A/N: So... there's something a bit sensitive that gets dealt with at the end of this chapter. I tried to do justice to the characters and the time period and hope it came off all right. It was really difficult to do, but I didn't want to ignore it anymore.

They were both breathless and a little more sweaty than usual as they recovered from their first go at ravishing each other someplace aside from the bed. It was only after the fact, during this moment of quiet contemplation, that Maura realized how reckless that had been. It was the middle of the afternoon and she was lying stark naked on the living room floor of the house she owned with the shirtless woman lying next to her whose trouser buttons were undone. Nobody, not even family, had ever just waltzed into their home without knocking, but still—there was a first for everything. And without any sheets to cover her, Maura felt particularly vulnerable.

"Jane," she whispered, rolling onto her side and placing her hand on Jane's stomach. "We should get dressed."

"You tired of lookin' at me already?" Jane teased her.

"Oh heavens, not that, not ever that. What if someone comes to the door?"

"We'll tell 'em to go away," Jane husked, leaning over to kiss the pulse point on Maura's neck.

This elicited a breathy moan from Maura, and Jane couldn't help grinning to herself. She loved how easy it was for her to get those kinds of sounds out of the refined Dr. Isles. In every other aspect of her life, Maura was tidy and generally soft-spoken. But when Jane caressed her skin with a few fingers or her tongue—and especially if the touching went beyond a caress —Maura would start sounding primal. It contrasted so heavily with her typical demeanor, and Jane loved being the only person who could get those noises out of her.

There was also something about the way she looked. Even when the heat outside was blistering, Maura somehow managed to look well-composed. Her hair would be pulled back or swept up, rarely out of place. Persistent fanning or a few dabs with a handkerchief would rid her face of excess moisture. Once she'd been through the throes of passion, though, it was a different story: her hair was down and stuck to the sweat gleaming on her face; her eyes would darken and her lips would get a bit swollen.

"Not again, not right now," Maura groaned when Jane started moving against her. "I've got to get dinner started—and I should probably bathe, actually. You could stand to, as well."

"Hell no, I just did!" Jane laughed. "Besides, Maura, I like smellin' like this." She snatched Maura's dress out of her loose grip and growled into her ear, "I like havin' the privilege of smelling like the animal in you."

They didn't get around to dinner quite as early as Maura had anticipated.

When they did finally sit down to eat, it was at a table Jane had set for a meal she'd made while Maura had taken a bath. For a few moments they ate in comfortable silence, until Maura decided she wanted to bring up something they had been discussing earlier.

"It could be like our honeymoon," she said quite out of nowhere.

"Hm?"

"If we went to Boston. It could be…like a honeymoon," Maura said, blushing a little under Jane's gaze. Maybe that suggestion sounded even sillier spoken out loud than it did in her head.

But Jane had only been thrown by the sudden conversation topic, and smiled when she got Maura's meaning. "I think that'd be a right nice idea, darlin'."

"And I…I want you to come as my husband."

Jane reached across the table and took Maura's hand, rubbing a thumb along her knuckles. This got Maura to look up from her plate, and she felt relieved to see Jane's subdued smile still in place. "I'd be honored to present myself as such to your old hometown," she said.

Maura grinned and leaned over the table to give Jane a quick kiss. "What would I call you?"

"You should probably stick with Jake," was the reply. "That'd be easier for you to say than if we made up a new name, wouldn't it? It wouldn't feel like so much of a lie for ya."

"Fair point."

"But not Wyatt," Jane said shortly. Even though it would just be pretend, Jane didn't like the idea of giving Maura an outlaw's name. Furthermore, Jane didn't want to associate herself with him now if she could avoid it. Noticing the apprehensive look on Maura's face, Jane tried to lighten her up by saying, "That wouldn't sound very good with your name. Maura Wyatt? Sounds terrible, don't it?"

"So…what about Rizzoli?" Maura asked.

Jane couldn't deny feeling her heart skip a beat. "You'd go by Rizzoli?"

"If you felt comfortable with it."

"I'd—I would love you to go by that, actually," Jane admitted with a hoarse laugh, taking Maura's other hand as well. "Mrs. Rizzoli."

Maura had to reflect Jane's smile at hearing the name, but it faded as the implications of all this sunk in. "But you'd be Jake," she said. "Jake Rizzoli." She dropped one of Jane's hands, sighing and rubbing her forehead. "I feel so torn, Jane. I want you to be able to just be yourself."

"Aw hell, Maura, I don't mind," Jane said. "And besides, if I go pretendin' to be Jake Rizzoli, that means there's a lot I don't have to hide. Folks will know I think of you as my wife. They'll know what it means when you've got your arm in mine, or I kiss ya on the cheek, or I tell you I love ya. I can hold ya however I want, I can look at ya however I want, and won't nobody think twice about it."

What Jane failed to realize was how often she did this in Hollow Creek. It was true that women could act quite familiarly with each other in public without raising any eyebrows. It was also true that despite how often Jane and Maura seemed to have their hands on each other in town, not many people ever wondered if there was something greater than friendship between them. What nobody doubted for a second was that Jane would lay down her life for Maura, and vice versa—something which, sadly, could not be said of every married couple in town.

"It'd be freeing in a way, wouldn't it?" Jane whispered. "It'd be so honest."

"I see your point, Jane, but it always seemed important to you that I recognize you for what you are. A woman, not Jake."

"That is important to me, Maura," Jane said. "But it only ever mattered that much when I kissed ya for the first time. I had to make sure you were… that you wanted me, not him. Y'know, that you weren't confused or nothin'. And you've made it pretty clear more than once where you stand," she said with a small smirk, getting a chuckle out of Maura. "That's all I ever wanted, sweetheart. I had to make sure it was me you loved, not somebody made up. Maybe other people wouldn't understand how we feel. Maybe they'd be afraid. But you know what I am, and who I am, and that's all what matters to me."

"It is?"

"Yeah. Let all them high-class folks in Boston think you went and rid yourself of Garrett Fairfield so you could marry the manliest, toughest, most rugged and fearless man the west had to offer!"

"Or that I tamed that man," Maura joked.

"In the only fight I was ever happy to lose," Jane said, holding her hands up in a sign of surrender. "Tell me though, Maura. How many fella's in Boston do you think'd try and take your hand now that they know Fairfield ain't in the cards anymore?"

"Oh, none of them, I should imagine," Maura answered casually. "I've told you before, Jane. Most of them think I'm quite strange."

Jane wasn't sure she believed this. She could accept that Maura would assume things were that way, but Jane was not naïve enough herself to think for a second that any man in Boston wouldn't at least try and edge his way into Maura's life. This reminded her: "Say, Maura. Tommy came by when you was in town earlier today."

"Did he?"

"Yeah. Brought those flowers on the table over there."

Glancing at them, Maura said, "Oh, really? They're lovely."

"He thinks you're lovely," Jane mumbled.

"That's sweet of him."

"No, Maura, he…" Jane sighed and put down her fork. "I reckon he'd like to court ya."

This seemed like such a hilarious idea to Maura that she actually laughed. "Jane, don't be silly! Tommy's been a good friend to me almost since I got here. Nothing more."

"Yeah, well, that's only on account of the fact that you been engaged for most of the time he's known ya."

Maura's smile faltered when she realized Jane was being completely serious. "Jane! It's just your imagination. Garrett has been gone for a couple of months now. Tommy's very straightforward—why wouldn't he have said anything?"

"I dunno, maybe 'cause he thought it'd be indecent to propose to you so soon after Fairfield left," Jane grumbled.

"Propose? Jane, don't exaggerate. Did he say something to you?"

"No…it's what he didn't say."

"Jane, Tommy loves you. He respects you. If his intentions were in fact to court me, why wouldn't he have just told you so?"

That was a fair point. "I dunno, 'cause he wouldn't want me gettin' upset or nothin'. Or maybe he's just bidin' his time to say something until he's sure I got roots here. Hell Maura, everyone seems to know if it weren't for you, I might not even be here anymore. In Hollow Creek, I mean. So… so maybe Tommy figures if you up and got married, I'd leave." She sighed, picking up a chicken bone and turning it in her fingers. "And I ain't so sure he'd be wrong. Or maybe…" She snapped the small bone in half, her voice lowering. "He thinks if he risked makin' a move on my best friend, I'd pummel him into kingdom come."

"Oh Jane, you wouldn't really, would you?" Maura asked. When Jane's only response was a dark glare, Maura said, "I still think you're being paranoid. If Tommy wouldn't be honest with you about his intentions, what makes you think he wouldn't tell me?"

This could also have been a good point, but considering Maura's occasional obliviousness of certain social cues, Jane could easily imagine Tommy trying to make a point and Maura missing it. Still, subtlety wasn't really Tommy's thing. "Maybe 'cause deep down he knows he ain't good enough for ya."

"And why wouldn't he be?"

"Lots of reasons," Jane answered, her petulance increasing. "I know the boy can play chess, but that don't mean he's smart—and you need someone smart. I mean, I may not be smart as you, but at least I'm tryin'. Tommy ain't got any ambition. Frankie's worked his way up to bein' a deputy while Tommy just lazes around 'cause Angela spoils him. Plus Frankie's said Tommy fancies himself a heartbreaker. Likes chasin' girls like it's a sport or somethin'."

"If it's so easy for him to find accommodating women, why would he be interested in me?" Maura asked with sincere curiosity.

"Because look at ya!" Jane cried. "You're beautiful and you smell like the color pink and you know how to play chess! Any fella'd have to be all kinds of crazy not to fall in love with you. You're just about perfect, Maura, y'know that?"

Sensing a lighter atmosphere was in order, Maura said, "Only 'just about' perfect? What are your complaints, Calamity Jane?"

Jane knew she was being mollified, but considering the source, she couldn't bring herself to mind at the moment. Feigning a thoughtful frown, she said, "You don't scold. You don't nag enough. And you look far too pretty in the mornings."

"I'll start work on those at once," Maura said with a grin. They resumed eating in silence for a few moments, until Maura spoke up in a more serious voice again. "Jane."

"Yes?"

"You know you're the only Rizzoli I've ever been interested in, don't you?"

That brought Jane's smile back in full force. "Yeah, honey. I know."

The next day, Maura wrote a letter to Charlotte Hughes which said little more than that she planned on returning to Boston as soon as possible with her spouse in tow. She was so excited about the prospect of showing Jane the east coast that she forgot to be sad about the fact that her father wouldn't be there.

That, actually, was how Jane convinced Korsak to let her go. She explained that this was going to be a very emotional trip for Maura, and as she didn't have many close friends in Boston, it would be good for her to have a friendly face around. This was true: Jane hoped that her presence would be comforting in some way, and possibly distract Maura from the sadness of selling her childhood home. Understanding and appreciating Jane's intentions, Korsak said she deserved the time off anyway.

Besides, Korsak reasoned that Frankie and Frost ought to be able to help him enough in Jane's absence. Maura had asked one of Dr. Callahan's assistants to come down from Green Forge to cover the town while she was gone, which helped her feel a little less guilty about leaving. The train ride alone was four and a half days one way, and Maura still wasn't sure how long they would be staying in Boston.

Maura was happy to do most of the packing herself. One of the first things she squirreled away in her trunk was the box of French undergarments, thinking it would be a nice surprise for Jane on their first night in Boston. She had also taken it upon herself to order numerous new ensembles for Jane through Adelaide that would help her blend a little more nicely into the crowd of Boston gentlemen—which included new shoes that weren't cowboy boots, ties that weren't bolo ties, and even a couple of refined hats. Jane was wary of the dandy apparel, but couldn't bring herself to refuse anything that brought such a smile to Maura's face. And nothing brought a smile to Maura's face quite like getting the chance to buy new clothes for Jane.

Jane had been helping somewhat in the packing process until the night before they were scheduled to leave town. While she was moving a heavy piece of luggage, Jo Friday had started yapping at a bird she saw outside. Normally this wouldn't have startled Jane, but she hadn't been aware that Jo was indoors and right behind her.

It was the sound of loud Italian swearing that caused Maura to come running into the living room, where she saw Jane sitting on the floor, grabbing her foot and looking pained. "Jane! What happened?"

"Aw, dammit," Jane groaned, yanking off her shoe to rub her foot. Nodding at the open front door, she explained, "I was gonna take this trunk out to the carriage, and then Jo started barkin' like a maniac and it took me by surprise. I kinda rolled on my foot, and then this thing fell on it."

"You dropped this on your foot?" Maura asked, trying and failing to pick up the excessively heavy luggage.

Jane nodded, gritting her teeth. "Son of a gun! This hurts like hell!"

"Let me see it," Maura said, getting on her knees and gently taking Jane's foot in her hand. "Does this hur—"

"OW!"

"Jane! Stop squirming!"

"Stop touching it!" Jane cried, wanting to sound annoyed but having to chuckle at Maura's expression. "It'll be fine in a second, doc, I swear." She pulled her foot out of Maura's grasp, but when she tried to get up, had to sit back down immediately. "Just… give it a second, yeah?"

"Sure. You ought to wait and see if it starts swelling or bruising."

Pulling an adorable pout, Jane said, "How do I make the pain go away?"

"Are you telling me that you, Calamity Jane Rizzoli, are hurting because you dropped a piece of luggage on your foot?"

"C'mon, doc, cut me some slack. I've grown weak on your watch, y'know."

"Mm, I make you, the great and mighty one, weak?" Maura asked, leaning in closer.

"Very," Jane murmured. She pulled Maura in for a kiss, threading her fingers through that golden hair.

"Is this helping?" Maura whispered against Jane's lips.

Jane grinned as Maura left a series of kisses across her cheek and down her neck. "Very much," she breathed just before Maura went to kiss her mouth again. "Mm… do you do this for all your patients, Dr. Isles?"

"Let's put it this way," Maura said, leaving a kiss on Jane's forehead. "You are far and away my favorite house call to make." She stood back up and offered a hand to Jane. "You ought to lie down for a little while, all right? I don't want you putting any undue stress on that foot for the rest of the night. I'll go into town and ask Frankie and Frost if they wouldn't mind helping us get the heavier pieces of luggage into the carriage tomorrow."

With Maura's help, Jane limped back to the bedroom and lay down. Maura took one of the hats she had yet to pack and put it on as she headed for the open front door. It wasn't until she had walked outside the house that she noticed Angela walking briskly away from it.

"Angela?"

But the woman did not stop or turn around at Maura's voice, even though she was close. Maura called out again, louder, and when Angela still did not reply, a sudden terrifying thought occurred to Maura. Their front door had been open. What if Angela had seen them together on the floor? What if she—oh, mercy, she must have seen something. Why else would she have come all the way up here, only to leave without saying anything to us?

Panicked, Maura deliberated for a minute or two about what to do as Angela got further and further away. She was sure if she went back to tell Jane, Jane would worry with her, perhaps without purpose. Jane would want to follow Angela and find out what she'd been doing up there and why she was leaving, but that would stress her foot more. Should I wait? What is Angela thinking? If she saw something, should I let Jane try to explain it?

Thinking became too much for her, and Maura found herself running down the dirt road after Angela. She was not wearing the proper shoes for it at all and was not able to go very fast, but she saw that Angela had just walked into the small building attached to Korsak's corral. When Maura arrived at its door, breathless and sweating, she knocked hard. A few moments of waiting brought no reply, and when the same thing happened after she knocked again, Maura opened the door.

She had never been inside before. Angela was standing in front of a wash basin filled with old water, a rag in one hand and a wooden plate in the other. Her eyes stayed down, though she was very much aware of Maura's presence. To say that this was unnerving to the doctor would be putting it lightly, especially when the only sound in the room continued to be her own labored breathing. Eventually she figured she was going to have to be the person to initiate conversation; Maura waited to catch her breath before finally talking.

"Angela… why… did you leave? Why didn't you answer when I called after you?" Still no response or acknowledgement of her presence. Angela started washing the plate, and Maura spoke again in a nervous whisper. "What did you see?"

Considering her silence up to this point, Angela's answer came quick and terse: "I saw my daughter in the arms of another woman."

The fear that had been coiled like a snake in the pit of Maura's stomach lurched up into her throat, momentarily blocking her ability to speak. Angela's tone had been scared, confused, and hurt. "Is… that all?"

"No," Angela said softly. "That wasn't all."

Now Maura wished Jane was with her. Jane would be able to smoothly lie their way out of this, she would come up with some excuse. She could think on her feet. Maura couldn't. "Angela—Angela, please… look at me."

It was the tears in Maura's voice that finally got Angela to look up. This moment felt real to neither of them. It was too sudden, too dramatic, too emotional. "What was that?" Angela whispered. "Maura—women don't …they don't kiss each other like that."

"Well we do," Maura heard herself saying.

Angela looked as shocked at the response as Maura did. "W…why?" she asked blankly. When Maura couldn't answer her right away, she tried to guess. "She was drunk? You feel lonely with Mr. Fairfield gone?"

"No, Angela, that isn't it," Maura whispered. But she could offer no further explanation. Her tongue was tied, her thoughts felt frozen. She was at an utter loss for words as fear consumed her.

Angela shook her head again. "I've never understood Janie. Not ever. But I've always loved her, Maura, in spite of her more odd qualities. But this…"

"I know it's odd," Maura said quickly. "And I know it doesn't seem… right… but…"

She was going to trail off anyway, but Angela held up a hand to silence her. She was visibly trembling now, her other hand at her mouth, tears falling from her eyes. "Jane thinks I nag her," Angela finally got out. "Sh-she thinks I want to change her. And sometimes I guess I do. But I won't ever forget, Dr. Isles, I won't ever forget the night the Sheriff found her and her father …I was the only one there when she woke up again."

This was a story she had shared with no one, and would not now with Maura, either. At least, not in its entirety. She couldn't help the memory passing through her mind, though.

She had worn herself out crying, by the time Jane woke up, Angela had used her tears up entirely. Or so she believed. When Jane's dark eyes fluttered open, Angela did her best to smile. "Hi, sweetheart."

Jane looked at her as though she'd never seen her before. Her chest heaved deeply; she winced and stared at her bandaged palms, blinked, and turned back to Angela. "Pop. He got my Pop." Her voice was dry, hoarse.

"Darling, I know," Angela said. She pursed her lips, remembering how Korsak had told her not to make Jane recount the previous night's evens, but what if Jane wanted to tell someone about it? "Janie? Do you want …to talk about it?"

Jane was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. A long silence followed Angela's question, and peering closer, the woman saw that Jane's chin was quivering. She finally spoke when Angela squeezed her arm. She managed to choke out the only word she could think of: "Lost."

"What?" Angela whispered.

"Lost." Jane slowly turned to look at Angela again, hot tears starting to well up in her eyes. With a short sob, the tears fell, burning her skin. "I'm lost."

It almost hurt when Angela pulled her into a tight embrace. Her tear ducts were suddenly active again with this crying orphan in her arms, no words of comfort coming to her as Jane sobbed the same phrase over and over: "I'm lost, Ma, I'm lost!"

A massive headache had come quite suddenly to Angela, and she rubbed her forehead. She still felt blindsided and confused by what she had seen, but those feelings were being ebbed away by what was in front of her eyes right now: Maura Isles, weeping quietly and nervously, red in the face.

"My Janie was lost for a long time," Angela said with no idea of how long their silence had lasted. "She went runnin' all over the country lookin' for answers, but she only found herself with you. That much I know. I may not understand it, but I know it. I won't ever …be able to tell you how grateful I am for that." With a heavy sigh, Angela returned her gaze to her dishes. "I don't know …I don't understand what sort of relationship you and Jane are in right now. You seem a little more than friends." She glanced up and nothing in Maura's face refuted her assertion. "I don't care to ever know or understand. You hear me, Dr. Isles? Don't ever tell me."

Her tone was soft, but the words made it feel like a heavy stone was settling into Maura's gut. "May I say one thing?"

There was a loaded pause before Angela looked back down at the basin and nodded.

"I don't know fully what it is either, Angela, and I certainly can't say that I understand it all the time. All I know is that it… feels more right than I can explain. Jane has given me so much and—and we need each other in so many ways."

"But Maura, what happens when you get married?"

Maura took a deep breath to steady herself. She couldn't lie. Her only options were to give into fear or sound courageous, like she hoped Jane would have her do. In a voice that was steadier than she felt, Maura replied, "So long as Jane stays with me, I won't be getting married, Angela. She fulfills my every need." Angela inhaled sharply, shutting Maura up—this was exactly what she didn't want to hear about. She looked up again at Maura, who appeared startled, even afraid.

Tears blurred Angela's vision when she spoke: "Look, Dr. Isles. The one thing in life that Jane deserves above everything else is happiness. I told myself I didn't care what it took to make her happy, so long as she wasn't hurtin' nobody. Dr. Isles… Maura …I ain't ever seen Jane so alive with joy than when I've seen her with you. So far as I can see, she ain't hurtin' nobody—in fact, since you come along, I'd say she's become a sight less dangerous!" They both laughed, although it was a nervous, hesitant sound. When Angela sobered up, she continued. "Dr. Isles… you're sweet. You're a lady."

"I'm good for her," Maura said, and Angela nodded.

There were so many more questions. How long had this been going on? Whose idea had it been? Was it the reason for the Mr. Fairfield's departure, or the other way around? Maura had a funny way of talking sometimes—when she said Jane fulfilled her every need, perhaps she hadn't meant it the way Angela had interpreted it. Women kissed their friends. Not that intimately, but maybe Jane wanted it because she was lonely. Maybe because she dressed and acted so much like a man, she was confused, and Maura was trying to help.

Or maybe… there was something real there. Maybe they had fallen in love in a way Angela had not believed possible.

Angela set down the dishrag and the plate, walking over to Maura and pulling her into an embrace to calm herself down if nothing else. Though she felt awkward returning it at first, Maura gave herself over to it, emotion overwhelming her, overwhelming them both.