It was quite dark outside as Jane and Maura started the long walk back home, but neither of them could care less: Jane felt like she had enough energy to run ten miles. Although the talk with Angela had been one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of her life, it had felt good to actually be the one speaking for once. Angela had always had a tendency to lecture, and even if it was all meant well, it was still usually very one-sided. This time she had been the one listening, giving Jane the time to articulate her thoughts instead of cutting her down.

While Jane knew it would be a while before Angela fully accepted her relationship with Maura (if she ever did), she at least felt good knowing that Angela had accepted the fact that the decision was made and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Thanks for makin' me do that, Maura," Jane said after they'd been walking a minute or two.

Nobody was quite within hearing distance; there were just a few people out on their porches. "You're the one who decided we should go," Maura replied.

"Only after you put the idea in my head. In the old days…" She shrugged. "I'd have just let it go. I'd never have wanted to talk about it."

"Yes, but Angela would have wanted to, probably—and you'd have had to listen—"

"Nope. No I wouldn't have. I'd have just walked off."

"You wouldn't have tried to defend yourself?"

Jane thought about it for a moment. "To Angela? I dunno. She's pretty persistent, in case ya haven't noticed. She don't like to be wrong, or be corrected."

"Hmm, sounds like someone I know," Maura said, giving Jane's arm a gentle squeeze. She had meant it teasingly, but the more she thought about it, the truer it was. Was something like stubbornness passed down by family, or was it an attitude that could be learned? "Perhaps that's a quality you picked up from her, Jane." Careful to keep her tone light, Maura added almost casually, "I'd appreciate it if it wasn't passed on to the next generation."

It took Jane a moment to catch on. "Oh. You mean to our little brood?"

"A brood?" Maura laughed. "So now it's more than one?"

"Well yeah," Jane chuckled. "You'd want more than one, wouldn't ya?"

Maura just smiled to herself, and that was enough of an answer for Jane. They walked in silence for a few moments longer, and once they passed the boarding house where Maura had once lived, Jane said, "I did that for them, you know."

"Did what?"

"Talked to Angela. Came back to ya. I sure as hell don't ever want you thinkin' I'm a coward, Maura, but I don't have to set an example for ya. I want any kids we got to be proud they're mine, and I want 'em to know that I won't ever give up or run away from 'em. And y'know, Maura, I believe one of the best ways I can show my kids I love 'em is to love their mother." She brought Maura's hand up and kissed it. "And I mean you. I ain't gonna make a mess of things like that again."

"That means the world to me, Jane," came the murmured response. "I can't tell you how much it warms my heart to hear it. You know, I had sort of a funny thought the other day. Well, it wasn't that funny, actually, and I suppose it wasn't really a thought. It was a dream, a daydream."

"What about?"

"You and a little girl."

"Ours?"

"Yes, ours. She had woken up in the middle of the night, because she'd had a bad dream, and you went in to comfort her. But she was inconsolable, and you couldn't calm her down until you told her a story. You wanted to share one of your adventures with Frost, but those were all too big and exciting for a scared girl trying to fall asleep, so she requested Cinderella instead."

"Cinderella. Is… in the Old Testament?"

Maura had a pretty good laugh at that one, and it was not mean-spirited, which allowed Jane to grin a little at her own perceived ignorance. "Jane! It's a fairy tale!"

"Ohhh, right. Yeah, it sounds kind of familiar. How's it go?"

"Jane, you must know the story of Cinderella."

"I must?"

Maura glanced over to see Jane's baffled expression, and it made her inexplicably sad to think Jane didn't know this story. "Would you like me to refresh your memory?" she offered, and Jane nodded. "Well, once upon a time—and you'll have to learn to overlook the inaccuracies and unlikely situations, Jane, as it's only a fairy tale—there was a girl named Cinderella who had only a stepmother and two stepsisters, none of whom were kind to her at all. They were in fact rather wicked, and made a slave of Cinderella. But she grew up dutiful and kind, and then one day it was announced that every eligible maiden in the kingdom was invited to a ball being thrown for the prince."

"A ball?"

"A sort of party, with lots of dancing. The goal was to find someone for the prince to marry. Now naturally, Cinderella wanted to go to the ball."

"Naturally."

"But of course her wicked stepmother refused to let her."

"Of course." Jane was mostly humoring her now, as she found Maura's enthusiasm in telling the tale very amusing. She wondered if Maura was even aware of the storytelling lilt in her tone.

"So everyone else left for the ball, and Cinderella thought she was all alone, when suddenly her fairy godmother appeared!"

"A fairy godmother?"

"Yes! So she can grant wishes with her magic. Cinderella asks to go to the ball, and the fairy godmother grants her wish, and turns a pumpkin into a coach for her to take, and gets her a beautiful dress, and turns some mice into horses!"

Jane's grin widened. "And what does the dress look like, little girl?"

"Oh! It's sort of a silvery drab, with lace frills and a pearl pin, and she has blue velvet gloves to accompany her—" Maura cut off when she heard Jane trying to contain her laughter. "Well anyway, that's how I always imagined it would look," she said in a lofty voice. "And oh, I almost forgot! Glass slippers. I know they don't sound very practical, but I suppose because they were made with magic, they were unbreakable. Anyway, she gets to the ball and the Prince is taken with her at once. They dance, and they have a wonderful time, but then it's midnight, so she has to leave."

"How come?"

"Well, because the spell breaks at midnight," Maura said as if this were obvious, forgetting she had neglected to mention the caveat earlier. "So she runs back home, before the Prince ever finds out her name. Now personally, I think the more reasonable thing to do would have been to ask around and see who owned a pair of glass slippers, but instead, the Prince sends one of his assistants to each house to try on a glass slipper Cinderella accidentally left behind."

"Why?"

"So he can find her again."

"So why don't he go? Why's he send an assistant?"

"I'm…well, because that would make it too simple, I suppose."

Jane snorted. "I suppose. Hell, Maura. If I danced with you some place, and I didn't know your name, and had only a glass slipper to go on, I'd go to every house in the territory to find ya again."

Maura smiled as she pictured Jane dressed in royal accoutrement, with brass buttons going down a finely tailored, cream-colored jacket and red trousers—the outfit she had always pictured the Prince in this story to be wearing.

"If I'd been dancing with you," she said, "I'd have made sure you knew my name before I left."

"Good. Now what happens at the end?"

"Well in the end, the duke comes to Cinderella's house, and tries the glass slipper on her stepsisters first. They try awful things to try and get their big feet to fit into the shoes: one of them cuts off her toes, and the other cuts off her heel. And both times, the shoe fits, but it fills up with blood and the stepsisters can't walk in them properly. Jane, this really isn't funny!"

"I just didn't expect blood!" Jane laughed. "It's—aw, that's a real twist in the end there, Maura. I like it!"

"Of course you do," Maura sighed. "Anyway, the duke finally finds Cinderella, the shoe fits, and she and the Prince get married and live happily ever after. Oh, and the stepsisters get their eyes gouged out by birds," she added matter-of-factly.

They had just reached the end of town, and would have been engulfed completely in darkness had it not been for the moon. Jane was contemplating the story, and eventually said, "Hm. So all it took for the prince to marry Cinderella was finding the right shoe, huh?"

"Well, it is just a children's story," Maura said. "Romance doesn't need to be complex at that age. It's simple. Courting is not an issue."

"Boy, I sure had to court the hell out of you, didn't I?" Jane asked with a short laugh.

"I assure you, I was not in any way attempting to be a tease," Maura giggled. "It's only that so many layers of ignorance cloaked what was right in front of me. Angela's question got me thinking. I mean, about when our friendship became something more."

With an airy sigh, Jane tossed her head back and said, "I reckon you was hooked from the start, weren't ya? How did you resist me for so long? No foolin', Maura, what attracted you to me?"

"Well, I suppose it would be your strength, first of all. I had been around strong-minded women like my mother, but I had never been around anyone, not even a man, who possessed your appetite for adventure. I remember the first time I saw you, thinking what a force of nature you were. And… well, I already told you what happened on Thanksgiving," she said with a blush Jane couldn't see. "After that, I became very conscious of your physicality."

Jane's tone made it evident that she was quite pleased with herself. "Yeah? Such as what?"

Normally Maura might not have been so quick to indulge, but she figured after Jane's bravery in confronting Angela, she deserved a bit of ego-inflating. "Well, you know I've always had an eye for detail, Jane. It wasn't just your exquisite bone structure; it was everything from the way your shoulder blades would flex to the way your dimples would just suddenly appear whenever I got you to laugh." She sighed and lowered her voice. "I loved getting to watch you work, and seeing your shirts—especially the white ones—stick to your skin with the sweat of your labor."

"You've got good taste," Jane said. "I figure ya can't call yourself a decent worker out here unless you can work up a sweat. An honest man ain't ever too clean all the time, 'cause he's drumming himself up some hard, honest work."

"You know what else I found positively distracting?"

"What?"

"When you would wear riding chaps and that one pair of jeans that was a bit tight on you, and I'd watch your derrière as you walked away."

"Maura!" Jane gasped. "What a thing for a lady to say!"

"I think that's quite enough from me! It's your turn now, Jane."

"Shucks, Maura, I don't rightly know when I first fell for ya." That said, it didn't take long for Jane to find the words to continue: "I felt different about ya from just about the start. You didn't almost seem real to me, you were so fancy and so smart and so beautiful. I just felt so good every time I looked at ya, every time ya smiled at me, every time ya touched me. I thought …I thought at first that was just how it felt to have a friend, but… well, that turned out to be wrong."

When it sounded like Jane wasn't going to add anything else, Maura pressed her, "When did you know?"

"Gosh, Maura, I dunno. I was real confused. I was real jealous, though, when I found out Mr. Fairfield had kissed ya. I don't know that I'd have called it jealousy straight off, but it made me so angry to think about. And it weren't 'cause of your virtue or nothin'; it was that he had kissed you. As far as really wantin' to touch ya goes, well, you know it was that corset."

That had been a horrifying night for other reasons, and Maura gave Jane's hand a squeeze to let her know she didn't need to continue if she didn't want to.

But Jane pushed on: "Remember ya came to get me, and I sent ya upstairs ahead of me?"

"Yes. I figured you were just speaking with someone on the staff."

"Nope," Jane sighed. "I had to go outside to cool off a bit. I just really lost it seein' ya in that outfit. I hadn't ever felt that way about someone before, and it sure wasn't 'cause I was proper. It was just 'cause I'd never wanted to. But I saw ya in that thing, and I just wanted to peel it right off ya." Without realizing it, Jane's footsteps had slowed and her voice had deepened slightly. "I wanted to see and touch all of ya."

"Did that scare you?" Maura whispered.

Jane's voice was quiet also. "Yeah. Yeah, it did." A deep breath, and her pace went back to normal. "But somethin' else pretty scary showed up right after, so I didn't have much time to dwell on it." She cleared her throat, not wanting to get stuck on as unpleasant a subject as Charles Hoyt. "Anyhow, I could tell ya when I knew for sure that I was in love with ya."

Maura felt her heart skip in anticipation. "Really? When?"

"It was your birthday, after I took ya to that opera. I just remember thinkin' how much I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay with ya, I wanted to go home with ya. But I knew I couldn't, so I just returned Korsak's carriage and was gonna go back to my place before I figured I just had to see ya again. It'd done me so good, bein' with ya, after sittin' around in Green Forge for a week, watching Hoyt. Yup," she said, as if to herself. "It'd done me a world of good. So I thought I'd go by the boarding house again and see if a light was on in your window. Not only could I see a light, but I could hear music playin' on that instrument Fairfield got ya. I knew it was the opera we'd just gone to, and I remembered how much you'd lit up when that particular song came in the show. Your face was like a candle on a Christmas tree. So I got my harmonica and started to play along, just hoping you'd maybe hear me."

"And I did," Maura said, her voice as weak as her legs felt.

The darkness hid the width of Jane's smile, but Maura could hear it in her voice: "You opened your window, and I had to stop for a second 'cause the sight of ya took my breath right away. I finished the song and I felt that feelin' again of not wantin' to leave ya, and I just …I just knew. I finally knew I had fallen in love."

Maura was lost for words, and only considered it a miracle that she could keep walking on this point. "If I may ask one more thing of you, Jane… what was going through your head when you kissed me for the first time?"

Jane inhaled deeply, and didn't let the breath out right away. "It's hard to say, I guess. I was still so afraid of everything that'd happened, and how you'd gotten hurt. I thought for sure I had to leave, 'cause I was hurtin' ya. I couldn't believe I was hurtin' ya more by staying away. Everything felt like it was upside-down; Hoyt dead, Fairfield gone, me finally having an excuse to run off but wanting so bad to stay for the first time."

Remembering it all made Maura's head spin. Trying to convince Jane to stay had been so taxing, and the weight had lifted from her only when that kiss took place.

"And I remember you goin' on about how everything had changed for ya," Jane said, her voice lowering as they passed the corral. "And even though I was saying how great your future could be in this town, I didn't really know what was next for ya, and you didn't either. And you said you loved me, which you'd never said before, and it just hit me over the head like a hammer."

"What did?" Maura asked breathlessly.

Jane furrowed her brow, describing the thought only in retrospect. "That I wanted to be what was happenin' next." For a moment she paused, and Maura stopped walking, bringing Jane to a halt as well. She was mulling it over, and rubbing the back of her neck, eventually mumbled, "I didn't go there planning to kiss ya. The idea just sort of came to me in the moment, like I had nothin' to lose. Kissing you then felt like just the natural thing to do, as natural as breathin'."

Maura pulled her down into a kiss, and closing her eyes, she was able to pretend they were back in that moment when their lips had first touched. That sensation and the rightness of it was one that had dug its memory into their very bones. This closeness, unprecedented for either of them, was something they had instantly known not to take for granted.

"Boy, I got you wore out already?" Jane murmured, finally noticing Maura's labored breathing.

"No," Maura said with a weak laugh. "It was such a long walk from Angela's. Why didn't we just stay at the tavern and get a room tonight?"

"Well for one thing, goin' over there, we didn't know yet if she'd kick us out on our rears," Jane said. "But for another thing…" She bent down and swept Maura off her feet, continuing the now-short trek to their house with Maura's arms wrapped around her neck. "The walls in that tavern are pretty thin, and even if Angela's accepted that we ain't interested in pursuing anyone else romantically, I don't think she'd have been up for hearin' you cry my name all—night—long."

She punctuated the last three words with quick kisses. These were met with no protest, but after the last one, Maura felt obligated to at least act affronted. "Jane!"

"Oh, what?" Jane asked with a smirk, climbing up their porch. She had never actually told Maura this, but hearing Maura say her name during the height of the act—be it in a shout, a moan, or even a whisper—was a surefire way to send a white-hot jolt like an arrow down from Jane's throat to between her legs. "You're mighty loud, Maura, and ya know it. That's how come we've gotta live so far outside of town. Don't want you disturbing the fine people of the Creek."

Maura huffed as Jane pushed her against the front door, quickly twisting open the knob. "Jane Rizzoli, you are such a—"

What exactly Jane was she never found out, because the rest of Maura's faux indignation was stifled by a hungry kiss. Maura grinned to herself as she heard the door get kicked shut again, and Jane broke off the kiss to carry Maura to the bedroom. Clearly it was time to fully make up.

"That talk about keeping me all night," Maura whispered, kissing Jane's neck. "Was that a threat, or hyperbole?"

"It was a promise," Jane said, depositing Maura on the edge of the bed and shrugging off her vest. It had barely dropped to the floor before Jane was on her hands and knees on the bed, hovering over Maura, on her back already. "And you know me," Jane murmured, leaning down. "It may take me a while sometimes, but I don't ever break a promise."

Maura's hands lifted to tangle themselves in Jane's hair, pulling her down a bit too hard for a kiss. They laughed and broke apart for a moment, and once it looked like Jane was ready to try and kiss her again, Maura brushed her thumb over Jane's lips.

"Feel free to take your time tonight, deputy."

Jane had already been up for half an hour when she heard a knock at the door, so she really had no excuse for opening it in such a haphazard state of dress.

In her defense, she had been doing some pretty heavy thinking after sleeping in later than usual. Sunlight was pouring into the bedroom from the window near the ceiling, casting a beautiful golden glow on Maura's honey-colored hair. Maura was lying on her stomach, facing away from Jane, but there was still plenty for Jane to admire: the blue coverlet, while tucked beneath her arm, exposed much of Maura's bare back and all of her bared shoulder.

Out of habit, Jane still took a second every morning she woke up to ensure that Maura's body was moving with her breathing. This was something she could not help checking each time she saw a sleeping companion. Several years ago, disguised as Jake, she had overheard some men planning to find Frost in the middle of the night and kill him. Rather than tell Frost, Jane had simply suggested they leave town that night, and he agreed. Jane had intended to stay awake the entire time Frost slept, but the move had wearied her, and she nodded off for just under an hour. When she woke up, Frost had still been asleep, but for a few terrifying moments, Jane convinced herself somebody had killed him and left his dead body there to taunt her. But she saw his chest going up and down as he slept peacefully. She was on edge ever the same.

It was a dreadful habit to live with, but Jane couldn't help it. No matter how secure she felt with Maura, that was a paranoia which refused to die.

As she sat there watching Maura sleep, it dawned on Jane that if they ever did get around to taking in some children, Maura would have to work on being a bit quieter during their bouts of intimacy. Even though it probably wasn't something to find amusing (it would be a legitimate hurdle, she was sure of that), Jane couldn't help grinning to herself at the thought of this. What sobered her up was the realization that they didn't have any room to put children in this house: it had been built for two. Either Jane's cellar would have to be converted into a bedroom for them, or they would need to add on.

Before Jane could decide which of these ideas was better, she had heard a knock on the door. It was quick, but not harried—probably Korsak. She rolled out of bed, grabbing the denim pair of pants Maura had tossed to the floor last night, hopping into them and buttoning them with one hand as the other reached for the black, ruffled shirt that had landed perfectly on the far left bed knob.

Half the buttons weren't done correctly and her hair was swept carelessly to one side when Jane wrenched the door open. Korsak was indeed the one standing there. "Yes?" Jane asked, sounding a little out of breath.

He raised his eyebrows. "Well there, Sleeping Beauty. I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"What? 'Course not," Jane yawned, opening the door a bit wider so Korsak could come inside before remembering the bedroom door was still open. There was indeed nothing sleepy at all in the manner with which she sprinted back across the room to close it before Korsak could catch a glimpse of Maura's lack of dress.

"Ain't the doc up yet?" Korsak asked conversationally.

"Uh…no," Jane said, tucking her shirt in. "No, we had kind of a late night. What can I do ya for, Sheriff?"

"Well for starters, you could come in for work," Korsak said, holding out his hands as if to say this was merely an option, although his tone indicated otherwise. "But before you do that, I thought you might like to read this. It came for you yesterday."

"What is it?"

"A letter. From Frost."

"Frost? Where is that son of a gun?"

"It's all here in this letter, I'm sure, if it's anything like the one he sent me."

With another yawn, Jane waved her hand at Korsak and headed for the kitchen. There was no food in the house, but Maura had at some point thought to bring in a bucket of water, which Jane was now dipping into. "Go on and read it for me," she said before splashing her face a bit. "I can't read nothin' this early."

"You sure?" Korsak asked, although he was already unfolding the letter. He glanced up, and Jane nodded. "All right then. A-hem: 'Dear Jane. I hope this message finds you and the doc in good health, whenever you do return from Boston. I got the itch to travel a bit myself when you left, and the Sheriff —honorable, good-hearted, selfless fellow that he is—"

"Get back to Frost, Korsak."

"'The Sheriff agreed to let me take off from my duties for a short spell. I hope you don't mind but I went off to find Anna Ferrell, my old girl. I know we were going to go together once we caught Hoyt, but you never said a thing about it after you and Maura got on good terms again.'"

Jane couldn't help feeling a pang of guilt at this. She had been so wrapped up in her own good fortune at having found someone that she had neglected her promise to Frost.

But as if anticipating she would feel that way, Frost's letter went on, "'I hope you don't go feeling bad for letting me down, or not being with me. I only had agreed to let you come along so you'd have something to do, a new goal as it were. I didn't want to go until I felt good and ready, and now I feel ready. I haven't found her yet, but I did find a family we all used to be good friends with, and they know where Anna ended up. If you can believe it, she's not married yet. I'll be heading to find her soon, and if she's willing, bringing her back to Hollow Creek as my wife.' Well, I'll be!" Korsak chuckled. "Ain't that somethin'?"

"Sure is!" Jane laughed. "He say anything else?"

Korsak sobered up a bit as he continued to read: "My only fear is that I won't have enough money for her. I know she won't expect or ask for much, but I feel like a man ought to have at least some security before he goes asking a woman to marry him. So I may take a while to get back once I find her, because I want to try and get any job I can get to make some more money before I ask her.' Huh," Korsak mumbled. "I'd have given him some money upfront if he'd asked for it."

"Nah," Jane muttered, now fully awake. "I don't think he'd have taken it." Korsak asked why, and she shrugged. "That all?"

"Nope. 'So anyhow, write back if you can. I hope to return soon. In the meantime, if you find any spare gold lying around, send it my way! Sincerely, Frost.'" Korsak looked up to see Jane deep in thought. After a long pause, he folded the letter and asked, "I see the cogs goin' in your head. What's on your mind, Calamity Jane?"

She sighed, pounding her fist into an open palm. "I been thinkin' about something lately, Korsak," she said. It had been on her mind since the night she and Maura returned from Boston, and she had symbolically shot through the stage mustache she'd worn as Jake.

"Oh? And what's that?"

Jane pulled a chair over towards the end of the sofa where Korsak had been sitting. She set herself down on it backwards, resting her folded arms on the top. "Y'know who needs a good send-off?" It took a moment, but comprehension finally dawned on Korsak's face, and he did not look pleased about his guess. Jane confirmed it by asking, "What's the going rate these days on Jake Wyatt's head?"