It was mid-afternoon and Jane and Nonna were perched on two small stools in the living room. They both had a small glass of Vin Santo in hand and were dipping their almond biscuits in the amber liquor as they nibbled on them. It was neither late enough, nor cool enough for such warming liquor but as it was Nonna's favourite, they felt like treating themselves as they admired Jane's handiwork.

The walls had been scrubbed with a sugar wash and any blemishes had been filled in or built up where necessary. It had been slow going but progress had been made nonetheless.

"So, you wanna talk about why you're really here? Or do you wanna keep pretending you're here to spend quality time with Nonna?"

Jane chokes a little on her dunked biscuit, the alcohol burning her throat as she coughs. She wasn't expecting the question and makes herself swallow the mass of goodness before her body was ready to.

"W-what?"

"My little Jay-jay…" A wrinkled hand comes to rest upon her knee. "I may not see you as much as I'd like…" And gives Jane a pointed look, who sighs. "… but I know when something's wrong with my girl."

Looking away, she contemplates hiding behind humour but Nonna soon puts a stop to that.

"C'mon, out with it… nothing said here will be repeated to your mother."

They laugh, thinking of the often hysterical nature that was Angela Rizzoli.

"That's your fault you know," Jane offers.

"What is?"

"Ma, and her…" She flails her arms about and starts screeching in Angela mode. "Why do ya gotta dress like that…? When are ya gonna give me grandchildren…!"

"Hey! Don't disrespect your mother!"

The pointed hand brings her in line but neither can hide their smirk.

"Your fault," Jane mumbles, receiving a chuckle from her grandma.

"We all have our faults, Janie… even you."

The brunette grunts, mostly due to the use of name. She's more than aware of her own faults. It's part of the reason she struggles with the concept that anyone could have a romantic interest in her. It just seems ludicrous.

She takes another sip of amber liquid. "It's complicated."

"Of course it is! You think your Nonna hasn't lived? Life is always complicated! All the more reason to talk."

She exhales in dismay, troubled as to how to explain. When she does her voice is soft and filled with vulnerability. It's noticed.

"I did something… something I really didn't want to do, but I had to… cause of the job."

She couldn't get past it, past that spot of acknowledgement when admitting to a lack of control was called for. She'd thought she'd organised everything that day, that she had the situation under control. Her eyes were trained on Maura, she had the back-up, but she didn't consider that Dean would break his promise and show up… and then it all went to hell.

"I had to shoot someone…" She stares at her glass. "Someone who meant something to Maura."

"Your doctor friend?"

She nods and takes solace in the strong liquid in her hands.

"Did he die?"

"I killed him, yes."

"No." The reaction was stern and caused Jane to look up in confusion.

"Did you not hear what I said?"

"Si, I heard you but you did not kill him."

She's exasperated. "Nonna..!"

"Did he too have a gun?"

"Yeah, but…"

"And did he fire at you?"

"Well, yeah, he had fired, but…"

"Then you did not kill him."

"I put a bullet through his chest! I think I know the definition of killing someone, and what I did, was kill him!"

"NO!"

Tears sprung forward at harshness of Nonna's expression. It was fierce and she was at a loss.

"I don't understand what the hell you're tryin to say," she says defeatedly. "I shot him."

"You did not kill that man, Jane. He killed himself."

"With my own bullet?" She points at herself, feeling flustered. "From my own gun? You know what? You gotta lay off-a this stuff…" Raising her glass. "… cause you're not makin' any sense…"

Her chin is grabbed, her focus determined on the older woman without her consent.

"He put himself there. He aimed his gun… you did what you had to do! There was no 'killing,' no time for thought, only you doing what you had to do."

The tough love from the woman beside her brought forth more tears. They dribbled down across old wrinkled fingers that were still clamped to her jaw.

"But I hurt her, Mama…" She closes her eyes, her voice emitting the pet name used when she needs her grandma the most. "I hurt her and she can't forgive me."

Her heartbreak is obvious and it crashes through Nonna's chest cavity. She strokes the cheek nearest her thumb, allowing their foreheads to meet. Jane cries, her hand coming up to hold her grandmother's wrist, and as the shaking of her body gets worse, the glass is removed from her hands and she's held in the older woman's arms, her safety.

Holding her breath, Jane tries to reign herself in. Nonna feels her rigidity return just a little and pulls back to brush her hair away from her face, removing her tears.

"Who was he? This man," she asks softly.

"Her biological father, but he was a mobster… a no good, manipulating, son of a…"

"I hear you, sweetheart."

They share in a smile. Jane laughing briefly at the fact her grandma just reminded her so much of Maura, both women lacking any appreciation for the use of swear words. She resolves herself to being exposed and leans in, resting her head on an aged shoulder.

"Did she know him?"

"She'd met him a handful of times and most of them she was under duress."

Nonna keeps brushing her fingers through Jane's hair, knowing she was one of the few to be able to do so. Comforting her granddaughter was always difficult. She hated the fussing and only accepted it from a handful of people. Nonna was starting to wonder if Maura had experienced this privilege too.

"His existence threatened her life so many times… I'm not sad that he's dead, at least he won't keep showing up and putting her in more danger… but I'd have rather had to chance to arrest him instead. Then she might've got some answers from him about her mother and her heritage."

She pulls away and takes over the job of wiping her own face. She's numb and finds herself staring straight ahead, at nothing. Nonna tops up their glasses and hands Jane back her own receiving a small thanks. They slowly return to art of dunking and nibbling on the thin biscuits.

"She's your person isn't she? Your spirit?"

Jane's heart clenches as something unexplainable rushes through her. "What?"

"Marcella calls it being a kindred spirit, but I am too cynical for that and I think you are too." They share an agreeable smile before she continues. "She says, there are some friendships that leave you wanting more."

The statement is made and Jane's left to decipher it. Nonna watches her thoughtfully, but realises her granddaughter may not be ready for such a discussion. She stands to clear up and contemplate dinner.

"What do you think she meant?"

Jane's question stops her. She turns to see her all washed out and her sensitivities bare.

"She told me… if she could have lived with someone of her choosing, shared her life truly, it'd be with your Aunt Arabella."

"Aunty Bell?"

"Si."

Aunty Bell was a close friend of the family. Another Rizzoli family adoptee, so to speak, and Marcella was Nonna's best friend. They were a trio. Where you'd find one, you'd find the other.

"But Auntie Marcy's married."

"Si."

She watches Jane sit back in thought, and hopes her subtle message gets through to her. Jane's eyes suddenly bug out. "And you think that… that me and Maura…?"

She leans in. "I see your face sweetheart. When you speak of her, you show your love for her as clear as night and day." She takes a thoughtful look at her granddaughter and straightens up. "Tell me how much you miss her?"

Jane's face contorts a little in confusion and heartache. "A lot."

"You must, if you're willing to spend time fixing up this old broken place."

Jane stares ahead. "I miss her all the time… when I'm not moving or doing something, I think of her." She looks up. "But I mean, we're not…"

"You don't have to be." A reassuring hand is placed on her shoulder. "Whether you want what a man and woman wants with her doesn't matter." She squeezes Jane's shoulder to make her point. "It's what you crave that does, if you want to hold her, lie beside her, keep her safe… that kind of love doesn't have to be named." She squats down, wincing a little as her joints strain with the motion. "Your mother has destined that you pick a man for a white picket fence and flock of children. You don't have to choose that life Jay-jay. If you had a choice…" she says, looking intently into Jane's eyes. "… if you had one person you could choose to live your life with… really choose… you would choose her, wouldn't you?"

Her mouth opens as she searches for the answer. She is dumbfounded. Surely, life is more complicated than that? "Nonna… I… I don't know… "

"And you don't have to." She pats her face. "The answer is not for me."

She gets up with a little difficulty, collecting the biscuit tin and the opened bottle. "You deserve your own happiness, my bella. Don't give up. She will come back to you."

Sorry this wasn't a Maura & Jane chapter, but the road to recovery is underway.

Please review? Thanks! Tj. :) xx