Thank-you, Thank-you, Thank you for the reviews. Anais Nin said "We don't see thing as they are, we see things as we are." I realize that not everyone will see things from my perspective but kudos to the folks that do. Enjoy!

Jane woke up early before the sun. She shimmied out of Maura's embrace, hoping not to disturb the blond beauty. The detective dressed in a warm sweater and a pair of worn Levi's. She grabbed Jo's leash and took the little terrier for a walk,in attempt to clear her mind. It didn't work and after fifteen min the little pup was begging to go back inside from the harsh winter.

When she returned home, the pup ran to cozy up to near a radiator. The tired detective checked on her wife, who must have been exhausted because she hadn't stirred from the position in which Jane left her. Feeling too restless to remain in the house, Jane returned to the streets. She loved walking around Boston in her rookie days, she covered entire Burroughs with one Matchbox 20 CD.

Jane ended up at a small church, one she would frequent when she worked the Back Bay neighborhood. No one knew that for years she would light a candle and pray for her brother Tommy's welfare everyday. Jane begged God until his last arrest. Something died in her that day, her faith. She believed that there was no God. Who could be so cruel to leave their creations to be raped, sodomized, dismembered, destroyed. In fact, it had been exactly three years from the last time she prayed for Tommy and the first time she pleaded for Maura's return, that day in the morgue.

After the shooting she found herself occasionally begging to this imaginary God if only for the fact it gave some comfort. Hopefully she wasn't the only idiot in control. So here she was standing outside of St. Christopher's just in time for morning Mass. She walked into the small chapel doused her head with some Holy water and took a seat in the back. She must have been the youngest parishioner there by thirty years.

Is she going to leave me, after I tell her this insanity? No I suppose you're not a magic eight ball. I think I'm going to kill my mother and brother, is that your way of sabotaging my marriage? Is it true you hate me because I married a woman? No I don't believe that. You may have not chosen to save my brother but you saved me. You answered my mother's and wife's prayers. Jesus Maura's prayer. I heard it in ICU, although I never told her. What am I suppose to do? Why can't you respond to me send a text message, email, telegram, Facebook me anything. My mother and brother have betrayed my trust. I'm not sure if I want to resolve any of this. I'm tired of fixing things and breaking them. Maura truly is the best thing. I know I haven't treated her as if she was. I pulled off last night, turned the other cheek like you're always talking about. I'm not sure about forgiveness. I just don't want to lose my wife maybe it's time I lost my family.

After her prayer, she brushed off her knees from the dusty red kneeling bench and rested on the shaky wooden pew. Jane listened some what to the sermon and pretended to sing and recite as she had done as a child. She rubbed the St. Michael shield around her neck. If spirituality was real, the purpose of Christmas, and if God did exist, she would not lose Maura in this.

The detective stopped by a local cafe, grabbed the New York Times and bag full of pastries and fresh squeezed orange juice. As soon as she stuck her key inside the door, she felt her iPhone vibrate, she glanced at the picture of Maura that popped up. It was a photo of Maura and Jo during a picnic in the Commons.

"I'm home, Maur," Jane yelled as she set the pastries on the side table and undressed from her outerwear.

"Jane," Maura whimpered.

"Maura what's wrong," Jane screamed as she ran.

"I had the most horrific dream. I dreamt that Frankie apartment was on fire and you and Angelo just watched it burn to the ground. You didn't help him, the only one that tried was your mother. She tried to fight through the flames but eventually they swallowed her up like the building and Frankie. Jesus Jane I don't think I can manage another Rizzoli disaster. I think one a decade is far too much. Where were you? I reached for you and you were gone. I mean it's seven o'clock on a Sunday morning. Did you get a call? I didn't get a call."

"I'm sorry Maur. I should have left a note, I went to Mass," Jane said flatly.

"You went to Mass? Now I'm more worried than I was last night. What did Frankie say to you last night? Are your parents getting a divorce?"

"No," Jane smiled half-heartedly in an attempt to settle the heightened situation.

"Is it about Tommy? He promised he would show up for dinner and Christmas Mass. Why did you go to church?"

"I always been a good Catholic. Well as good as I could be. The first time, I noticed my brother had a problem. I prayed and lit candles fervently, constantly that I would get my brother back. Tommy is five years older than I am. He was my hero until I was sixteen. But I prayed I lit over almost three thousand candles for my brother. When he went in the last time I had given up on him and God. I began to only go to church for Christmas and Easter. I no longer participated in Lint. I became completely faithless. I guess with the responsibility of my own family, there this part of me that needs to believe I'm not the only one holding the reigns."

"It's perfectly normal to be spiritual. I was raised Catholic maybe not as devout as you were raised. But I pray. Statistically people who have some form of religion are more happier or fulfilled than those who are agnostic. I'm not exactly sure if it's real or not but I know something changes when I meditate even though there is no concrete data to back it. Faith, Jane is amazing thing. What we put our faith in often determines our success or failure."

"Do you have faith in me?"

"More than you could ever comprehend. Are those pastries from Gordon's?"

"Yes, I left the orange juice in the foyer. Oh and Arlene sends her best. Do you mind if we skip Sunday dinner at my parents. I made

a reservation for us at the Savoy for six-thirty. It is your advent day present."

"Sure Jane."

"Maura would you love me no matter what? Would you stay no matter what," Jane said shyly.

"For better or worse." Maura smiled as she waved her wedding ring "We will talk about Frankie and why you called your mother a bitch in the very near future?"

" Absolutely. Today I need a little time to sort something out. I will be back in time for dinner but let's just enjoy breakfast."

"Whatever it is? The mystery it can be solved, worked out, and settled. I always fear you forget the strength of human resilience."

"Where would I be without your logic to keep me grounded?"

"Lost."

"Absolutely."

Coffee. She met her brother at the same Charlestown diner, they'd frequented since they were teenagers. Their initials were still carved into the

the second booth from the back. JR and FR was here 1995. He was still her little brother. The smell of stale diner food and old coffee grounds permeated the air.

"You fucked up," Jane spat.

"I know," Frankie responded.

"You can't make this up," Jane shook.

"I know," Frankie cried.

"We need our space. I still need to talk to Maura," Jane sighed.

"I know," Frankie cried.

"Please Franco stop crying. We all had our part in this. And I love you but I think right now I hate you more. Come over Christmas Eve and then get lost. It's Maura's decision if whether she wants you around or not. I want to slap you but I'm exhausted Franco. Too spent to send Maura through one of our family ordeals. She doesn't deserve it."

"So are we over," Frankie said.

"I don't know. It's whatever Maura decides. She means more to me than anything," Jane sighed. "If she never wants to see you again than neither will I."

"Janie come on. I'm your brother . lo sono la vostra famiglia. lo sono il tuo sangue."

"Is that why you agreed to make sure whatever child, Maura and I had was a Rizzoli. You wanted to make sure the kid still had my blood. Are you fucking stupid? If you had those concerns you should have talked to us not participate in some Ocean 11 scheme. It's our choice. She's my wife. Just make sure you stay the fuck away from me until Christmas Eve. Don't come in the bullpen and we're not coming over to Ma's."

"You're not going to hit me."

"Surprisingly no. I have a baby on the way. Knowing you have a child coming gives you a weight of responsibility that you can't even imagine. I have to be a better person, a better role model. If I kill you, drive this butter knife through your jugular like I have been fantasizing about for the last fifteen min. I won't get to see my baby outside of a maximum security prison."

"I am sorry, Jane. I don't want any parental rights."

"Parental fucking rights. I went to a sperm bank and thought I was getting the sperm of a astrophysicist not some two-bit beat cop. You have no

fucking parental rights. If something like that were to ever cross you mind I would fucking sue you. What you and Ma did was not unethical but it's fucking illegal. Parental rights," Jane scoffed. "Go away."

Rage is a peculiar emotion, how quickly it builds and pours over anything in it's path. Jane tried meditating on her way to her mother's house. It was a little after one and she was sure her father was in front of the Pats on television and her mother was dicing something for dinner. Jane took deep breaths as she navigated though the familiar neighborhood streets. When she pulled up to her parent's house, she checked her face in the rearview. She was shocked to see her bloodshot eyes and tearstained cheeks. Jane hadn't noticed she was crying.

Jane opened the door and snuck to the living room to see her father. Frank had one hand wrapped around a beer, the other around the remote

and his full attention on Brady's Hail Mary pass.

"Janie what's wrong," the old plumber whispered as he slipped his arms around his only daughter.

"Everything," Jane exhaled. "I'm not going to come around for awhile. You are still welcomed to see me at home or work or the games. Daddy

I'm still your little girl."

"What is this all about sweet pea?"

"You gotta ask your wife or your son. I'll call you soon Daddy. I promise." With that Jane pulled away from her father's embrace.

Jane walked slowly to the kitchen, pushed the swinging kitchen door with delicate care. She took her last deep breath, released just enough tension to give slack to the bursting seams. Angela was chopping green peppers, as she expected.

"Jane, you're early. Are you here to apologize," Angela smiled "What's wrong?" The older woman's countenance dropped to her knees.

"I'm not you Ma. Why do insist on making me you? I'm not a high school dropout who married a plumber because she got knocked up. I'm not an unfulfilled housewife who spends her life torturing her children because in her sick twisted mind the her way of living vicariously. What the fuck is wrong with you are you in leagues with the devil. Being around you is like hell, knowing you is hell. Did you ever think about anyone but yourself." Jane spat.

"You will not talk to me that way, Jane. I am your mother," Angela steamed.

"No you were my mother. You stop being my mother when you forced my little brother to cum in a cup. Then hatch a scheme with that fucking idiot Mikey Talucci. IT"S MY LIFE. MY FUCKING WIFE. OUR FUCKING CHOICE. I'm tired of you judging and trying to control my choices. lo sono il tuo sangue. What does that mean? I am your blood. You have potentially destroyed my marriage and you have ended our relationship because of blood. Whatever grandchildren you got you should have been overjoyed whether there were apart of our bloodline or not." Jane yelled.

"You have no right to judge me. You have never walked in my shoes. I gave you every opportunity, I could. I've always wanted you to do better than me. I have never been jealous. I didn't flinch when you married Maura. Although, I still struggle with the fact that you are gay. You weren't going to disappoint me with my grandchildren."

"So you're disappointed that I married Maura."

"She's a lovely girl but she's not what I pictured. I love her like she was my own but you owed me for this understanding."

"YOU'RE FUCKING INSANE!. I don't own you anything. I've paid you my gratitude. Stay out of my life. Tomorrow I'm getting a restraining order against you. Don't come near my house, Maura, me. I promise I will not hesitate to lock you up." Jane seethed.

"You're a bitch, Jane. You have always wanted things your way." Angela screamed!

"Yep well I'm a bitch that is having a baby. Maura's pregnant. I swear you will never see this child, that you worked so hard to create. Maura is my blood. Maura is my family." Jane spat