"So are you in some kind of trouble with the law, or did you literally fuck the police?"

It was almost noon and Maura had just emerged from her bedroom with a bad headache and bleary eyes to see her sister Cailin in the living room, reading a magazine. Heading for the kitchen cupboard of pain relief meds, she mumbled, "What? And follow-up question, what're you doing here?"

"You said I could visit today on my way back to mom's," Cailin said, still flipping through People. "I know we said tonight, but dad's new girlfriend was at his place and I can't stand her so I peaced out early. I left at midnight and got here around three."

"Do they even know you left?"

"I left a note," Cailin said impatiently. "Anyway, a police car was pulling out of the driveway when I turned down your street. So?"

Maura's head felt woozy after knocking it back to swallow some pills, but mental clarity was starting to come back to her. "You saw a police car leaving my house at 3:00 in the morning and didn't come in to see if I was okay?"

Cailin laughed and put down the magazine. "Oh, I tried! I poked my head in your room, and you were like dead asleep. I didn't see an ambulance anywhere and you weren't like hooked up to an IV or anything, hence my initial inquiry."

She thought Maura was just weighing how much she wanted to tell her, but then she asked, "And what was that again?"

"Did you ride a horse naked around this campus, too, and get into some kind of trouble with the law or did you fuck the police?"

Maura choked on her water. "Oh, goodness. Um… well, Katie's bachelorette party got a little out of control. Nothing crazy," she hastened to add, seeing Cailin's eyes widen. "We were just very loud very late. A cop showed up and sort of ended the party, and I was too intoxicated to drive, and… oh, we needed Uber pools but then there wasn't enough room, so the policewoman gave me a ride."

"A ride huh?" Cailin asked, pumping her eyebrows.

Cringing, Maura set about making coffee. "No, nothing happened."

"But you wish it had," Cailin prompted her.

"I'm afraid I may have hit on her extensively while I was under the influence." She sighed. "That's attractive, right?"

And then all of a sudden, she remembered a scrap of paper under the glass of water on her nightstand. It was usually an impeccably spotless place, but she hadn't thought much of it when she'd first gotten up. Maura raced back to the bedroom, and oh bless, that was indeed a note she had glimpsed earlier:

Hi, Maura—

Hope you slept well! Those mornings after can be a doozy. I really enjoyed getting to see you again, and wouldn't mind if it were to happen on purpose without the noise complaint aspect. If you're interested in meeting up again on purpose sometime, hit me up.

And there was her phone number…

Jane had never appreciated the phrase "waiting on pins and needles" as much as she did today, waiting for a potential text from Maura. She was glad she slept in late; it left her with less than two hours to kill before her shift, where she hoped work would distract her from obsessing over a message that might not even come. But it was no use: whether working out at home or parked in an empty church lot to catch speeding drivers, Jane almost had a heart attack every time her phone buzzed. She didn't know which was worse, the anticipation of a text or the mixture of disappointment and relief that came when a message turned out to be from someone else.

It would be easier to know which emotion to feel if she had an idea of what Maura was going to say (if she texted at all). What if Maura asked her out? It was a thrilling but terrifying notion. How could she go from years of being in the closet to taking a woman on a date out of nowhere? The thought of going out with a woman on a romantic date, in public, under judgmental eyes, was excruciating. What would her parents say? What would her brothers say? What would the guys at work say?

This all settled her with a more depressing question to wrestle with while she waited for a text. Maura would have to find it a huge turn-off to go out with someone so petrified at the thought of being seen with another woman, someone so green. Clearly Maura was out and had no hang-ups about it, as evidenced by her non-reaction to her friends' discussion of her orientation in front of a total stranger—who she had then been ready to pay for a lap dance. But what if she had just been too drunk to have the clarity of mind to be upset? Maybe she wasn't as full of bravado when she was sober.

Jane's stomach clenched with yet another consideration: what if she'd misread everything at the pharmacy and Maura was straight? What if she and her friends had just been joking at the party, exacerbated by booze, and she had just gone along with the gag when Jane drove her home? But no… right? She had to like women. Jane's mother had drilled into the kids over and over and over again that "drunk words are sober thoughts." Surely that meant Maura had to be at least bi-curious?

It wasn't until Jane was getting dinner around 9:00 that Maura had worked up the nerve to contact her. Given the nature of the text, Jane wished she wasn't sitting across from her mother when it came in. Her heart had done a flip at seeing a number instead of a name pop up, and then her heart just straight up started doing aerial flips when she read the text:

M: Hello, officer! This is Maura, from last night :) Thank you for your sweet note, I'd love to meet up sometime. I know you said you hoped noise complaints wouldn't be involved this time, but I think it'd be a damn shame if we couldn't get at least one of my neighbors to register one ;)

In an instant Jane's face was rose red, and her mother didn't fail to notice. "Who's that?" she asked, as Jane fumbled to slip the phone in her pocket to keep Angela from seeing it.

"Nothing. Nobody."

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli, for a cop, you're a lousy liar."

Jane's blush deepened as she felt her phone vibrate twice more. "It's—Casey. He just can't seem to, um, handle the ditch. The break-up. Kinda being a jerk about it."

This bought her a couple of minutes of Angela ranting about how Casey was a horndog who'd done her precious baby wrong. She didn't feel comfortable chancing another look at her phone with her mother in such close proximity, and she just nodded and grunted along with Angela's exclamations. Jane squirmed when the phone vibrated twice again, and Angela's ranting was not enough to distract her from noticing.

"Is that him again? Why don't you just tell him off?" She gasped and lowered her voice. "Is he—what's it called?—is he sexting you?"

"MA!" Jane barked, jumping up from the table. "Ew, no! I've got it under control, just butt out! It's fine!"

She went to a not-terribly-sexy but at least assuredly private place: a bathroom stall. In reviewing Maura's first text, she barely had a chance to get excited/mortified because of the follow-ups:

M: OH GOD IGNORE THAT

M: I've never sent an all-caps text in my life; that's how critical it is to me that you know my sister thinks she's hilarious and saw your note and decided to text you for me.

There then followed a picture of a sullen teenager folding her arms and wearing a sign around her neck that said, "Collar of shame for sending an inappropriate text to a stranger while pretending to be my sister." It was accompanied by the final message: Seriously, I am SO embarrassed. I wouldn't blame you for not replying, but I really hope you will. I'm setting up a passcode for my phone so my sister won't be able to masquerade as me again and trick you into thinking I'm more scandalous than I really I am. And lest you doubt this is in fact Maura: you were wearing a suit with a green bow tie at CVS and described your hair as a briar patch.

Jane reread the stream of messages at least five times, which was how long it took her to realize she was—to borrow another cliché—smiling from ear to ear. Relief poured over her: Maura wasn't the cool, collected person she had somehow dreamt up since their semi-awkward encounter at CVS. She was a little unsure of herself too, it seemed. She used semi-colons and fancy vocabulary in her texts. What a cutie.

Several minute slater (and still in the privacy of the bathroom stall), Jane composed a reply that didn't make her entire body want to fold in on itself:

J: Hey, I've been hoping to hear from you! :) That was a bit of a roller coaster—but a good one! How're you feeling today?

After staring at her screen a few moments Jane was about to put the phone back in her pocket, but then she saw an ellipses and her heartbeat picked up again.

M: I'm feeling very well, thank you. That was so thoughtful of you to get me home and leave out the water. Did you clean up vomit from the driveway? I could've sworn I threw up there, but maybe I'm mis-remembering.

J: Oh yeah I did that before I left. I borrowed your hose, I hope that's ok.

M: Oh my gosh, what a stud in shining armor :)

Jane was glad no one was around to see her blush this time. Which emoji could properly convey the nervous excitement such a compliment had elicited? Jane was about to go with finger guns when another text came through:

M: Before I make too much more of an ass of myself, I think I should clarify—are you interested in women, or was I just projecting? Because I am very, very gay and I think you are very, very sweet and very, very beautiful, and I'd like to go on a date with you. That's presumptuous of me, I know—I'm not sure if that guy at CVS was your boyfriend or brother or friend or what. I'd love to hang out platonically, too, if you'd be more comfortable with that.

This had to mean Maura hadn't seen Casey suggestively wave condoms at Jane in CVS, and also meant she'd forgotten their conversation last night where Jane had told her about breaking up with him. She wasn't sure if that was a relief or a setback, but she supposed part of what had made her so open to disclosing all that to Maura had been the assumption that she wouldn't remember it the next day.

For her part, Maura was much braver in writing than she was in person. Though she did tend to be forthcoming by nature, she couldn't imagine being quite so bold and blunt to Jane's face. She also kind of figured she had nothing to lose after Cailin's incredibly distasteful meddling. But maybe she'd still come on a little too strong. That, at least, seemed like a logical concern when four minutes had passed without a response. Yup. She'd gone a step too far and that girl would never want to see her in any capacity ever ag—oh wait, here came a response.

J: Sorry, I don't mean to leave you hanging! I just wasn't expecting you to jump right to the chase like that but maybe it's for the best that you did. I've only talked about this to one other person before but I like women. I've never acted on it before. I don't know if I'm a lesbian or bi or whatever but I do know that in a perfect world, I'd be at your front door with flowers to pick you up for a very public date. But idk if you'd want to waste your time pursuing a closet case and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't.

Following Maura's lead, Jane didn't find it as intimidating as she'd have thought to be so open, although she did wish she hadn't come off sounding so pathetic. Again, texting made it easier to be more direct than a face-to-face conversation, especially texting a stranger—someone she could cut out of her life with no trouble at all if needs be. But oh, how she wished it wouldn't come to that.

She was holding her breath waiting for a reply, wondering if she should elaborate or apologize or if she'd already said too much. Whichever the case, she wasn't sure how much longer she could stay shut up in the bathroom without someone wanting to know where she was.

M: Well you said you like women, which implies you aren't a closet case, just closeted. Very different. At this point, I wouldn't regard any time I spent with you as wasted. Maybe I could be a helpful person for you to talk about all this? No judgment, no expectations. Are you free tonight for drinks by any chance?

A follow-up: I promise I won't get drunk this time! And I don't mean it has to be a date, either.

Jane had to lean against the stall for support. This was surreal. I'm sorry, I work until 2am tonight and then I really need to get to sleep. Maybe Monday? I have the whole day off. What's your schedule like?

M: ABC Party at night, but I have a break between classes from 1—4. How would you feel about meeting me for coffee on campus?

It sounded much better than the thought of meeting up at a bar—they'd actually be able to have a conversation without shouting over music or a game on ESPN. It was also much less likely their conversation would be overheard by someone who knew Jane or any of the Rizzolis. After Jane sent an enthusiastic request for a time and location, Maura was prompt with her answer.

And just like that, all the anxieties she'd been carrying around all day disappeared. Why hadn't anyone ever told her how easy it was to set up things with girls? Psh, what a breeze!

Jane didn't realize how widely she was smiling until she strutted back out to the hallway and immediately locked eyes with a little old lady who'd been standing in the hall when Jane had first gone in to the restroom (Jane didn't ask, but she was waiting for her son Stanley's shift at the café to end). Her arched eyebrow arched even higher at the smile Jane was incapable of suppressing.

Feeling an inexplicable need to give this woman some sort of explanation for her lengthy restroom interlude, Jane declared, "Pooped! Been constipated all day and it's finally over! Yeah! Hallelujah!"

The old woman didn't crack a smile, even as Jane moonwalked down the hall with an open-mouthed grin she still couldn't quell.