Angry Jane, Embarrassed Jane, Unpleasant Jane, and Annoyed Jane were all Janes that BPD knew how to handle. Even if it wasn't fun, there was unspoken protocol in place; ways to get around and work with Detective Rizzoli—only if strictly necessary, of course.

Nobody knew what to make of Slighted Jane.

It was more than moodiness, and more than just being upset. She wasn't joking around, and she also wasn't acting all gruff and business-driven. There were no open cases, and in spite of the cold case folders piled on her desk, she was staring out the window, aimless. Frost and Korsak kept exchanging glances as they passed her desk, each of them trying to engage her in some sort of conversation, with no luck. Frankie came up, and when he asked Jane if he was okay, all she did was ask him to steer clear of their mother. Angela had gotten the gist of what happened from Maura, and while Jane appreciated that her mother was on her side, she didn't want it all broadcast yet.

But enough was enough, and after half a day of drone-Jane, Frankie took her by the elbow and dragged her towards the elevator for a private conversation.

"What's goin' on, sis?"

"Nothing, Frankie." She shrugged. "Just leave it."

"No, I'm not letting you off the hook this time! If it were me, and I was moping around the building not talking to anybody, not getting any work done, and closing up after I'd been unrecognizably giddy for days on end? You'd get on my tail to find out what had happened!"

Jane's frown deepened. "Giddy?"

"Yeah, giddy! I didn't wanna make any comments about it 'cause I know, you're too cool," he said, rolling his eyes and holding his hands up. "So I didn't want to spoil whatever was going on by making you self-conscious about it. But now you're upset. And I can't just stand by and do nothin' when you're upset, Jane. You're my sister. Let me act like your brother."

Jane sighed. "Frankie..."

"Was it a guy?" Frankie guessed in a low voice. Even as Jane was shaking her head, he went on, "I know you can take care of yourself if it was ever, y'know, like you were in physical danger or something. But if he broke your heart—"

"No, Frankie."

"—I don't care how cliché it is; I'll break his face!"

"It's not a guy, Frankie."

"So what is it, then?!"

"It's a girl!" His mouth fell open. He couldn't have looked more shocked if Jane had just told him she'd decided to give up detective work for a life in the ballet. On Mars. "It's a girl," she repeated, a little more quietly and looking a little more serious, less agitated.

Frankie's eyes darted to the left, making sure nobody was within hearing distance. His mouth was still hanging open in shock, and reverting his gaze back to Jane, he could see her looking uneasily at him. Waving his hand, he tried to stall, to come up with something to fill the silence.

"H…was it that woman who you left the café with the other day? The one who looked like Maura?"

"Yeah, it was her."

She stuffed her hands in her pockets and leaned against the wall, staring at the floor. Frankie still looked baffled; he removed his hat and fumbled with it as he tried to think of something to say. Whenever Jane dared to glance at him, he would avert his gaze.

During the silence, Jane thought to herself that while Kate had surely contributed much to her giddiness, a lot of it had probably also come with the freedom of just being out with her. True, the world at large still hadn't been told, but Jane's best friend and her mother knew, easing off a huge load of the self-inflicted weight on her back. She was giddy because she was enjoying more than just the occasional one-night stand, heavily guarded and secret, playing a part in some ways. Now she knew the potential for joy that she had, not just fleeting pleasure.

Which, of course, paved the way for heartbreak over mere disappointment.

"So are you actually surprised?" Jane muttered, unsure of what she hoped his answer would be.

It took Frankie a moment to answer. To be honest, he had sort of started to wonder, if only because Jane never seemed to really try to make any relationships (with men) last. But those had only been fleeting thoughts, ones he'd never tried to make stick hard to the surface.

"I…guess I just really wasn't expecting you to say that," he said. Seeing the anxious look on her face, he was quick to add, "Don't uh, don't worry, though. You're still my sister, Jane."

She sensed the hesitancy in his tone. "But…?"

"But… nothing. I'll—it's nothing, Jane. You like women. Okay. Is it like, just women, or do you think you'd still…?"

Jane flinched a little. "Nope. It's just women, Frankie."

"Oh. Okay. Gotcha." Before another painfully long silence could separate them, he thought to ask, "Does Ma know?"

"Yeah," Jane muttered. "She does. I kinda had to tell her."

"And you couldn't tell me?"

"Don't turn this into a prioritizing thing," Jane groaned. "That's really not fair to me, Frankie. And besides, I told Maura first and Ma would've been bound to get it out of her eventually."

"Maura. Do you like her?"

Jane pushed away from the wall, and her morose visage turned very angry. "Sure, Frankie! I like women, so I must like every woman I see, every female friend I've ever had, and oh sure, you can bet Maura's right at the top of that list!"

She moved past him to get into an elevator, and he said, "C'mon, Jane, I didn't mean that!"

As she ignored him and just pushed the elevator button to go down, she wasn't sure which was worse: knowing his last comment was sincere, or knowing he'd been right to guess at her attraction to Maura.

Because really, hadn't Maura Isles been the instigator of all of this?

Jane had had best friends before, but not like this. She'd been close with people before, but not like this. Saying "see you later" was fine, being out of touch for longer than a day was certainly fine. There were a very select few girls Jane could remember being friends with in high school who she'd rearrange schedules for, who she'd go to boring events with just because they wanted her to. And the more she thought about it, the less she imagined it had been for mere loyalty. She had genuinely liked some of those girls.

Maura was the only friend she'd had as an adult who she spent this much time with. Was she incredibly beautiful? Yes, but that wasn't the only thing that pulled Jane towards her. She found herself becoming touchy-feely. She would stay overnight. She would find excuses to ditch her dates early because Maura was so much more fun to hang out with. Late at night, lying in the dark, she would find herself thinking about it—all the what if's and the am I…?

And then that case at the Merch had blown everything wide open. It had given Jane a taste of the world she'd been so curious about, shown her that she didn't need to be stilted and awkward at bars. She could be loose, she could be relaxed, she could be the coolest version of herself because she felt cool. Like she was in the right place.

From the start, she had resolved not to pursue Maura.

"And, you don't wanna sleep with me. …do you?"

Look of slight disgust. "No!"

"Well, it's a good thing you're not my type."

That wasn't to mention the fact that Maura was always eager to make her go dating, always quick to point out why she ought to be sleeping with whichever guy she was dating at the time. Maybe it wasn't relentless in the way Angela had done it, just wanting Jane to find a man who could take care of her, but it was still that sense of dating-men-makes-me-happy-and-it-will-make-you–happy.

Even if Maura had been interested, there was that terrible thought of what would happen if they broke up—which, considering Jane's track record with dating, felt inevitable. The falling-out after Doyle had been bad enough. Jane still cursed herself for the loneliness she had put Maura through, removing not only herself but her mother and Frankie. Work became a cold place, and Maura was left with basically no one but Bass to comfort her after the day was through. Surely adding heartbreak into all that would just make it worse?

It was easy for Jane to tell herself to get over something she never admitted she even wanted. Still, she unconsciously pursued women who looked strikingly different from Maura, until Kate had come along.

Here was a great match: Kate knew how to play the game. She bantered back. She was aggressive, she pulled back when necessary, she was gorgeous and the most irresistible quality of all: she was very, very into Jane.

Or so it had seemed.

Jane reached the morgue, and Maura was sitting by her computer, reviewing some files. For a moment, Jane just stood by the door, watching Maura study. One hand rested on the keypad, the other at her chin. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, a small frown on her lips. When Jane took a step forward, Maura turned to see who it was, and Jane felt her heart give a familiar flutter when she saw her presence had caused Maura's expression to lighten.

"Hi," Maura said, getting to her feet. "How are you feeling, Jane?"

"Hung over," Jane snorted. She sighed and leaned against one of the empty autopsy tables. "I feel kinda bad about how I'm treating the guys upstairs. It's not like any of 'em know I got duped, but still."

"Jane, I want to help you get through this," Maura said.

Jane smiled weakly. Of course Maura would say that. Years of steadfastly getting through break-ups on her own, not answering Angela's phone calls about them, and suddenly Maura had come into her life and made everything so much easier to deal with.

"Thanks," she muttered. "I just don't even really know what to do at this point. I kind of feel like taking myself out of circulation."

"If you think that's best."

"It might be."

Maura hesitated, then walked over to Jane, resting her hand on Jane's shoulder and waiting for that solemn gaze to meet hers. "Jane, I just want to make sure you know something."

She felt almost breathless. "What?"

"Your job…I know it's just—you do what you've been trained to do, and you don't like being treated as a hero, as anything special."

Not really sure where this was going or how it was relevant, Jane shrugged again. "Each of us suits up every day, Maura. We walk out those doors and there's no guarantee we'll come back. Just 'cause one of us actually does get caught in the crosshairs, that's no reason to give her a medal over the bravery everyone else in the unit has stored right down to their bones."

"You find ceremonies and congratulations superfluous."

"Kind of."

"Well, then, I want to congratulate you on your bravery in another area of your life. One that's just as important, that took a lot of courage, but that you're not likely to get awarded a medal for."

Once she got it, Jane's smile widened and she put her hand over Maura's. "Thanks," she said quietly. "I, uh…I just told Frankie."

"And?"

"I think he was just sort of caught off-guard about it."

"I'm sure he'll come around, he just needs time to adjust. This is a facet of your life you've embraced for a while now, Jane. Frankie's only had—"

"I know, I know," Jane cut her off. "I wasn't gonna say anything, but he talked about how happy I'd seemed lately, and I guess I just …I guess that's why. Being with her just made me feel so…" She waved her hand, as if trying to grope the right word out of the air in front of her, and when she settled on one, her voice was soft: "Free." She glanced at Maura, then forced out a laugh and self-consciously looked down at the floor. "That sounded kinda stupid, didn't it?"

"Not at all," Maura said seriously. "Jane, you don't let me say things like this very often, so will you just let me talk now and say how proud I am of you?"

"Aw, geez," Jane groaned, smiling a little.

"I mean it. I'm always proud of you, and I've always been proud of the amazing, selfless accomplishments you've achieved."

"Yeah, well, trying to get into Kate Todd's pants wasn't exactly selfless."

Though she winced a bit at the image, Maura plowed on, "That's my point. I'm glad to see that you're capable of getting your courage up in personal matters, as well. It helps reassure me that you're not the cyborg."

Jane looked impressed. "Was that a joke, Dr. Isles?"

Maura bit her lip. "Only if it was funny."

Laughing, Jane stood a little straighter and pulled Maura into a hug. "Using humor to lighten a situation? Now I'm proud of you!"

Meanwhile, Kate would have given her right arm for a supportive shoulder to lean on in person. She had gone to visit her favorite brother in Concord, the one she had stood by even while the rest of her family had given him a very cold shoulder during his non-Catholic-church approved divorce. Her parents hadn't been civil at his second wedding (which they attended mostly at Kate's insistence). If anyone in her family knew how it felt to be a little on the odds, it would be Peter, right?

Not so.

She explained what had brought her to Massachusetts in the first place, and he kept a brave face while she talked him through her assignment to date a female cop in an attempt to get some information. It was when she admitted that maybe she'd fallen a little harder for this cop than she should have (job-wise) that Peter's expression turned sour.

"Did you sleep with her?"

"No. No! That would've been highly unprofessional."

"But you—you like, you made out."

"Yes."

"For the job, or because you wanted to?"

"Both! I mean, I had to make out with her to convince her was I interested in her, and I happened to really, really like her at the same time."

"Okay, but the job's done now, right?" Peter asked. "So you're not gonna see her again, right?"

"I want to see her again. Because aside from the near-debilitating guilt I felt about lying to her, I enjoyed being around her. I looked forward to our dates, for all that implies."

Peter sounded a little panicked. "You still like guys, though, right? You're not like… a total lez or anything?"

Kate felt as though her chest was folding in on itself, her heart suddenly seemed so sluggish and hard. She knew that anger was etched into every line of her face, and there was nothing she could do—or wanted to do—to change that.

"Okay, brother, I'm kind of curious where you stand on the whole 'total lez' issue! Do you think the women in those dirty videos you used to watch were totally lezzies, or only when the cameras were on? As long as they only slept with guys where it really mattered, did the things they did in those movies bother you? Or was it okay, because you were getting something out of their exploitation?"

"Whoa, sis, calm down."

"Calm down?! Calm down?! When you've always been the rule breaker in our family and I always had your back, and I never judged you!"

"Well I never did something like this!" he yelled back.

"Like what?"

"You're my little sister, and no sister of mine's gonna go around—being—"

Kate stood up, and Peter followed suit. "Wow," she scoffed. "Peter, I really expected better from you. I thought I could talk to you."

"Look, Kate, you can, okay? We'll get you back to normal."

"I don't even know what kind of 'normal' I want anymore!" Kate said, yanking away her arm when her brother had reached for it. "I wanted somebody I could talk all this through with, someone who knew me really well, and I thought that was you. But if your only concern is going to be hypocritically trying to get me to conform to some standard you don't even hold yourself to—"

"I never tried sleeping with another guy!"

"Right, but adultery and divorce are totally fine!"

"It was justified! You know what Sarah was like, what she did to me!"

"That makes none of this okay, Peter! None of it! You found somebody who made you happy, and you found her where you weren't expecting it. All I'm asking is for you to extend that same courtesy to me." Her voice had lowered just a touch, as Peter still looked shocked and helpless. Her big brother suddenly looked so small. "I used to think it was all black and white. Right or wrong, yes or no, gay or straight."

"Jesus, Kate, don't tell me you're gonna go around now like one of those people who says 'sexuality is fluid,'" he snorted, affecting an accent and rolling his eyes.

"Peter, look. I used to think that way, too. That it was a dumb idea and only a handy excuse purported by people who wanted to try having sex with whoever they wanted whenever they wanted. But now it's happened to me."

"Kate? It was for work. You said so yourself. You just got a little confused, that's all."

"Yeah, I'm a little confused. I'm confused because I've never felt attracted to women before, and suddenly, I found myself trying to come up with excuses to get my hands on this one all the time. I'm confused, and that's not a bad thing!"

"Stay here, I'll set you straight."

Now it was Kate's turn to roll her eyes, and she turned and headed for the door. "No thanks. At this point, I'd rather talk this through with my partner, and that's really saying something."

"What, you're gonna go? Okay, fine. Don't confront this, just run away."

"I am confronting this; I'm just going to do it without your help," she hissed.

She was sitting in her car, trying to decide which hotel she should go to, when her phone started ringing. Grateful for the distraction, she picked it up without hesitation.

"Agent Todd."

"Kate! Why didn't you tell me?!"

The shrill excitement in Abby's tone made Kate jump, and she pulled the phone away from her ear for a second. "Abby?"

"Maura Isles!"

"What about her?" Kate sighed.

"Tony finally showed me a picture of—"

"She looks just like me, I know," Kate cut her off. "I'm sorry for not telling you. I was a little distracted."

"No, Kate, that's not it, I know this chick!"

Kate sat up a little straighter, almost dropping the phone. "You know her?"

"Yeah!"

"What, you met at some kind of forensics conference or something? You've read one of her articles…?"

"No! Remember how I told you I fooled around a little with a girl when I was getting my master's?"

"It was Maura Isles?!"

"No! No. Like I'd have been so lucky! The girl I did kiss was Maura's roommate, though. Maura was pretty chill. She owned a tortoise. I just couldn't remember her name, but I remembered the face when I saw it!"

The same went for Maura. When she opened her door that night to a goth-dressed woman with black pigtails, black lipstick, and a peppy smile on her face, she was at a loss for words.

"Is it my yarn?" Angela called from the kitchen.

"Dr. Isles?" Abby said.

She continued to smile as she watched Maura work through it, the name she'd been faxing case information to finally melding with the face of the woman standing on her doorstep. "Abby. Abby Sciuto!"

"Can I come in? I don't have any yarn, but I can help spin one for ya."