A/N: I've only read through it once so if you catch any mistakes feel free to tell me. Also, it's really hard for me to get into Jane's head in this story for some reason hah.

Disclaimer: Don't own characters. Not making money. ETC.

Maura was awake, wide eyed and staring at the ceiling of her bedroom an hour before her alarm went off. No matter how many times she tried yoga breathing her breath insisted on coming in short gasps and small puffs of air through her parted lips. It was the end of the week now and the third time waking up like this. It was as if an invisible person was squeezing her throat, sitting on her chest, making her unable to move or breathe or function. The invisible hand felt very much like the real arm that was around her that fateful day. The day where Jane got shot, for the second time, and where she was nearly kidnapped, also for the second time. How did they always end up in situations like that?

In the quiet of her bedroom she could still feel the man's arm, the crook of his elbow underneath her chin. She could still feel the cold metal of the gun on her temple, his sweat and cologne stuck to her like a second skin. She could still feel that way his stubble scratched her cheek, still hear his erratic ragged breathing coming from his mouth directly into her ear. But worst of all she could feel that fear rise in her throat in the middle of the night. The mere thought of someone in her room, in her house, uninvited and unwanted had almost forced her into sleeping in the living room on more than one occasion. One night she went so far as to sleep in the guest room because the sheets still smelled like Jane. And Jane was everything that was safe and secure. And maybe some of that safeness would rub off on her, sink into her pores and make her just a smidgen more brave and courageous.

Thinking of Jane sometimes was like a double edged sword in these types of situations. On one hand Jane was everything she needed and on the other she almost lost Jane that day too. She always almost lost Jane. When would the day come when the detective's sacrificial side overcame her? When would the day come when Jane wouldn't come home that night? Or any night? Maura gripped the sheets beneath her until her knuckles were white. She had no idea why this one incident was different. She didn't know why she was having such a strong reaction this time when every other time was so much easier to brush off. Maybe it was because she hadn't seen Jane very much the last four days. All the other times they were almost attached at the hip. They had breakfast and lunch and dinner together until the uneasiness wore off, until their hands stopped shaking and until they stopped jumping at inconsequential noises like Bass fumbling around in her kitchen. But this time Jane wasn't there. Maura overstepped by voicing a fear. She overstepped and Jane had been distant ever since.

It was easier to ignore their life or death experiences, to shove them off to the side with a smile and a laugh, when Jane was there to initiate the joke to keep her from crying or to throw a tissue at her or fix her a sandwich. She had gotten so used to life with Jane that she could hardly even remember life without Jane. So when it was just her with her racing mind and the quiet still of her dark, lonely house all those feelings she shoved down deep into her stomach overwhelmed her. It wasn't just this one experience either, it was everything. It was about falling for her best friend. It was about Ian and Garrett and Dennis and her mother and her father. It was about neglect and never having the courage to ask for what she wanted. It was all those tiny spaces she could never fill and the way no one seemed to understand her at all. It was about always being the odd one out. And she hated it. She hated all of it.

Three AM was so very loud.

Her grip on the sheets only lessened when her alarm went off. When she stood to shower she felt as if she hadn't gotten any kind of sleep at all.

…

Jane sat at her desk going through the motions like she had been for the last four days. Korsak's little smack in the face had sent her spiraling into a never ending circle. She had no fucking idea what the hell she was supposed to do. She hadn't really talked to Maura since their little argument. She hadn't grown the courage to even be alone in the same room with the doctor. She didn't have any cases going on. She was to do paperwork but she couldn't concentrate on the tiny words on her computer screen. Instead she propped her feet on her desk and stared into her coffee cup asking herself the same question she'd been asking herself for three days: did she really have a crush on Maura? And again, she had the same knee jerk reaction she had every time. She was a thirty-five year old fifteen year veteran of the Boston Police Department. She did not have "crushes." Crushes were for hopeful, naïve, young, people. They were for people who hadn't given up on, well, on anything. And Jane had given up on so much already. But if it wasn't a crush, then what was it?

She bit her lip blinking slowly. If she could just lay out a list of facts in her head she could use her detective skills to surely figure it out. After all, if it looked like a duck and quaked like a duck then it was probably a duck. So she thought about Maura, which she seemed to be doing a lot of lately.

She had a routine with Maura. It was a routine that no man – or anyone – had been able to break. She had movie nights and pizza days and a workout schedule with Maura. Maura knew how she liked in her coffee, her eggs, and her steak. They laughed at each other's jokes most of the time. She craved the doctor's presence in a way she had never craved for anyone else. It was like she was tethered to Maura by some sort of rubber band. They could spend time a part but they were always connected. Korsak had been right when he said she would follow Maura to the ends of the Earth and back if she asked. But the biggest thing was that Jane knew without a doubt that Maura accepted her for all she was. She stayed while everyone else walked out. And wasn't that all she really wanted?

Then there was the physical side. Like the way butterflies exploded in her stomach when Maura stood close enough she could smell that wonderful perfume of hers. Or the way that Maura's entire face lit up with each and every genuine smile. There were all those times she'd been half awake, half asleep while Maura rubbed her back or her hip or ran her fingers through her hair and it felt good. It felt right. She had not been around someone where everything was just so effortless in a long time, if ever. The way Maura's touch could make her skin burn and make goosebumps trail her skin and make her breath catch was all very knew to her. But it happened. Her body seemed to know something before her brain could even catch up. Then there was that epiphany that happened in the morgue the other day. So yes, she was physically attracted to Maura.

Jane swallowed hard. She liked Maura. She liked Maura in a completely inappropriate manner. She couldn't deny it anymore. She was officially out of the river and on dry land coughing and sputtering up all the water she inhaled but there nonetheless. Her chest tightened. This was not supposed to happen. It was not how she planned her life to go. She ran a slightly clammy hand over her face. Maura was her best friend. She deserved better than whatever scraps Jane could give her. Jane was broken, damaged, riff-raff, low-class. Maura was the complete opposite of all of that. Maura needed someone that knew how to eat food that stared back and what the difference between a pencil skirt and an A-line skirt were. Maura deserved someone that could give her the moon and the stars. Jane couldn't even give Maura half of any of that. She sighed.

It was like a twister had come into her apartment in the middle of the night , sucked her up, and dropped her in a place that looked the same and felt the same but was suddenly so very, very different. She couldn't find the ruby red slippers that would take her back nor could she find the yellow brick road to move forward. Instead, she was stuck in a weird state of flux, neither here nor there, that was covered in a layer of fog so thick she couldn't even see her hand in front of her face. She had no direction, no signs, no way to know which way was the right way.

For the first time in a long time she actually wanted to talk to someone. But she pushed everyone away so often there were no more strings to pull on or hands to help her. They all just knew she wouldn't talk no matter how often they offered so they stopped offering. God, none of this was supposed to happen. She ran a hand over her face once more before standing on shaky feet. "I'll be in the gym." She said gruffly before leaving the bullpen.

…

Later that night Maura walked into The Dirty Robber alone. She hadn't seen Jane all day. She was kind of happy about that. Space was a good thing, especially when she was in her current mindset. Seeing Jane would only make everything worse. She just wanted to forget. She wanted to find someone that would make her forget. She wanted to get drunk and wake up in some stranger's bed. She wanted that nightmarish ragged breathing that she heard in the still of the night to be replaced by a different kind of breathlessness. She wanted to forget about near-death and actual death and guns and blood and unfortunate crushes on certain homicide detectives.

Around midnight she knew her plan had failed. She had talked to three men. All of which would've done anything she asked, she had them wrapped around her finger so much. But she couldn't find it in herself to ask that daring question of 'your place or mine?' The entire time she felt dirty. She felt like she was cheating on Jane in a relationship that didn't exist. At that revelation the shots were thrown back at rapid speed. She wound up sitting at a table full of detectives from all kinds of units with names and faces she definitely wouldn't remember in the morning.

After that it was beer and wine and tequila and guns and blood and free drinks with men that smelled funny and she was so unbelievably tired. At some point the bartender cut her off. She couldn't remember when or why or what was said but when she demanded another round he shook his head.

…

Jane had no idea how long she'd been asleep when her phone rang loudly near her ear but it was long enough to start drooling. "Rizzoli." She husked into the phone eyes still closed.

The first thing that registered in her sleepy mind was the background noise. There was music and cheering and it was far too late – or was it early? – to go to a crime scene at a club. She groaned. "Hey, it's Frost. I just wanted to tell you that Doctor Isles is going round for round with the Narcotics and Drug Unit guys."

"What?" Jane yelled sitting up on her bed.

"I've been keeping an eye on her, but the bartender just cut her off. I think you should come take her home before someone else does."

"The Robber?"

"Yup."

"'Kay, I'm on my way. Thanks." After hanging up Jane stood from her bed. She threw on some pants she found on the floor and grabbed her keys. How could Maura even go round for round with those guys? Didn't she know how they looked at her when she wasn't looking? Jane knew from experience those guys didn't drink any of the frou-frou stuff Maura drank. They drank tequila, whisky, and vodka. They did shots and weird concoctions, not fine wine or cabaret.

It wasn't hard to find Maura when she arrived at the bar. The medical examiner was surrounded by a large group of men. They were all playing darts. One detective was standing behind Maura "showing" her how to throw a dart. Maura leaned into him with that smile, the one she'd seen personally set to work on numerous occasions. Something inside Jane snapped. She stomped over to the group. Everyone turned and pointed. The detective behind Maura stepped back. "Hey, Rizzoli!"

Maura turned around. "Jane!" She stepped – stumbled – forward and threw her arms around Jane's neck before the taller woman could even react. Suddenly all one hundred fifteen pounds of Dr. Maura Isles was pressed against her front as Maura's lips left a very gross, very slobbery kiss on her cheek. Jane vaguely heard catcalls going around the bar. She tried to glare at them all but her mind seemed to only be on one track. All she could process was Maura. The way the smell of the alcohol mixed with her perfume was somewhat intoxicating on its own. She couldn't help but notice the way Maura's body fit snugly next to hers or how easily her own hands found their way to Maura's hips. Maura was talking nonsense in her ear…something about the origin of darts or beer or groups or something equally meaningless. The guys were still staring, high-fiving each other, and shooting her knowing looks. She could've sworn she heard someone say something along the lines of 'get it Rizzoli!' with a whistle for added bonus. She rolled her eyes before paying Maura's tab and dragging the medical examiner to her car.

Somehow they stumbled up the entire flight of stairs and somehow Maura still managed to walk in those ridiculous heels of hers piss drunk better than Jane could ever do sober. Jane sat Maura on the sofa and watched as Jo Friday trotted over and jumped onto her second favorite lap. Content that Maura wasn't going to fall over and suffocate on her couch Jane walked into the kitchen to make Maura a peanut butter and fluff sandwich and a glass of water.

"Janneeeee." Maura called from the living room in a sing-song voice. "I need to talk to you."

Jane took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before walking into the living room with plate and glass in hand. "Yeah, Maura?"

"I'm sorry to say this," Her head was towards the ground as she spoke. "But I need to be a composite number. And," She hiccupped with a slight giggle. "I've been a prime number. I didn't even know that until tonight." Jane couldn't help the laugh that escaped her mouth. She'd never seen Maura drunk before and she had to admit now that they were in a quiet place with just the two of them she found it mildly hilarious. "Don't you get it Jane?"

Jane shook her head before moving to sit next on the coffee table. "I don't do math when you're sober. I definitely can't do it when your drunk. Speaking of," She picked up the triangular cut, crust-less half of the sandwich and held it out to Maura. "How much did you have to drink?" Maura stared at the bread with an eyebrow raised as if she didn't know what it was. "Eat." Jane said waving the food around. Maura laughed before leaning forward and taking a bite out of it from Jane's hand. Jane's eyebrows shot up.

"I lost track."

"At what number?"

Maura shrugged. She leaned forward grabbing the food item from Jane's hand the glass of water. She took a long gulp and a huge very un-Maura like bite. There was silence while Maura ate. Jane had no idea what to say. She knew people didn't just drink like that, Maura didn't just drink like that. In their five year span of knowing each other Jane had never seen Maura piss drunk. She'd seen her tipsy, a little moody from one too many glasses of wine but never…never like this.

"Why, Maura?" She finally got the nerve to ask.

"We have to break up, Jane!" Maura threw her hands in the air. Jo Friday leaped from her position on Maura's lap with a sniffle and a jingle of her collar. She looked at Maura almost reproachfully before trotting to her own bed. Jane furrowed her eyebrows. What the hell was Maura talking about? "We need to spend some time a part from each other because I can't think when you're around me and I can't breathe and I can't do this anymore!" She shrugged exaggeratedly like she was throwing off some kind of weight she had been holding. "You're dumb and rude and bossy and insufferable." Jane raised her eyebrows. Maura's eyes softened. "But you're also kind and smart and funny and warm and you save me, Jane. You save me all the time. I couldn't sleep with anyone tonight because I felt dirty. It felt like I was cheating on my girlfriend. I don't want to cheat on you, Jane." Maura paused. "You're…You're everything and you're in my head and I can't think. And I like you. I like you too much and I need to stop. So we need to break up. But we're not dating." Another pause. "Why aren't we dating, Jane?"

Jane had that tightness in her chest again, the kind that left her breathless and winded. "I – I don't know, Maura." Jane replied weakly. She leaned forward bushing the hair away from Maura's forehead. "I don't know." There was a long stretch of silence. Jane could see Maura's eyelids drooping further and further. There was so much she wanted to say, so many things to talk about. Would Maura even remember this conversation in the morning? Maura leaned dangerously forward. Jane swallowed her own nerves before leaning down and gently taking off Maura's shoes. She pulled the honey blond to her feet. "C'mon, it's bed time Dr. Isles."

…

Maura awoke the next day a little after noon alone in a bed that wasn't hers and in clothes that weren't hers. She couldn't remember much of the night before. She remembered going to the bar. She remembered drinking and flirting with random men. She blinked rolling over onto her back. She was at Jane's apartment. How did she get there? She was wearing a pair of Jane's boxers and a BPD t-shirt. How did she get into them? Where was Jane? It was this reason that she never liked to drink in excess. The black outs and the hangover were perfectly fine reasons not to drink. The first time she'd ever been drunk was when she was seventeen in France right after exams were over. Then there was the one time in college after Garrett left and now this. She ran a hand over her face. Why did she do this to herself? Obviously, if she wound up at Jane's her plan backfired. She needed a break. She needed to take a long weekend to just go somewhere alone just so she could get her head right again. She needed to wash the feelings she had for Jane right out of her system. She sighed quietly before rolling back over onto her stomach. That would have to wait. She tugged the blanket back over her head. All she really wanted to do was sleep.

…

Jane was at the park running at an unforgiving pace. Her form was awful and she was making weird faces but she didn't care. She didn't care because she was aiming to beat herself up. The pain she felt in her lungs, her legs, her hands was all welcomed. She wanted to forget all the things Maura drunkenly told her the previous night. She wanted to not think about relationships or kissing or hand placement or the way Maura's body felt against her own. She didn't want to think about drunken surely unremembered confessions. But as always everything she didn't want to think about was there at the forefront of her mind. She felt like a bomb she'd been holding in her hands for a while finally exploded and she couldn't hear or see or think because her ears were still ringing and the light was still so bright.

All her life her first instinct had always been to jump in front of danger. When she was a kid it was about the adrenaline, the thrill. It was about jumping in front of a bully and putting him in his place. As she grew older the risks became higher, the danger greater, bigger things than just her reputation were on the line. In the real world the danger was an incredibly accelerating car or a basement or a handgun. There were real bullets and real people and real lives at stake. She had a high pressure, high risk, high reward job. She could look a serial killer or a dirty cop or a jealous murdering wife in the face and say the things that weren't meant to be said. But Maura, Maura was a totally different kind of danger. She wasn't prepared to jump in front of that, she wasn't ready. And she needed to be ready before she decided to change everything.

She didn't know how long she'd been gone but by the time she got back to her place Maura was nowhere to be found. She left a note on Jane's refrigerator saying that she went home. Jane let out a breath of air she didn't know she'd been holding before sitting down with a bottle of beer. It was definitely going to be a long, long day.

A/N: Hope that's not moving too fast?I have most of twelve written out. I don't know if I got it across well but I was trying to go for Maura drinking because of everything, all the things. Because at some point all of the stuff that overwhelms you...just something's gotta give (And hence the chapter title!)