Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. To be completely honest, I hadn't quite planned where this story would go either with their relationship or the plot. So this chapter was a bit harder to write. There are scenes included (with dialogue) from the episode that inspired this entire story, "Murderjuana" (06x14). This chapter will be a bit backwards—the flashback will be to the session rather than flashbacks to scenes with Maura while sitting in sessions. Thank you all for your continued reviews and encouragement. –dkc

Twelve Times – Chapter 12

She lied to Maura about having to interview a witness. She skipped lunch with the M.E. so she could meet him.

She had never lied to Maura about him before.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," he said.

"Dr. Kaplan, you say the sweetest things," Jane had arrived with both sarcasm and two cups of coffee.

"No really, someday we have to meet in my office. People do it all the time. They call, they make an appointment."

"I like this spot," they laughed.

They continued talking, Jane guarding her feelings and refusing to think of this as a session. She was there on her own accord. This wasn't an appointment required by BPD. This wasn't in response to a trauma that had happened to her. What it was, she wasn't sure, but she hated to think of this as ongoing therapy with a psychiatrist. Therapy made her feel weak.

"12 meetings in 5 years is enough to constitute a professional relationship," he spoke the words as if he knew exactly her aversion to therapy.

Jane didn't like the sound of it.

"I read about Dr. Isles' abduction," she nodded, clenching her teeth. "I'm guessing that's why you're here. You find it difficult to see someone you care about in danger?"

"Well, yeah. It's hard to see a strong woman like Maura, you know, just crippled by fear and anxiety. She's starting to lose her confidence; she's second-guessing herself."

Jane was emotional. Her love of Maura evident in every bit of concern she expressed.

"Dr. Isles is not my client, you are. I'm asking about you."

Jane seemed genuinely surprised by this.

"No, I'm fine. I…I'm fine." She tried to convince him as much as herself.

"Then why'd you want to see me?" he asked.

She was quiet, looking away. What was the actual answer? Why were they here? Why had she asked him to meet her in the park?

"You know, I remember when you first called me to come meet you here," he pointed to where she was rubbing her hands. "Those scars were very new."

It was the first time she had seen him outside the office. Every time she saw him outside of his office she did so because she was asking for his help on her own. She wasn't required to be there.

"Yeah, it was right after I caught Hoyt," she continued with her hands.

"Some wounds heal with stitches and a Band-Aid, others require more time. All of them require a helping hand," he spoke with both the kindness she had come to expect of him and the certainty.

"I'm not wounded."

She got up and walked away in frustration.

She couldn't quite accept whatever it was that had made her lie to her friend and lover.

Maura had played amateur psychiatrist and Jane hadn't appreciated it. Part of it was because she wasn't open to seeing someone regularly, especially with what was going on in her life. The other part, though, was that she didn't want to appear weak to her best friend.

So she lied.

The sound woke Jane suddenly. Even coming out of a deep sleep she knew what the floorboard nearest the back door sounded like.

Shooting off the couch and reaching for her holster, Jane panicked briefly when she remembered that she had locked her gun up for the night as a compromise with her paranoia. She moved stealthily around the couch, crouching down as she made her way toward the door.

Sculpture in hand, having grabbed it from the console table, she stood upright as the light turned on.

"Fuck!" she was shocked and relieved when she saw that it was Maura.

Shocked in her own right, Maura's brow furrowed and she seemed geared up to rip Jane's head off when she burst out laughing. It was then that the overprotective detective realized her friend was hammered.

"This is not funny," Jane pointed out.

The doctor was now doubled over, fits of laughter causing her to lose her breath.

"Actually..." she tried deep breaths. "It is..." a hiccup escaped. "Quite funny."

Increasingly irritated with Maura, Jane turned her back to her and went toward the sink where she filled a large glass of water. She then reached in the cupboard, getting out two pills, before leaving both on the edge of the countertop and nodding toward them.

"I thought you were an intruder," Jane sighed.

"You do realize this is my house, right?" Maura's smile was radiant, albeit inebriated.

"Of course I do," she snapped.

"I just wanted to be sure since you insist on sneaking in to sleep on the couch every night as if it's entirely your own."

Rolling her eyes, Jane was defensive.

"Sneaking! You're the one sneaking. I thought you were in bed. I didn't get here until midnight. Your car is here. Where the hell have you been?"

Taking a drink of the water, swallowing the pills she would be grateful for come morning, Maura sat down at her kitchen counter and deliberately avoided eye contact. She may have been drunk, but that didn't prevent her from being ashamed.

"I wanted a few drinks. I thought it safer to not drive myself. Not that it's any of your business."

That last bit had been Maura's own form of defensiveness and it hit its mark. Jane was stung.

"Maura, you were abducted, for Christ's sake! Going out on your own is dangerous. At least you could have let me drive you," she admonished the woman before her.

"I'm a grown woman, Jane."

Steely hazel eyes were breaking the stubborn detective into pieces. What was happening? Why was Maura behaving like this?

"Fine, don't care about your safety, but you can't stop me from caring about it," Jane turned her back at the sink, she got her own drink and was taking her time sipping it to avoid having to look at Maura.

"I'm not the one in danger. It's you this psychopath is after. Remember? It's you that needs to worry about safety! It's you that needs protecting!" tears threatened Maura's eyesight and ability to control her emotions.

"Don't you think I know that they're after me?" she was clearly argumentative and angry. "But you're wrong, I don't need protecting."

"How can you say that?!" Maura was all but yelling.

"Because they can't do anything to me now. They can't possibly do anything that will hurt anywhere as much as what they've already done," Jane was fuming, her nostrils flaring and her hand movements exaggerated. "Don't you get that? They took you, Maur! They took you and that's the worst possible thing they could have done to me."

The weight of the detective's words broke through the haze created by all the alcohol Maura had consumed.

"Is that why you insist on sneaking in to sleep on my couch? Is this penance? You don't owe me anything, Jane. They aren't going to come after me again," she tried to remain focused and not slur her words.

"If I had been there..." Jane sighed.

"You know how irrational that sounds, right?" the alcohol had erased Maura's ability to self-censor. "It was designed to get me alone. There was no way for you to know."

"I wish I'd been there," Jane was tired, tired of the threat on her life and tired of feeling as if she owed everyone she couldn't keep safe an apology.

The detective leaned back against the sink; her posture slumped, signaling defeat.

"Did you know that dehydration is the main reason people experience hangovers?" Maura had changed the subject, but Jane wasn't opposed.

"Do you need more water" Jane attempted to follow her friend's train of thought.

"Perhaps I should have another glass."

Nodding and taking the glass, Jane refilled it.

"Did you have a lot to drink?" she asked.

"Far more than I should have alone and on a work night," she responded honestly.

When the glass exchanged hands, Maura's fingers brushed Jane's and for a moment she considered telling the cop everything she was feeling that she couldn't understand and attributed to her abduction.

"Are you going to be okay?" Jane felt a loss when Maura's hand broke away.

"I am," she smiled.

They had retired to Maura's bedroom, Jane having been convinced that there was no point in sleeping on the couch.

Jane sat staring at the wall, unable to prepare for bed and no longer aware of the goings and comings of the doctor as she passed from her closet to the en suite to prepare for bed.

She knew what it felt like. Perhaps that's why it was eating Jane up. She knew what Maura was going through and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

That feeling she knew so well, that terror of being jarred from a deep sleep where demons chased her and tormented her, leaving her afraid of the dark. She knew that feeling of never wanting to sleep again for fear of what might come to her as she fell into what should be a relaxing, restorative state.

She knew that there was nothing those around her could do. What had to be done was within her. Of course, she had a little help from pharmaceuticals, a prescription she had refused numerous times only to eventually accept it in defeat and desperation.

"Have you ever considered going back to Medicins sans Frontiers?" Jane asked a question she didn't know the answer to and was terrified of a certain answer to.

"What?" Maura peaked around the doorjamb of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand.

"You know, in Africa or wherever."

"MSF is currently doing their most important work in Syria as that civil war rages on," the doctor's answer was impersonal.

"That doesn't answer my question," Jane's stubbornness could be heard in her tone.

"No, I haven't," Maura spoke firmly. "Not since Ian."

Jane didn't need an explanation. She knew how crushed her friend had been when the once love of her life had left Boston and left Maura behind.

"Would you consider doing it again?" she continued on this path.

"No," she spoke without hesitation.

"Would you want to be closer to your parents?" she changed tactics.

"Jane," Maura sighed, she finally knew why the detective was asking.

Maura spit toothpaste into the sink, returning her toothbrush to the holder. She slowly shut off the bathroom light and walked over to the bed as she collected her thoughts.

"I'm not going anywhere, " she sat down next to Jane, taking her hand.

"But it might be safer," Jane's voice was fighting off strangling emotions.

"What more could happen? Wouldn't you think that if they wanted me dead they wouldn't have wasted their time after the abduction itself?" she was able to speak of death casually.

A tear escaped Jane's eye and she quickly wiped it away. The very thought broke Jane.

"I don't want anything else to happen to you," her voice cracked.

Placing a hand beneath Jane's chin, she turned the detective's face to her own, their eyes meeting.

"I think we should talk about getting you protection again. At least until we can catch this guy," Maura gave a gentle squeeze to Jane's hand. "I want you to stay here. Forget the townhouse. You should have just stayed here after the fire. As much as you loved living with Frankie."

Jane rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious," Maura's thumb was now rubbing the cop's jaw.

"I didn't want to get in your way. And I didn't want you to grow tired of me," Jane shrugged.

"I could never grow tired of Jane Rizzoli," Maura smiled.

"I know I'm difficult. Stubborn as hell and easily irritated are not the traits of a good house guest," Jane watched Maura's thumb tracing the raised scar on her hand.

"First of all, you are not a houseguest. You are my friend, my best friend even, and I may find you difficult at times, but it's short lived. You are who you are, Jane," she pressed a kiss to Jane's chin, dark eyes closing briefly. "Stop sleeping on my couch."

The subtle raise of a dark eyebrow prompted an explanation.

"I want you in my bed," she pressed a kiss to Jane's lips.

Jane smiled into the kiss.

"How can I argue with that?"

To be continued…