A/N Honestly, if I were Angela, I'd react the same way. Of course, I'm the Tommy of my family so…

When she returned home she found Frankie and her mother sitting at the kitchen counter, both strangely serene. Frankie simply shrugged at her, obviously as bewildered to their mothers actions as she was. "Ma?" She questioned, reaching a hand out for her mothers shoulder, which got shrugged away. She looked up to her brother, who nodded his head towards the living room, and she and Maura followed him there.

"She hasn't said nothing, Janie. She just sorta nodded her head when I told her that Tommy'd been arrested. He's going to plead to one to three for the parole violation. At least, that was what he was planning on when I spoke to the prosecutor. Never even lawyered up." She gave a frustrated groan, looking at the baby holster in the corner where the kid was laying there staring at the spinning mobile above him, oblivious to the drama that was erupting around him.

She walked back to her mother, who was sipping a cup of tea like nothing was wrong. "Ma?" She tried again. "Ma, c'mon, I know we're all pissed at Tommy-"

"I'm not." The words were quiet, and left Jane puzzled.

"What?"

"I should, be, I know. I should be very angry with Tommy right now. Your brother – what he's done. But you know that the second that baby starts getting colicky you'd be driving over and dumping it on his doorstep the same way Lydia dropped him here." She frowned, but knew that it was true. She'd attempt to at least. "And this poor child deserves better than that. Tommy knew that."

"Wait, you're taking his side in this? You think what he did was noble?" She knew her mother had an endless amount of faith and optimism when it came to the youngest sibling, but even this was pushing it.

"No I don't. But I can understand why he did it. Your brother has never been one to make – wise decisions." Her frown deepened. "I think he's an incredible idiot for this, and I'm going to lay into him when I see him next, but I can understand why."

"Ma, he just willingly put himself in jail to get out of raising a child that's more than likely his. If it was hard enough for him to get a job before, yeah, having not just a felony DUI on his record but a parole violation for a second one is just going to make it a walk in the park. What was he thinking?"

"More like he wasn't thinking." Frankie opined. She could see the baby starting to fuss out of the corner of her eye and looked up at the ceiling, hoping for some sort of divine retribution to strike her down where she stood just so that she could get out of this giant mess that her life had become. Still, she plucked him from where he lay, cuddling him against her chest, one thumb gently stroking the peach fuzz that covered his head.

"Why did they have to rope you into this mess, huh?" She looked down at the child, speaking quietly to it. "You didn't ask to get put in this place. You didn't ask for your pop to be such a screwup. You didn't ask for your mom to be an incompetent ditz. You just ask for someone to feed you and change your diapers, and love you. I'm sorry that the people that are supposed to be doing that are more immature than some teenagers. Seriously, there are kids on MTV that do a better hash at parenting than your parents." She rocked him gently, completely unaware of the three sets of eyes on her, all of them in awe of the look she had on her face.

"Oh Janie-" Her mother was the one to break the silence she hadn't even realized had descended upon them.

"What?"

"If you could see yourself right now –" She rolled her eyes.

"I'd look like a frazzled woman with a baby that's not hers."

"Jane, you're going to hate me for this, but you looked like you were made to do that." She glared at her brother.

"Well, duh. I'm human, I'm pretty sure Dr. Smartypants over there can tell you all the reasons why a human looks like they were made to raise another human." She looked towards Maura for some help, actually wanting a googlemouth explanation to come pouring out of it. She really didn't like the fact that she, apparently, looked like a mom when holding the kid. She got none. "C'mon Maur, help me out here. Tell him all the stuff about evolution, and biology and all that crap."

Maura blinked, apparently lost on some train of thought, snapped back to attention by her name. "What?" She rolled her eyes.

"Nothing." She grumbled, looking at the other three people gathered in Maura's kitchen. "So, what now? Now that this kid's dad is out of the picture for the next one to three years –" She frowned at the thought. "And his mother is god knows where, what now?"

"Well, I guess you're stuck with him for the next one to three years." She closed her eyes, willing herself not to scream in frustration.

"Great. I was really hoping that I'd be able to pawn him off on the first available relative while he's still all nice and quiet most of the time, and the only time he cries is when he needs something." She sighed, attempting to suss out the causes of the kid's fussing. Well, the diaper was still dry, he was being coddled, which left feeding. She could feel three sets of eyes on her as she expertly maneuvered around the kitchen, one handedly filling a bottle and microwaving it, trying to figure out what had all three of the people gathered looking so shocked. "Ok, I can understand you two-" She pointed at Frankie and her mother, "Looking shocked that I can in fact, juggle a baby and a bottle. But you-" She pointed at Maura, "Have spent the last three days trading diaper duty with me. You should be used to this."

"You look – different." Different how? She wondered. She sure as hell felt the same. Stuck raising her brother's fuckup. She knew Maura well enough to know that no way to know for sure was enough to convince her that it was Tommy's. At least she hoped it was Tommy's. Nephew was one thing. Brother was another. At least if it was her nephew, she could explain it away a bit better than as to why a thirty-something woman had a week old baby brother. At least with no way to know for sure she could convince herself that this kid belonged to Tommy. No, she still felt exactly the same, only now she knew she was going to be stuck with this kid for at least year.

It was a fact that was grudgingly settling around her. She was going to be stuck with this kid for at least a year. The least she could do was make sure that when Tommy got out of the joint that he'd have a healthy kid. She wanted nothing more than to rip her brother limb from limb right now, but there was a slightly more pressing matter at hand. "Can you all please stop staring? It's a baby, it's not like you've never seen a woman with a baby before."

"No, but I've never seen you with a baby. You look good like that, sis."

"What, next are you going to tell me I look good in a denim dress standing barefoot in the kitchen?"

"Ah, the classic sign of femininity and motherhood-"

"Now is not the time, Maur. Besides, if either of us was the barefoot in the kitchen type, it'd be you"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you're y'know, the one that actually has any femininity."

"What sis, you trying to say you're the butch one?"

"Frankie, don't talk to your sister like that. Jane, you're going to make a wonderful mother for this child."

"Ma, when did you start smoking the good shit?" Angela merely looked at her. "Hopefully this stint in the joint will wisen Tommy up enough to actually be a dad when he gets out." She sighed, as she watched the kid gently suck at the bottle, wondering how the hell she managed to get into this mess in the first place.