"What we call 'Progress' is the exchange of one nuisance for another nuisance." - Havelock Ellis

Twenty hours later.

Jane's thin long fingers wrestled with the top of her third beer bottle of the night, cursing her fingers for being so damn clumsy. She knew her ineptitude had something to do with the three beers, two shots, and stolen gulps of her partner's drink. Barry had been too busy flaunting his profession to a woman with a nice rack. That was the only quality Jane could point out about that woman that she found marginally enticing. God damn that bottle top for being so difficult to finagle. The brunette was rescued by the amused bartender that normally served her whenever she came to the Dirty Robber.

"Thank you." The off-duty detective's voice had been filled with appreciation. Her excessive drinking were celebratory drinks but also for the excessive amount of deplore to the fact that she missed her best friend Maura Isles more than anything she ever missed in her life. The brunette gathered the bottle from the granite bar top and brought it to her lips.

"I hear you're also a detective." The pal of the dumb broad Barry had been chatting it up with said. "Most men would find that threatening. I find it to be...sexy."

"Let me guess," Jane drooped her head, pulling the bottle slightly away from her lips. "You'd love for me to interrogate you. You'd love for me to use my cuffs on you any time?"

"Basically." The male blonde shrugged with a faultless smile. Jane licked her lips, irately, getting ready to hand his ass right back to him. But, before she could say something to him she thought about it for a moment. She did recently discuss ways to deal with her anger for the ignorance and boldness of others with her therapist. She could either yell at the bastard for even attempting to flirt with her or she could simply and politely decline his invitation. Which seemed exciting to Jane? Yelling at him, of course. She would rather raise a thousand hells. The well framed woman took a few breaths before saying something to the waiting stranger. He seemed patient. Too patient. He was confident he'd be going home with Jane and that didn't sit right with her.

"Look," She turned to him, setting her beer down on the napkin she used as coaster. She'd picked up the habit from visiting Maura's house far too often. The honey-blonde always badgered Jane about them and she would be too lazy to always have to go get a coaster so eventually she just used the same napkin. She'd unfold it and used the limited surface of the napkin as a limit to cut herself off when she ran out of room. "Unless you've got a nice smooth pussy in those jeans of yours." She used the tilt of her head to point. "I'm going to have to decline, respectively." Her ironic words made her want to laugh but she held back her amusement.

"You're a dyke?" The male asked, his face changed to a dark red. Jane couldn't decide if it was because of her declination or because he'd been ireful of learning why she wouldn't go home with him.

Jane nodded, sure he wouldn't try anything with her. He pointed out himself that she was a detective, she only hoped he wasn't stupid enough to irritate her. "Yup." She clucked her tongue. "Is that a problem?"

"It's a sin!" He sneered, just loud enough to turn the head of the dark detective who would protect and defend his partner until his dying day. He turned to Jane, trying to look over the shoulder of the tall, angry man in front of her.

"Oh, and I'm sure picking up women in a bar is on the list of demands for being a truthful follower of God." The brunette defended, easily. She could take this guy, he wasn't taller than her. He had no build to him whatsoever. He was just bones and even though that was the same description Angela Rizzoli used to describe Jane, it wasn't entirely the case. She looked weak but Jane was much stronger than her mother gave her credit for. She slid off her barstool to give herself an ease of advantage. She wouldn't be bullied, not anymore. She wouldn't take shit from anyone and she had a very willing partner there to back her up. Hell, even the men at the booth behind him would back her up, despite their own cynical beliefs in Jane's ability to do her job. She had a lot of police officers and detectives there to help her take down any clown that stepped to her.

"It's disgusting!" The nescient man proclaimed. "I could probably fuck you better than some butch dyke could. I suspected as much when I saw you and that black guy kept saying you were his partner. I needed a fuck so I was willing but I guess I was right then."

"Guess you were." Jane turned, deciding against her better judgment to knock a hard knuckle right in his nose. The brunette grabbed her blazer and turned her head over her shoulder to find her partner. She noticed an arm swinging her way and immediately ducked. Completely missing his target, she noticed crash of the man into the bar. "You just swung at a detective for the police department, buddy." She said with a wicked smile that she got when she really loved her job. Her cuffs were from her holster in seconds and Barry had been there holding the man in place.

"Really bad move, man." The dark man advised with a smile. "You just pissed off the baddest detective in Boston."

"She turned me down!" The bony man exclaimed, struggling against the cuffs that were shackling him. The partners ignored the angry protests. "She's a fucking dyke, man! I can't go down like that!" The brunette quirked an eye-brow in his direction. They'd been dragging him out of the bar now. Jane had wanted to take the car but they knew they wouldn't have time for that so they decided to just walk the asshole back to the precinct. She knew she'd be spending the next hour throwing charges at him and in the morning, whatever ones that stuck would have to wait to suffice. If any stuck at all. Some judges were still belligerent on the subject of gays. Jane wasn't too thrilled with the fact that she was back at the precinct now. It was a Friday night and she was sure she would've been going home with some woman she found at the bar for a celebratory fuck to go along with her drinks.

"Back so soon detectives?" The uniformed officer asked, tailgating the two. Jane let Barry continue on with the violent man as she stuck near the entrance of headquarters.

"Yeah," She ran shaky fingers through her dark locks. Shaky hands were common when she tried to hold her anger in nowadays. Her therapist had suggested she talk everything out so when she agreed not to throw punches when someone pissed her off, her hands quaked from withdrawals. They'd been so used to being pressed against someone's face when she was angry, they didn't know what to do with themselves now.

"Janie," The brunette heard from the cafe behind her. She already knew who it'd been. A familiar voice she doubted she'd ever be able to forget. The voice nagged her so much growing up – and even now as an adult – it was permanent in her head.

"Ma." She turned, unwillingly. Angela had a reputation for being an overwhelming mother and all Rizzoli's except for Tommy just about hated it. Even their now-absent father, Frank Sr. hated to be smothered in love by Angela. But if she wasn't smothering you in love, she was yelling at you for all of the things you do wrong. Jane's sure she did everything right this time. Instead of getting into a fight, the brunette just arrested him like a normal detective would have. Instead of saying anything rude to him other than the rude way to revealed her sexuality, she would say that she did pretty damn good. Better than she would have been doing two months ago. No one around here ever noticed her changes. No one knew she'd been taking therapy.