything, and I can't believe you'd just..."

"No. Just no. Don't do this to me. Don't fu..." Jane glanced back to Maura. "Just... stop." With another hard look to her mother, Jane slipped out of bed, brushing past her mother. "I'm not doing this." She winced, grabbing her side as she made her way to the bathroom, shutting the door with a solid slam.

Thoroughly heated by now, Angela turned back to the bed, where Maura still reclined in one of Jane's tank tops, hair mussed as only vigorous sleep or vigorous sex could make it. "All right, missy. My daughter can lie to me, but I know you can't. What's really going on here?"

"I missed Jane, so I came over and made her dinner."

It sounded so simple, but Angela knew that wasn't the last of it. She crossed her arms and waited.

Maura's lips pursed as she sorted out what to say, what would satisfy this demanding person. "We sat and talked, and it got late. Jane asked if I wanted to stay so I wouldn't have to drive home."

Angela's foot began to tap.

"So I did."

Angela's eyebrow arched.

"And now you're here, and I'm sorry we didn't open the door right away." It wasn't enough; Maura could see that yet more information was needed. "It's just that Jane hasn't been sleeping well, and neither have I, and did you know that it's much easier to sleep with another person than alone? It has to do with biorhythmic resonance. Another person's heartbeat, breathing rate, and warmth..."

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Angela finally exploded. "Are you sleeping with Jane?"

Maura's head tilted in honest puzzlement. "I just told you I slept here."

"Maura!"That howl, that soul-deep frustration, that Jane exhibited so often, this was where she got it. Angela did it just as well, and with even less provocation, at least as far as Maura could tell. "Are you having sex with Jane?"

And all Maura could do was turn red.

"I TOLD YOU NO! WE ARE NOT HAVING SEX!" Jane bellowed at her mother as she reentered her bedroom, hair pulled back and face freshly washed. "What do I have to do to get you to stay out of my personal life, huh? I mean, really? Get out, Ma."

"Jane, please, don't fight. This isn't necess–"

"Don't you take that tone with me, Jane Rizzoli. I am your mother..."

"Who has completely overstepped her boundary lines! I've told you over and over that Maura and I are just friends, and you just keep at it. We're not in a relationship, and, ah! Dammit!" Jane grabbed at her side, eyes burning with angry fire. "Get out, Ma," She was practically bent over with pain. "Get out now, and I'll call you when I don't want to shoot you." Grunting, Jane staggered to her bed and fell over on it, clutching at her side. "Maura," she pleaded through gritted teeth, "Make your house guest get out of my house."

She had been so close to chastising Jane for showing such animosity towards her mother, but as pain caused her friend to double over, Maura leaped from under the sheets to tend to her. "Lie on your back. Let me look, Jane. Can you straighten out? Angela, could you please go into Jane's bathroom and get out the prescription bottle of ibuprofen on the middle shelf of the right-hand side of the cabinet?" Though the problem was likely psychosomatic, fetching analgesic would get Jane's mother out of the room for a few minutes – because there was no such bottle in that location – and also give her something constructive to do, hunting for something to help her daughter.

When she heard no response, the physician correctly surmised that Angela had gone to do her bidding, and so she turned her full attention back to Jane, speaking more quietly and soothingly. "I'm here, sweetheart, what happened? What are you feeling right now, besides your wound? Can you talk to me?"

"I'm pissed, Maura," Jane spit out between hisses of pain. "Quit babying me and get her out of here." Jane threw her head back, eyes rolling back for a moment. "Now."

"Okay, I will," Maura promised, looking pained herself at having to get up and walk away from Jane in her torment. But she did so, heading into the bathroom where Angela still kept up her futile search for the non-existent ibuprofen.