Jane stares at her cup of coffee. She avoids Maura's glance.
"You have to talk, eventually," Maura reminds her.
"I don't want to talk. I just want to sleep."
"I know."
"How can this be happening? How can this be my life?"
"What do you mean?"
"Maura I have lived on my own since I was eighteen. Now all of a sudden I have a six year old daughter."
"I know."
"And for the first time, in... too long, I have to live with a boy."
"A baby boy, your boy. He's sweet."
"If you think he's so sweet, then you get the next dirty diaper."
"I don't know about that."
"Maura, I don't know how to do this."
"You'll figure it out."
"I know how to be a cop. I am good at being a cop. I don't know how to be anyone's mother."
"You're going to have to learn, and quickly, because you have two kids, now."
"I know, and it scares the Hell out of me. Maura..."
"Just take it one step at a time."
"That is easy for you to say. You aren't in my position."
"I have no idea what it's like to be you. I admit that, but I would gladly trade you places. My whole life, all I ever wanted was a family of my own."
"My whole life, all I ever wanted, was a gun, and a badge."
"You have to figure out how to want something else, something more."
"You know, I thought the little one would scare me more. He's small, and new, and fragile. But... he doesn't."
"You know nothing about babies."
"He doesn't ask me questions. He just eats, and sleeps, and poops. He's easy. She's complicated."
"She's your daughter, what did you expect?"
"That she would be less like me. That nurture means more than nature."
"Sometimes it does, but sometimes it doesn't."
"Maura, she scares me."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because she's too much like me. She's complicated, and she doesn't talk."
"And all you want to do is grab her by the shoulders, and shake her, and make her talk? I know, I've been there."
"I'm not that bad."
"You don't let people in. She sees that."
"People are morons."
"Jane, you have to learn how to change."
"Why?"
"Because like it, or not, your life is changing."
"And I don't know if I can. I am afraid that everything is going to change, but me."
"Why?"
"I like things the way they were. I like eighty hour work weeks, and chasing down perpetrators. I like crappy coffee, and warm beer. I liked my life."
"You're scared?"
"I don't know how to be a parent. It's complicated, and messy, and I'm not any good at it."
"You will learn."
"I just want to be at work."
"Jane," Maura scolds her.
"I know what I'm doing there. I am not nurturing," she argues.
Maura smiles, "You are a protector. It's your job to protect them."
"I can't protect them from the whole world, no matter how hard I try. I don't think that I can do this on my own. There are two of them, and one of me."
"No one said that you have to do this on your own."
"I don't see anyone jumping at the chance."
"Your mother loves this. I think she has lived her entire life waiting for her chance to be a grandmother."
"I'm not like her. I don't want to be like her. My mother gave up everything, for us. She gave up every part of who she was, to raise us."
"Did you ever think, that she wanted to?"
Jane furrows her brow. Before she can answer footsteps interrupt. They stop in front of Jane. The dark haired little girl folds her arms over her chest.
"You're not supposed to sit on the counter."
"You're supposed to be sleeping."
"I'm done."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Get down."
"Why?"
"Please."
"Ok," Jane slides off the counter, "Are you hungry?"
"No."
"Then why are you standing there, staring at me?"
"I missed you," Abbie answers.
"Oh," it hits her. Jane reaches down, and lifts Abbie off the ground. She hoists her onto her hip, and squeezes her close to her body. She kisses her forehead.
"I missed you more," she counters.
Abbie wipes the slobbers from her face, "You slobbered all over me."
"It's my job."
"Put me down," Abbie squirms.
"Nope. I am going to hold you forever. I want you to be just like this, forever."
Abbie squirms more, "Down, please."
Jane puts her on the ground. Abbie runs for her room. She slams the door behind her.
"And in three seconds the baby will be awake too, because she slammed the door," Jane guesses.
They don't hear the baby crying. Maura looks at Jane, who looks down the hallway, just waiting.
"Maybe she wanted to," Maura reminds her.
Jane stares down the hallway, with a smile on her face, as she leans against the counter.
"Yeah, maybe she did."