A/N: This chapter is kind of choppy, and didn't come out exactly how I want, and I don't know if I wanted to share this part yet, but I feel like I'm going to lose readers if I don't clear some things up, and I know, I know, I shouldn't care or whatever, but it's so annoying when someone thinks I ship Tommy and Maura! Like dude go with the story! Anyways, not everything will be revealed. If you're interested in finding out what Maura and Tommy talked about, then try to get through this chapter, because though it may be misleading, I think it's worth it. Anyway HAPPY NEW YEAR and enjoy. Oh yeah, show and characters don't belong to me, I'd butcher them, and you'd all hate me. Duuuuh. Haha.

Oh. And I don't think Tommy is stupid at all. He's a Rizzoli. Rizzoli's aren't stupid. Except for maybe Frank.

Korsac and Frost finally made their way to exit 39, when they saw Tommy and Frankie waving their arms around, motioning, and a group of police officers, running toward their car. Out of instinct, Frost stepped hard on the brakes.

Before they had time to respond, before they had time to wonder what exactly Tommy and Frankie were motioning for, black smoke and orange fire engulfed Jane's car, and the crime scene at exit 39.

Luckily, the fire did not spread, due to the sudden strong rain, storming through Boston.

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Tommy wasn't the kind of person to stop and think, as his long rap sheet with the police department indicated.

He wasn't the type to ask his friends or his family for advice when a problem struck him as troublesome, or even strange.

So when Tommy came to Maura to have a talk it was inevitably strange, but also frightening to him. Tommy didn't talk out his problems, he saw a way to act and he did, no matter what the consequences were later. He was just that type of guy.

Except when it came to this. This problem that he had struggled with more or less through high school and this couldn't tackle today. He went to Maura's house that night, grasping to the rare courage he felt at actually sharing his problem, and his full trust in Maura not to laugh at him or even worse, judge him.

After many years of feeling judged by his sister and older brother, Jane and Frankie, Tommy was relieved to find a friend in Maura, who did not look at him and see only his novelty rap sheet, see only his past, see only his mistakes, and his rash decisions.

She looked at him, and he didn't see disappointment in her hazel clear eyes, but compassion, courtesy, and a light that had gone out in him once his father had divorced his mother.

Tommy saw in Maura what he wished he could see for himself, faith.

Faith that he wasn't how he was, that time had gone by and he was changed, touched by that time, just like everyone else. Faith that bubbled just close enough to the surface for Tommy to see, just close enough to make him feel understood.

So that night he came to her, knowing full on why, but not for what.

Would he use her to drown this, just a pawn in a chess game?

Would he talk to her about this, like he had to no one before?

Would he just sit and drink Jane's beer, while she drank her wine, and share the company?

Would he play chess with her, and let her win, because he wanted to see the triumphant smile on her face as she said checkmate, because he wanted to study her strategy without being distracted by his own?

Somewhere inside of Tommy's head a voice laughed at him, mockingly. Would he ever knock on her door?

So he did, like he took every challenge, except for the one he was about to face.

The war he was about to rage against himself.

And now here he was, on Maura's bed, engaging in the most terrifying conversation he had taken part in, in his life, leaning close to her with each second, watching her thoughtful eyes try to formulate an acceptable response.

But her eyes were too calculating, too slow in formulating, and Tommy couldn't take waiting, almost dreading, the switch in their expression, which he feared so wholeheartedly. Would they continue to understand, support, and accept? Would they become shocked, hurt, and disappointed?

Disappointed in the battle he had dodged practically his entire life?

Disappointed in him for finally breaking under the stress, the tension, and partaking in that battle, in her home, on her bed?

Tommy closed his eyes, unable to look at the eyes that had held him with such high esteem before, if they were about to turn on him now. Call him a coward, a failure, with just a flash of disappoint that he prided him self on not seeing on that shade of hazel.

As Maura reached out to Tommy, still unable to respond to his confession, and took his hand in her own, his eyes remained closed.

The fear plaguing him, paralyzing him, so that all that mattered was this moment, and everything else washed away with the force of this singular wave. This singular event in his life was one of his most important, most vital, because it would determine his future.

He never considered his future before. Feeling undermined by his siblings accomplishments, washed out by his siblings disappointment, judgment, he never felt he had one.

Never let himself wonder.

Until this moment, with his eyes closed, with Maura's hand on his. Until he realized this was what he wanted, what he needed to fight for more than ever.

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After calling the expected outlets, which were meant to be called in the event of an explosion and other emergencies, and after they communicated that anything recovered from the explosion was to be filed under David Danker and promptly brought to the Boston Police Department. Frost, Korsac, Frankie and Tommy wasted no time getting back in their cars, and heading to the precinct.

They went in the opposite direction of the fair to save time. The rain fell heavily against the metal and glass of the car, the sky was black, with no moon in sight.

They came to an excruciating red light. "Holy shit, do you believe that? A bomb. We almost got blown up, by a bomb." Frankie was exasperated, unable to contain himself, unable to do nothing while Jane and Maura's lives were at steak. Tommy made no reply.

The hot air in the car seemed to suffocate, as Frankie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The constant thumping felt like a ticking clock programmed in Tommy's head. He couldn't take it any longer. Maura knew his secret, and now it was time for Frankie. The rain batted against the car, even louder, and Tommy felt his chance slipping away, causing him to almost scream- but again, his fear had paralyzed him, his voice. He felt like dead weight, and he just couldn't stand the feeling. Something animalistic in him snapped, he cared about the consequences this time around, he cared so much, and it made him feel alive. He remembered Maura's eyes, how they hesitated, and then how they lightened, and lifted his spirits, lifted that dead weight away. It gave him hope, it gave him motivation- he cared so much it was choking him. He felt a hot sensation in his eardrums, a furrow in his eyebrows, a stir of sound in his throat.

"Frankie, I need to tell you something."

"Jane and Maura are locked up in a trunk, a cop killer holding the key, we just got bombed, along with all the evidence we had at that crime scene, damn near close to all the hope we have at catching this guy, and you need to tell me something?" Frankie asked his younger brother, worried about his sister to the point of not caring how angry he sounded and how uncivil his voice was toward his brother, who seemed pretty indifferent to his sister's safety and her happiness. Everyone knew Jane had a thing for Maura, and everyone suspected Maura had a thing for Jane. Couldn't his brother see how he was tainting their poser-board relationship, just like he did everything else? Didn't he see he was fucking them up? "Unless you tell me how to save her from another monster, like she saved me. Like she saves us all the time, then I don't want to hear it, Tommy!

It's a shit time, I know," Tommy replied, almost losing his nerve, seeing the edge of a cliff in his brother's angry expression.

Frankie started drumming again, this time more forcefully and less consistently, "Can't you wait?" He asked impatiently. "Isn't there a damn better time for what you need to say?" He paused, his voice softening, "Can't you wait, so you can tell Jane and I, together?"

"No, Frankie. I feel like I've been waiting all my life, and now that I have the balls to say this, you're gonna listen," Their profiles were tinted red by the streetlight, "I know I'm a disappointment, and I know you and Janey are so high and mighty, and you expect more from me, and that's why you're so disappointed, but I also know that you guys love me. That's why I have to say this. She will find out, whether it's because of me or Maura, but you deserve to know, Frankie, and I need to say it now, or I think I never will," Tommy paused, vaguely wondering if he actually had the balls to say it, his dark eyes connected with his brother's lighter ones somewhere in the middle of his speech, their profiles shirted to green, as if to imply go, "I'm gay." This time he didn't close his eyes, he would face whatever reaction his brother had, and he would live through it, because his brother loved him, and he would understand.

Just like Jane would, when they got them out of that darned trunk, because despite what Frankie and all the other's suspected, he knew how Maura felt.

He entrusted his secrets in her, as she did him. They were after all, confidants, holding each other's respective hearts.

I know what you're thinking. And no, I haven't forgotten what Jane said in the first chapter, trust me, but there's an explanation behind that too. Everything happens eventually, as the alter ego of Angel, Seely Booth, once said. Oh yes, readers! What do you think? Too much beating around the bush, not enough serial killer action? I'll have you know I don't do well with plot, so I think I've outdone my self here. But hey, that's what writing is about! Or at least Shakespeare tells me so...

Thanks for reading!