As Maura turned into Jane's street, cartons of Chinese food and a bottle of wine on the seat next to her, it was almost 11pm. The autopsy had taken longer than she had anticipated and Parmenti and Summers' comments had ruffled her more than she cared to admit. All she really wanted to do was go home and have a long hot bubble bath, but something brought her back to Jane. Whatever it was, she was losing control of it and, truth be told, she didn't want to have to hide it anymore.

Collecting together the evening meal, she locked the car and slowly made her way up the stairs into Jane's building, not bothering to knock when she got to Jane's, she let herself in, glad to be 'home'.

"Where the hell have you been?" Jane was wild, her unkempt hair giving her the appearance of some insane cave woman.

Maura felt the fire in her stomach, she really didn't want to have to fight with Jane on top of the evening she'd had. "I even called you!" Tears streaked down the brunette's face, unbeknownst to Maura they were tears of relief. "You didn't even answer me, where were you?" Jane stopped, her hands planted firmly on her hips and she waited for Maura to reply.

Maura stared, agape at the reaction. "What the hell Jane?" In spite of her increasing anger, she set the wine bottle carefully on the table, pushing the mountain of mail out of the way. "I just walked in and you're screaming at me."

Jane backed up; the delicate fury that radiated from the honey blonde set her on edge. It was a tone she'd never heard from her friend before and it unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

"Maura, I'm….."

"Yes Jane, yes you, it's always all about you." Maura growled, a low hum in her throat that made her feel ill and empowered at the same time. "Have you ever thought that not everything is about you?"

"Maur, please… I didn't mean… I just…"

"I don't want to hear it Jane." She threw the Chinese take-out at her friends feet, "I'm leaving, I've had enough self-centred, arrogant bullshit for one night!" She turned smartly, covering the four paces she'd taken into the apartment in two large strides. "You don't even want me here so why should I bother?"

Jane followed as Maura strode out of the door, her head hanging in shame as she was sure she was out of Jane's line of sight.

"Maura please, I need you." Jane called after her, her panic and fear slamming her into an invisible wall at the threshold of her home. Tears shook her body as she spoke but she fought to keep them from her tone.

Maura paused in the hallway, glancing back over her shoulder. "Prove it." She whispered before turning and disappearing into the night.

Sliding down the doorframe, Jane sobbed. Her insecurity and completely unfounded sense of abandonment had consumed her since she'd awoken had near driven her completely insane in the time she'd had to consider why and where Maura had gone that was so urgent she couldn't even leave a note.

As the sobs subsided, Jane growled, a low and primal sound that started, she guessed, somewhere in her feet before gaining in strength and power before erupting from her throat. Getting roughly to her feet, she reached out, her hand hitting the bottle of wine that Maura had so carefully set down and launching it across the apartment. It smashed in a crimson flood against the kitchen cupboard and fired her further. Ripping up handfuls of unopened mail, Jane screamed as bills, letters and junk mail danced around her like confetti, littering the floor in her own ticker tape parade of fury.

There was nothing to say, no words she could form. Three weeks of pain, frustration and fear exploded from every pore and destroying everything in her path. She paused in front of the dummy Korsak and Frost had sent to her, its giant faceless blue form hanging there in mocking celebration of her weakness. With one final guttural scream, Jane Rizzoli gave in to the emotion that had threatened to overcome her and laid into the stuffed humanoid.

-/-

"Good evening Maura" Doctor Charles Beck greeted his friend and colleague warmly. "I'm surprised you called so late in the evening."

Maura hung her head, she didn't want to be here, she wanted to go back to Jane's and hold her until the world made sense again but she couldn't. Jane was going through enough without having to deal with her childish issues too.

"Good evening Charles." She offered a half smile as he held the door to his home open. "I appreciate this. Really." Stepping into the tastefully decorated hallway, she felt as out of place here as Jane did at all of the gallery openings she'd dragged her to. "I just didn't know where else to turn."

Charles guided her into the living space, offering her a seat and a tumbler of malt whiskey before sliding into his own well-worn leather recliner. He watched as she sipped the drink slowly; ice clinking softly against glass and echoing in the silence.

"What happened Maura?" he asked when she made no effort to speak.

Looking up at him, Maura's eyes swam with tears; she had no idea where to start. "I had a fight with Jane." She ventured eventually, her voice so small Charles nearly missed it. "I can't do this anymore."

Charles frowned. He'd known Maura Isles for almost fifteen years and in all that time, he'd never heard her so defeated. Sitting stoically, he waited for her to continue, having learnt that she would in her own time.

"I can't do this job without her." Maura sipped her whiskey, her nose crumpling up with each taste. "She's accustomed to the work place banter, the assumptions about us…." Her voice trailed off and she stared into the amber liquid as if searching for an answer.

"What assumptions are those?" Charles asked softly, his own voice dropping to match hers.

"And it's not like I didn't try and help her, she always puts her own needs ahead of mine." Maura sidestepped the question smartly, the last thing she wanted to do right now was get into her feelings for Jane. "I've tried to be there but she's so angry or stoic. I just don't know who I'm going to see each day. I just want my Jane back" A sob bubbled in her throat at the admission and she slid the tumbler onto the side table before holding her head in her hands.

"Oh Maura." Charles crossed the expanse between them and settled on the couch next to her, a strong arm wrapping gently around her shoulder. "She's going through a lot." He rubbed her back gently as he spoke.

Maura pulled back suddenly. "And I'm not?" she almost spat the words out. "I don't want to have to pretend that I don't hear what isn't being said all the time." Charles frowned as he searched the eyes before him; it was obvious she was trying to tell him something but her meaning was lost in her elusiveness. "I'm tired of no one coming out and saying what they want." Maura put it as plainly as she could think of, "but there are some people who need to not talk about our relationship."

Charles nodded as his whiskey clouded mind finally caught up with where Maura was, albeit scenically, heading with her thoughts. "Does it help that I don't think you're a lesbian?"

Maura fell back, putting as much distance between herself and the man she thought she knew as the couch would allow.

"You're not even listening!" she barked, "I'm not talking about sexuality." She slammed the glass onto the table, spilling the aged blend onto its surface. "I don't care that they think that we're flinging, I just want Jane to stop being so elusive and let me help her!"

Charles sat back and frowned. "Flinging?" A wry smile crept over his expression and Maura felt the same fire in her stomach. He wasn't laughing with her, he was laughing at her. "Does the vernacular really matter right now?" she got to her feet. "I'm sorry Doctor Beck, I don't think you're in a position to help me. You don't seem to understand people at all; in fact, I'd go as far as to say that your people skills are worse than some of my patients." She turned smartly and headed for the door.

As she slammed the front door behind her, Maura slipped from her shoes and crossed barefoot, to her car, throwing the Balenciaga pumps violently into the back seat before starting the car and heading aimlessly into the night.

Maura drove. It was all she could think of to do, to return home felt like a betrayal and yet she wasn't ready to face Jane or her temper. Since the shooting, Maura had seen her own bed only once and that had been the night Jane had returned home. After dropping her off at her apartment, Maura had returned to her own home and retrieved a 2005 Poderi Colla Barolo Bussia Dardi le Rose, a $50 bottle that she'd received as a gift from Angela on her birthday, and poured herself a large glass, and then another and another before falling into her own bed and finishing the remaining liquid.
When she awoke the next morning, with a pounding headache, it was all she could do to leap from the bed. The secret truth being that sleeping in her own bed, without Jane, made her feel lonelier than she'd ever anticipated it possible. Without Jane by her side, she had slept in either the guest house, the guest room or, more often than not, curled up on the couch.

Parking the car, she looked up at the building beside her. She knew she'd end up back at Jane's. Glancing towards the small clock, it told her, in its own unique neon way that it was 3am. She sat and watched the building for more than ten minutes, Jane's apartment was still well lit although she could see no sign of movement. Stepping silently into the street, she headed up the cold concrete steps and let herself through the main door, ignoring her brain's attempts to tell her all the horrible things that she could be standing in in her bare feet.

Resting her forehead on the front door, Maura listened closely for any sound that could indicate Jane was anything other than sleeping soundly. It felt to her like an hour had passed before she could push the key into the lock and twist the lock open. The sight before her crushed her heart. The apartment looked like it had been ransacked; pieces of paper littered the floor with gay abandon, the Chinese meal she had left on her previous visit remained on the floor, the cartons having been stood on, shedding their contents across the rug and the smell of the wine filled the air. Maura could see no glass but a cursory glance to the kitchen explained why.

On the sofa, Jane was sleeping fitfully. Her long limbs twitching as eyes danced behind closed lids. Her cheeks tear stained and red. Feeling the tug in her heart, Maura fetched a blanket from the linen cupboard before turning off the lights and nudging Jane gently back onto the sofa, making room for herself in front of the sleeping woman. As the heavy wool blanket fell over the pair, Jane's eyes fluttered open, unfocused, but the warm smell of cinnamon filled her nose, comforting her instantly.

With Maura back and now in her arms, Jane sighed happily, her arms wrapping instantly around the shaking doctor and sending her back to sleep. In the strong embrace, Maura finally felt her world falling back into place. For the first time that evening, she realised where she was meant to be.
The therapy would be hard on Jane that much she had known, but she had never anticipated it would be so hard on her to see her friend so broken and unsure of herself. Lying on the cramped couch, she sighed heavily. "Good night Jane." She yawned into the darkness.