So so sorry for the insane long wait on this update! Real life interrupted. And then some writers block happened. Now I'm somewhat back, however, and intend to finish this thing. I hope you are still interested to follow along :)

When I first returned to it though and tried getting back into it, I was surprised by some things. I noticed that the story I had initially planned 3 or 4 chapters for had moved way past my original plan, and that the final chapter that I've had written almost from the beginning, didn't really work any longer. That bummed me out a bit, and it was a struggle to find an alternate way. Rereading the posted chapters I also found myself questioning the whole obliviousness-thing I try to present, thinking it was a bit too un-realistic. That also threw me off a bit. Also, said obliviousness is without a doubt getting increasingly harder to write.

Maybe that's why this chapter felt particularly difficult to write, and I don't know how many rewrites, additions and cuts I have done. At some time I considered skipping it all together. Now, I've managed to get something together. I hope nothing of above issues will shine through, in this or upcoming chapters, and that their cluelessness don't seem too unbelievable to you all :)

Oh, and also, I want to thank everyone who have reviewed lately and pushed me to keep going with this story. I owe it all to you :)

And now, finally, I'm gonna stop talking…

"Isn't this nice?" Maura said, excitement evident in her voice, and pulled down a bowl from the kitchen cabinet. "Cooking dinner together."

"Uh- yeah-," Jane rolled her eyes as she, too, moved around in the familiar kitchen to gather the supplies needed for their dinner. "Like we haven't done that before, Maur. Like every other day for the last year or so."

Maura shot her friend a somewhat irritated look. "You know what I mean," she said, and before she really could stop herself, a wide, slight wistful, grin overtook her previous irritated expression. "Now we're roomies," she said, feeling happy just being able to use that new favourite word of hers.

Seeing her friend almost burst with joy, Jane couldn't help but smile as well. And who was she kidding - she found cooking dinner together today as nice as Maura. That was the reason why she'd suggested they would pull out the old Rizzoli cookbook her mother had shoved on her some years ago after all.

"And besides-," Maura then said with a bright smile, and glanced out over the kitchen. "We have never quite cooked such a feast for ourselves before."

Following her friend's eyes, Jane looked out over the slight excessive amount of ingredients and utensils that had piled up in the otherwise impeccable kitchen. It was going to be a feast alright. Probably another proof they were both a bit excited to make something special for their first dinner living together. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she got a chance to, Maura spoke again.

"And it's so exciting to finally cook something Italian with you Jane." She smiled and pulled out the cookbook that had already gained its place in its new kitchen, absent-mindedly letting her fingers brush lightly over the cover. "You know-," she then continued and carried over the book to the worktop. "I've always been intrigued by the strong historical influences in your family's cooking. How well your mother has kept and treasured all these old recipes, and implemented it into your everyday food. It really is quite interesting. Especially since the Italian cuisine is so particularly fascinating."

Jane grinned amused, and again she opened he mouth to reply but was yet again cut short when Maura went on, now rambling historical facts about the Italian cuisine.

And instead Jane rolled her eyes. Her friend was really on a roll. She had practically not stopped talking since they had left the grocery store. Not that Jane really minded it though. She knew that she often could appear impatient and annoyed by her friend's incomprehensible and often useless rambles, but in reality she really liked listening to her talk. Half of the times she hardly understood what she said, but still it could be quite nice. A nice background sounds if nothing else.

Noticing that her friend was approaching the end of her ramble, Jane turned her focus back to Maura.

"Isn't it fascinating that these recipes have been passed down from generation to generation, first written down by your ancestors somewhere in Italy?" Maura smiled excitedly and browsed through the many handwritten recipes in the cookbook. "And that we now can cook those same dishes that they did years and years ago?" She looked up at her friend, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Yes, it's very nice," Jane replied with feigned irritation. "Now hand me the pot for the potatoes."

Maura frowned, not at all appreciating her friend's impatience. She passed her a displeased look while giving her the requested pot. "Why do you always have to be such a buzz death Jane?"

Jane stopped with the pot in midair and looked at her friend, doing her very best to suppress the grin that was threatening. "A buzz death?"

"Yes."

Jane cleared her throat. "I think you got your terminology a bit mixed up there, Dr Death."

Maura tilted her head and looked at her friend in confusion, and Jane failed miserably at suppressing the grin that now inevitable was spreading across her face.

"It's buzz kill," she then explained patiently. "Not death."

Maura frowned embarrassed. "Well-," she then said, slightly annoyed at herself for her ever-going misrepresentation of popular terms. She shot her friend a somewhat impatient look. "You are one."

Jane smiled, unable to keep up her previous mock irritation. "Ok, I'm sorry," she then offered kindly and instead gesticulated towards the potatoes that was lying next to the stove. "So you ready to try out making gnocchi?"

Maura smiled widely, and together they went about to start their Italian feast. And for the following forty minutes or so they were fully engaged in not only the gnocchi, but also their other selected courses, inevitably chatting and bantering playfully with each other along the way.

"I really don't want to criticize your great grandmother's handwriting-," Maura then said with a frown as she studied the dessert recipe she had before her, "-but this is really unreadable." She really did find the Rizzoli family's cooking traditions exciting, but she couldn't help but be frustrated at the scribble in the cookbook that she was now forced to read. Because there was no doubt about it, Maura Isles was not used to those kinds of unclear directions. Especially when she couldn't quite tell if the instructions were in English, Italian or whether they were letters at all. She flailed her arms in the air, sighing impatiently. "How much flour am I suppose to add?"

Leaving the bruschetta she was currently occupied with, Jane walked up to her friend and resting her underarm on her shoulders, she slumped down against her. Leaning over her shoulder she glanced down at the cookbook.

Slightly surprised of Jane's nearness, but of course liking it all the same, Maura turned her head to look at her, her face now only inches away from Maura's. She let her eyes linger just a moment on her profile before turning back to the cookbook, pointing her finger at the unreadable text in the recipe.

"Yeah, bisnonna's writing can be a bit tricky," Jane replied to her friend's unvoiced question and left her position against her friend's back to instead walk up next to her. Knowing however that her great grandmother's recipes were more guiding that anything else – something that suited Jane perfectly well anyway, never being one to follow recipes very well – she took the container of flour and started to pour an estimated amount into the bowl.

But this only made Maura cry out in shock. "Jane!"

Startled by the outburst Jane jumped, almost dropping the container of flour on the floor. "God Maura!" she exclaimed and stared at her friend, trying to catch her breath. "What?"

"What are you doing?" came the shocked reply.

"I'm adding flour," Jane replied, still bewildered by her friend's outburst. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Maura stared at her in aghast, mixed in with confusion. "By just pouring?" she then said as if it was the most horrific thing she'd ever heard. "Without taking any measurement for the proper amount?"

Jane rolled her eyes, starting to realize where all this came from. Her scientific friend, following instructions and formulas to the point, was at it again. "C'mon Maura, it's not a chemical reaction. It's just some dessert."

"Of course it's a chemical reaction," Maura replied with still some of that impatience in her voice. "The molecules in the solid substances will react with the liquids and without the exact proportions the required equilibrium that is needed for the mixture to respond properly to the exposed heat in the oven will not be attained. Don't you know th-"

"Alright fine-," Jane interrupted before she would hear the whole process of how the ingredients would turn into a chocolate desert. "It is a chemical reaction. But it's not like we're mixing explosives for a bomb here Maur. It's torta di cioccolato."

"What differences does that make?" Maura replied, unable to see the point her friend was making. "We are producing a compound that will need specific proportions of the reactants to react properly. It really is no difference from any other chemical reaction."

Jane rolled her eyes, amazed how a cooking session could turn into a chemistry lecture.

"Ok, so obviously you need to join me more often when I bake-," she then simply said and didn't take too much notice to her friend anymore as she poured the sugar into the bowl in similar manners as the flour.

"Jane!" Maura exclaimed yet again and took her friend's wrist, stopping her for making any more, as far as she was concerned, damage to the mixture in the bowl.

But this time Jane couldn't help but laugh at her friend's antics. "Trust me ok?" she then said. "You wanted to make bisnonna's chocolate cake. This was how she made it."

Somewhat reluctantly Maura released the grip of her friend's wrist. "Fine," she said, sounding nothing but miserable to give in.

Jane smiled, and even though she knew she was by now only doing it to freak out her friend, she took another generous swift movement of the sugar. "And you can never go wrong with too much sugar," she said, a smirk threatening in the corner of her mouth.

"Jane, please," Maura said and again took her wrist, but could this time not stop from smiling as well. "I am willing to let you bake the way you are used to, but do you have to add that much sugar?" She shook her head in concern and looked at her friend. "Not that you don't have an impressive metabolism, but the amount of sucrose you already consume on a daily basis has dire impact on your dental hygiene, insulin levels and immune system - just to name a few of its many health hazards. You really shouldn't consume more sugar than necessary."

"C'mon Maura, you've already reproached me about my coffee today," Jane replied with a shrug. "You only get one of those a day." She poured some cacao into the bowl, before adding, "What does it concern you what I do to my body anyway?"

"It concerns me a great deal Jane," Maura replied, rather stunned that her friend would ever think otherwise. "You're my friend that I care for very much and when you obviously don't care for your health I will."

"And besides-," she then added and turned back to the baking, "you really have such an amazing body that I hate for you to destroy it. You really should treat it better."

When Jane didn't reply, Maura looked up only to find a very stunned face. "Really Jane-," she said as her eyes again went back to trying to read the recipe. "I have told you endlessly many times that I find you to be a very beautiful woman with an exceptionally well-proportioned body. You don't have to look so surprised."

But Jane was surprised. Or no, maybe not surprised – it was after all not the first time her friend had told her that she liked how she looked (no matter how hard Jane still found that to be) – but she was still a bit astonished. Or flattered. Or well, something. And as far as she was concerned, she was definitely not the good-looking of the two. Almost automatically she glanced down her friend's body, quickly confirming what she had always known. Maura Isles was quite the looker – anyone with eyes could see that. And before she really could censor herself, words came tumbling out of her mouth. "Well you're kinda hot as well."

And this time it was Maura who stopped with what she was doing. She looked at her friend, a smirk she hadn't really planned for, quickly spreading in her face. "You think I'm hot?"

Just realizing what she had said – and that 'hot' was quite different from 'exceptionally well-proportioned' – Jane swallowed nervously. "Oh c'mon Maur-," she said, trying to sound as casual as she possibly could. "It's not like it's a surprise that you're stunning."

"I'm- stunning?" Maura echoed, the smirk now having turned into a wide grin.

"Maura-," Jane looked up, and seeing the somewhat irritatingly pleased expression in her friend's face, she felt an annoying blush spreading in her face. "C'mon. You know what I mean."

Embarrassed she looked down, preparing herself for continuing teasing from her friend, but when her friend remained silent she looked up again. She was surprised when she this time found nothing of the previous playfulness in her eyes, but only signs of obvious musing.

She frowned confused, uncertain what to make of the expression. "What?" she asked slightly tentatively.

"Well, I-," Maura started, unsure of what to say. Regardless how amusing it was to watch her friend squirm in embarrassment, how tempting it was to continue to just tease her, she suddenly found herself only flattered by the compliments. Because even if she knew that she, herself, had never hesitated to vocalize her appreciation for her friend's appearance, she had never really heard similar reciprocating feelings from her friend. From Jane it was only sarcastic comments and quick jokes. She knew that it was often a way to cover up underlying seriousness though – Maura had learnt that after years of exposure and extensive studying – but she never really could know what was hiding beneath all that sarcasm. To hear such blunt honestly now really was refreshing. She looked up, a sincere look in her eyes. "Thank you Jane," she then said. "That's very sweet of you."

"Uhm- yeah, sure-," Jane mumbled embarrassed, suddenly finding the unreadable recipe particularly interesting. But the next second she again glanced back up at Maura, a slight worried expression on her face. "I mean, that's alright isn't it?"

Maura found her friend's uncertain eyes, and couldn't help but smile. "Us finding each other attractive?" she asked. "Of course."

Maura could never deny that she found her friend beautiful. She would even go as far as to say that she was one of the most beautiful women she had ever met. If she was entirely truthful she would even have to confess that if things were different, if they weren't friends and if Jane wasn't the most important person in her life, maybe she would even have considered the possibility of pursuing a more sexual relationship with her. But that was not what she wanted with Jane. Not now, not ever. She wanted her as her friend, her family. Not a lover that held no more meaning than the temporary company it brought; the various health and preferably pleasurable benefits the occasional orgasms gave. So obviously they could be friends that appreciated each others appearances; they had been so for years.

But seeing the insecurity still gracing her friend's face she continued reassuringly, "I'm sure plenty of best friends find each other physically attractive."

Somewhat absent-mindedly Jane nibbled her lip. She hated to confess it, but somehow she still couldn't entirely shake that worry about how close they were suppose to be – or not be. "I'm not so sure they do."

"No?" Maura wondered, a slight insecure frown starting to appear on her forehead as well. And finding herself unexpectedly keen to find an argument to her friend's statement, she licked her lips in thoughtfulness, automatically searching her mind for social references that could convince them both. "Well, obviously we do," she then finally declared, deciding it shouldn't be more difficult than that.

Jane looked at her friend and, somewhat to her own surprise, she found herself reassured. Just like that. Because of course they could appreciate their appearances. It wasn't that they necessarily found each other sexually attractive after all. Just good looking. And that wasn't anything wrong. That was a totally ok thing for friends to think. She was after all best friends with Maura Isles – just about everyone must think she was about the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. The woman was friggin gorgeous after all. So that Jane noticed was inevitable. And that Maura could reel off all kinds of nice things to Jane about her appearance was just a Maura thing to do. Or it was the medical nerd in her that simply appreciated Jane's rather well-trained body that not even Jane could deny she had.

But suddenly realizing her own uncharacteristic and escalating fret, she abruptly stopped. She rolled her eyes at herself, before slumping down slightly with her hand against the worktop.

God, this was getting tedious. This returning unease that they had overstepped, were overstepping, would overstep, some kind of line. That there was some kind of unwritten rule that told them they weren't allowed to be close and amazingly good friends – even if that was exactly what they both wanted. And lately it felt as those thoughts bugged her with whatever they did. Hell, they couldn't even give each other a friendly compliment without her starting to fret.

So shaking her head in slight irritation at herself, she forced her concerns away. Forced it far away, deciding there and then to forever push any worries and doubts away. Because when had she started to be concerned what other thought anyway, to do what was expected of her?

Almost a bit too roughly she slapped her hands against the worktop. "Ok babe, let's finish this thing," she then said and without a glance at Maura, she went back to their still unfinished dessert. "I'm starting to get famished."

Slightly surprised by not only her friend' obvious change of pace, but also by the affectionate term of endearment she'd of some reason decided to add to her statement, Maura looked at her friend. And for a moment she felt unable to do much than just look at her, a lingering smile in her face. "Yes," she then finally said. "Let's."

Letting Jane add the remaining ingredients to the desert, she walked over to take Jane's previous place to tend to the brushetta and gnocchi, and for some minutes they worked in silence. But then Maura suddenly caught Jane with her eye - and the completely unsanitary and horrifying things she was doing to the cake batter - and the previous silence was gone.

"Jane!" she exclaimed in shock. "What are you doing?"

Startled by the outburst, Jane jerked. "What?" she stared at her friend in confusion, her previously chocolate covered fingers just leaving her mouth. "I taste it to see if it's ok."

"You taste the batter, Jane! With your fingers!"

"Uh- yeah?" Jane replied. "What's the big deal?"

But when her friend only stared at her, seemingly too shocked to even formulate a reply, Jane frowned. "What? You've never done that?"

"No!" Maura exclaimed as if she'd just been asked if she had ever contaminated forensic evidence in her lab just for the shear fun of it.

"Not even when you were a kid?"

"Of course not," Maura replied, now more calmly as she briefly flashed back to her childhood. The whole idea of her being allowed in the kitchen and taking sample of the food with her hands was simply absurd.

"Man, you've been missing out." Jane shook her head and took another generous sample of the batter. "This is the best part with baking. When we were kids ma always had to fight us off so we wouldn't finish whatever it was she was making before she could put it in the oven." She laughed silently for herself, a particularly fond memory popping up in her head. "One year I actually think we did finish the whole batch of gingerbread she was making." Still with a wistful smile, she rolled her eyes. "God, she went crazy."

Maura smiled at the image, actually finding herself warming up about the whole concept.

"Try it," Jane then said and gave a nod towards the bowl.

"Oh- no, that's alright," Maura replied, and looked down at the batter sceptically. It was after all one thing imagining the Rizzoli family with hands deep in batter, but quite another thing doing it yourself. "I think I will wait until it's finished."

"Maura-," Jane laughed. "Live a little. It won't kill you. It's just some batter."

Maura looked up at her friend, a most dubious expression in her face, before again looking down in the bowl. Maybe she could give it a try, she thought. She was after all always appreciating the possibility to try new experiences, and it was just her and Jane so it wouldn't be too unsanitary. Because the chocolaty batter did look exceptionally tempting. With another brief glance at her friend, she very tentatively dipped two fingers into the mixture. But as if uncertain what to do with the sticky substance on the tip of her fingers, she just stared at it, feeling unable to bring it to her mouth.

Jane looked on amused, but then suddenly impatience run over her and before she really knew what she was doing she found herself grabbing her friend's wrist, and without the slightest bit of hesitation she took the chocolate covered fingers in her mouth.

Startled by the unexpected move, Maura froze and before she really could stop it she felt a deep blush spreading across her face. Somewhat bewildered she looked up at Jane, but as their eyes met, and the unfamiliar gaze they both found in each others eyes, panic flashed over them. A brief, confusing and alarming panic. But with her previous promises still fresh in her mind, Jane managed to dismiss it almost instantly. Still it was with a bit of forced exaggeration she moaned as she slowly withdrew the fingers from her mouth. "Yep-," she then grinned as she licked the last remaining chocolate from the fingers, and released her friend's wrist. "Still good."

Subconsciously grasping for something that could push her own panic away, Maura willingly and hastily let herself be reassured and caught up by Jane's playfulness.

"You didn't even let me taste it Jane!" she exclaimed accusingly and threw her a displeased look. And without another thought, and completely oblivious – or dismissive – to the loud beating of her heart, the slight shaking of her hand, she again dipped her fingers into the bowl for another try – completely mindless of her sudden unsanitary casualness of using the same fingers as previously as well. Careful to keep Jane's keen lips away this time, she quickly brought the chocolate to her own.

"Oh my god!" she then exclaimed in utter surprise, the previous slight awkward moment all forgotten, and stared into the bowl as if she'd just found the key to lifelong happiness. "That's delicious!"

Without giving it another thought she dipped her fingers for the third time into the bowl. "Why did I not know this?"

Jane smirked, albeit a bit surprised by her friend's change in character. "Because you're a germophobic neatfreak, afraid of getting your fingers dirty?"

Maura passed he friend another displeased look, before she couldn't keep herself from again reaching out for the batter. There was no denying it: she was completely addicted to the new discovery of chocolate cake batter.

"Ok, that's enough," Jane, however, interrupted and pulled her hand away, and instead she dragged her along towards their other projects. "C'mon, let's finish the gnocchi. The oven's not ready for the cake yet anyway."

Only somewhat reluctantly Maura let herself be dragged away, her eyes longingly set on the bowl full of chocolaty deliciousness. And it wasn't until some minutes later, when Jane was about to head over to the batter again and put it into the oven, that Maura's chocolate craving made its presence again. "Wait, I-," she said, a brief glance at her friend, before her eyes and steps without a doubt were set towards the bowl. "I'm just going to-."

"Maura!" Jane laughed, and grabbed her friend's arm to stop her. "You're gonna finish the whole thing."

"I'm not!" Maura defended. "I'm just going to have one last taste," she said, a pleasant smile now on her face, before she again started to make her way towards the batter.

But again Jane interrupted, now sliding in in front of her to block her way. She gave her a threatening gaze.

"Jane-," Maura laughed, patiently but unsuccessfully trying to get by her friend. But Jane didn't cave and after a game of feinting back and fourth, Jane had her cornered against the worktop, one arm on each side of her. "I'm serious," Jane then said. "I wanna have some desert later."

Ignoring her friend's unrealistic statement - she would hardly eat all the batter after all - Maura tried to get herself by Jane's outstretched arms. But immediately Jane's hands were on her shoulders instead, firmly keeping her in place against the worktop.

"Maura-," Jane threatened.

"But Jane-," Maura whined and gave her friend a most deplorable, almost childish, look. "It's yummy," she then tried, smiling innocently.

But Jane didn't move, and now with a slight impatient grumble, Maura again made a go to push her friend off. When Jane just firmly pushed her back, Maura slumped back with a sigh. But then a vague smirk crept upon her features, and without really giving herself a moment to think about it, her hands quickly moved around her friend's waist. And without the slightest hesitation they dropped, boldly grabbing her gluteus muscles.

But almost as if she was as surprised of her own action as Jane, she stared at her friend in shock, her eyes wide open, her mouth just as much - all the while managing to look rather pleased with herself all the same.

"Maura!" Jane exclaimed in shock. "What did you just do?"

In an instant Maura's previous expression vanished and instead she tried giving her most innocent look. Her hands, however, did not leave, but lingered on Jane. "What?"

"You grabbed my ass," Jane hissed embarrassed from out of the side of her mouth, as if they were in a room full of people and not just the two of them.

Maura couldn't help but grin. "I did."

Startled by the bluntness Jane just stared at her friend. "Uh- Why?" she then finally managed to ask.

Maura smiled pleasantly, and finally having the distraction she needed, she slinked out from her friend's grip. "If you get to eat off my fingers-," she then stated matter-of-factly, "-I'm allowed to 'grab your ass', as you so eloquently put it." And with just a smirk in her friend's direction she finally made her way over to her anticipated batter.

Stunned and bewildered – and also a bit amused – Jane was frozen in place, but catching the still slight smug expression on her friend's face she quickly snapped out of it to hurry over to her. Just as Maura was about to take another sample of their unfinished dessert, Jane pushed her aside.

"You're definitely not getting any more batter," she then said somewhat sternly and keeping Maura away with one arm, she poured the batter into the baking pan and shoved it into the oven. She stood up and seeing the stumped expression in her friend's face, Jane was now the one smirking smugly.

She turned to leave, but not without another smirk as she slapped her friend's ass playfully in passing. "Now come help set the table."

Maura was not the only one who could have unabashed and wandering hands after all.