Author's Note: Well, this is it! As always I want to thank all of you that have read and commented on this story. Your support and thoughts as you have read along have been wonderful and I really appreciate the time you all take to read and patiently wait for updates lol

As I have mentioned previously, I do have ideas for a sequel. But, I have been writing in the fandom fairly consistently for about two years and I think I'm going to take a break for an extended while to work on an idea of my own before taking up that sequel. Never fear though, I'm sure I won't be able to resist coming back to this universe in due time.


CH 28: Homecoming, Part 2

It seemed as if they should have everything to say to one another; yet, they sat in silence, trading awkward glances instead of words. Doyle shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he thought about what his old friend Ricky had said back in the Capitol. That day before the judge all those years ago, he truly hadn't been afraid. Nor had he been afraid during any of his hustles before they were caught. And strangely, despite his forced conscription as a Peacekeeper, nothing about that job had ever scared him either. But, now he sat in front of the one thing that did truly terrify him: his own daughter.

"You look like her," he said, breaking the silence.

"Hope?" Maura replied.

He nodded. "Your mother. I was glad you looked like her, that even with her gone I could still see a glimpse of her every day that I saw you."

Your mother. The words made her uncomfortable, the implication that the man sitting in front of her was her father even more so. "I have a mother. And I have a father."

When Maura reflected on her childhood it wasn't a perfect picture. She had felt alone, a burden at times; she'd felt as if her adopted parents didn't always know what to do with her or how to relate to her. But, then she had been reaped, and Constance and Harrison Isles had been brought into the Justice Building to say their goodbyes.

She couldn't recall ever having seen them cry, but tears streamed down both of their faces. Darling, her mother's voice cracked as she sobbed through the words. She threw her arms around her mother as two sets of arms laden with fierce desperation enveloped her. I love you, Constance whispered. I should have told you that more. We, her father corrected, we should have told you that more.

Sitting face to face with biology, suddenly Maura felt intensely loyal to them. "I meant it, when I said thank you for what you did in the Capitol. But…"

Doyle leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, "…but you don't need me to be your father. Is that it?" Maura nodded. "I know. But, I was…once. Stolen moments late at night after you were born. She would sneak away to meet me so that I could hold you. I was your father then. And then she died."

"In the fire…"

He nodded. "She was behind on her quotas, pulling extra hours after shut down to try and catch up. I stopped by that night to bring her some food and something to drink. A few hours later the fire calls came in. By the time I got there…" He steeled his jaw and fought the urge to cry. "You were with her neighbors. The last time I held you, was to take you from them and hand you to Constance when I made the notification."

"That wasn't the last time," Maura whispered, remembering the night she had shielded Jane from Crowe's whip.

"The last time I held you as your father." Doyle's gaze fell to the window and the rapidly passing scenery. "We'll be home in a couple of hours."

"What will you do?" Maura asked.

"I haven't thought about it." It was a lie. It was practically all he had thought about. Everything that ever was Patrick Doyle had been stripped away. "I'll survive; I always do."

Survive. "No," Maura countered. "Now, you live."


Jane watched Maura obsess over her appearance. Smoothing her hands over the clothes Portia had left for her, checking her makeup once more in the mirror. She had practically styled each individual hair on her head. Jane liked the interview pants Cinna had made but paired them with the blouse and leather jacket Maura had given her before the Reaping. "You look beautiful," Jane wrapped her arms around the fidgeting woman and held her still.

"I don't want…him…" the word came out between gritted teeth, "to be able to see on the broadcast that I've been crying for almost three days."

"You look beautiful," Jane repeated as she kissed her neck. "No one will be able to tell."

"Is everything…arranged?"

Jane nodded, "Everything will be focused on us. Martell will take Doyle, Tommy, and Lucius off the back of the train. He says he already has transport arranged. Tommy will be taken to my Ma's. Doyle and Lucius, somewhere safe for a few days or however long until all of the excitement dies down."

Maura turned in Jane's arms and slipped her hands under her blouse to knead at the skin of her back. "I'm scared."

"Me too," Jane closed her eyes and ran her fingers through Maura's hair for comfort.

"What are you most afraid of?"

Jane pulled back and failed to mask an impish smile, "Not of what you'd expect."

Maura cocked her head and arched an eyebrow with question.

"What if…" Jane took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, "…what if your parents don't like me?"

Maura laughed and brought her hands to Jane's face, her fingers caressing softly up and down her cheeks. "Seriously? That's what you're afraid of?"

Jane nodded, "I'm done being scared of him. I won't let him terrify me anymore. I have you and we have our future, and that's the only thing that matters to me now."

Our future. Maura repeated the words in her mind. The words gave her hope and strength. All her life she had felt powerless. The Games were designed to break them, and plenty of times since they had ended, as she lay mired in the never ceasing tears that wracked her, she had felt broken. But, then she looked at Jane, felt her touch, and the fear dissipated and the pain lessened. She wasn't weak; in spite of the Games she knew that now. And more and more she was coming to understand that she wasn't broken. Damaged, maybe, but not broken. "They'll love you. They'll love you, because I love you."


Grass and trees waned in the final miles leading into District 8. Brown, yellow, and green melted into the familiar grey. The outskirts of the district were dotted with the brick and concrete ruins of where civilization had existed before the Dark Days. Jane and Maura watched it as it passed; yet, it wasn't depressing. The Capitol had been bright and vibrant, full of color and technology, but it had been miserable. District 8 wasn't pretty by the same standards, but it was home. It was where they had been born, where they had grown up, where they had met each other, and where they had spent years being hopelessly and secretly in love. Their families were there. Every good memory was there, except the few they shared from their times alone in the Capitol.

The train slowed as it crept along the district's fence, slowing further when it passed the outpost that led to the only station, and finally came to a halt as they pulled up to one of the platforms. Only the families, and of course the Capitol camera crews that had been flown in ahead of them were allowed on the platform, but the raucous cheers of the crowd beyond the station could be easily heard.

Maura squeezed Jane's hand and smiled as Jane squeezed hard in return. Korsak stepped in front of them and adjusted his tie, "How do I look?"

Jane chuckled and put her hand on his shoulder, "You look good, old man," she said with a wink.

He smiled, "You know the drill. The cameras will be everywhere, trying to get all the shots for the homecoming broadcast that will air across Panem tonight. Make sure you say a few words directly to the cameras as we leave the platform. Peacekeepers will escort you to the Victor's Village and there, Mayor Pike, will present Maura with the keys to her house. I suggest you go in and wait there for the camera crews to pack up. When they're gone, I'll come get you and we'll go to your Ma's."

They both nodded.

"It's time! It's time!" Effie squealed with delight as she clapped her hands.

"Places, places, everyone," Jane mocked quietly as Maura pinched her side and shushed her.

Any shred of joking levity that had existed in those few moments rapidly disappeared as they stepped off the train.

Angela was standing as close as the Peacekeepers would allow, wringing her hands in anticipation, tears already streaming down her face as she waited. Jane pulled her hand free from Maura's and in two long strides was in her mother's arms. "Ma…" she croaked, her body trembling uncontrollably as she cried.

"My baby…my baby," Angela muttered over and over through her tears as her hands clawed and clutched at Jane's hair and gripped desperately at her back. "Never again, never again…"

Maura stepped onto the platform, covering her mouth as she stood, overcome at the sight of her parents. Constance reached for her, her hands shaking as she lightly grasped Maura's wrists and pulled her hands away. She ran her thumbs through her daughter's tears and kissed her forehead as she pulled the frozen woman into her arms. "My darling, oh my darling." Maura exhaled, closing her eyes as she let her arms wrap around her mother in turn. She felt her father's hand on her back and his lips as he kissed the top of her head. "I love you," Constance said, pushing Maura back just enough so that she could look her in the eye as she said it. "I love you, and I'll never let another day pass without saying it."

"I love you too," Maura choked out. She took a deep breath, feeling Jane's presence behind them she looked over her shoulder. Taking Constance by the hand she turned, "Mother, this is Jane."

Though they were completely surrounded by the crushing press of cameras, none of the intrusion seemed to register. Jane stood, holding Angela's hand as Maura faced her, holding her mother's hand. Constance reached up and cupped Jane's face for a moment, "I can never repay you for what you have done." She reached for her ring finger and pulled the band Harrison had given her forty years ago from the trembling digit and slid it onto Jane's finger. "Perfect fit," she whispered.

Maura looked at Angela and was immediately pulled into an enveloping hug. "Thank you," Angela whispered as she held her tightly.

"I didn't…" she began to protest.

Angela shook her head and squeezed tighter, "You gave me my daughter back," she whispered. "She was dead…for seventeen years…and you brought her back to life. And now…" she smiled as she reached one arm out to Jane and ushered her into the embrace, "Now I have two daughters."


She hadn't expected it to be furnished. Maura stood in the foyer of her victor's house, one arm looped lazily around Jane's waist, her head resting on a tall shoulder as she glanced around what she could see of the bottom floor.

"They're all the same," Jane stated, guessing the question that hung on the tip of Maura's tongue.

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

Jane chuckled under her breath, "You're supposed to live in it."

She knew that wasn't an option. Maura no more wanted to live in the physical reminder of the Games than Jane had for the past seventeen years. "No," she stated simply.

"It is a lot of space though," Jane remarked. "A lot more space than one back room in your apartment provides. And Lucius…"

Her eyes widened and Maura looked around the space with a different perspective, "A clinic!"

The front door creaked open, all of the houses had been built at the same time and only three, aside from some basic yearly maintenance, had ever been opened. Korsak poked his head in first and then stepped all the way inside. "They're all gone. The cameras, Effie, back on the train and back to the Capitol."

Jane eased out of Maura's embrace and moved towards her friend and mentor, "For now," she reminded him solemnly.

"For now," he nodded in agreement. "We'll worry about the Victory Tour later. I think there's someone waiting in your Ma's house that needs an introduction."

Hand in hand and with Korsak leading the way they walked two houses down to Angela's. Jane paused in the doorway. Since Frankie had died she had been inside only once: the day she looted her mother's fridge in order to take food to Maura.

"It's just a house we visit…because…our family is here," Maura said softly. Jane took a breath, held it, and then let it go as she nodded, walking through the door as Korsak opened it.

Savory smells met them as they entered, Angela and Constance, clad in matching aprons turned around in the kitchen to greet them. "See," Maura said reassuringly.

"Our family," Jane smiled in reply. She looked at Korsak with the silent question. Where?

"In Frankie's room," he whispered. Tommy was taken before her first Games had even started, he'd never had a room in this house and Frankie's room had been closed and remained so for fourteen years.

"Ma," Jane's voice quaked and suddenly she felt so overwhelmed that she wasn't sure she could go on. Maura's hand settled on her back and rubbed lightly up and down. Angela stood in front of her, a look of confusion tinged with fear on her face as she took in her daughter's demeanor. "There's something else…" she reached for her mother's hand and lead her up the stairs and down the hallway to the last door.

Angela balked as they approached, trying to pull her hand out of Jane's grasp only to have her daughter tighten her grip. Maura stepped up beside her and slid her hand into Angela's free hand.

"It's a good thing, Ma," Jane forced a smile and gave her mother a little jerk. "Trust me." She opened the door and reluctantly Angela followed her in.

Tommy stood, tugging on his shirt to try and minimize the wrinkles and running a hand through his hair to smooth it out. His bottom lip quivered and his blue eyes welled up with tears. He wanted more than anything to call out to her, to tell her he loved her, to tell her how sorry he was, he did the only thing he could; he mouthed the word: Ma.

The room was starkly silent save for the ragged sound of Angela's erratic breathing. She pulled her hands free from Jane and Maura and covered her mouth to try and muffle the sobs. It took a few seconds for it all to register but when it did every emotion propelled her forward to the now man standing in front of her. But, it was Tommy that wrapped her in an embrace as he buried his face in her neck and joined her in crying.

"Tommy," Angela bawled as she held her son. "Is it…is it really you?"

"It is," Jane answered for him, sniffling as she stepped up next to them. "One of the doctors brought Tommy to me in the hospital," as they all stepped back to look at each other Jane reached out and clasped her brother by the shoulder. "He protected me, Ma. He saved me from Hoyt."

"Where have you been!? What did they do to you!? I have so many questions…" Angela began to talk faster and faster. "You have to tell me everything. I want to know everything. But, you're here now. You're home. For good, right?" She looked at Jane.

"It's ok," Jane whispered to him as she felt his body tense under her touch. "Ma," she said softly. "He can't…tell you." Angela's brow furrowed in confusion and she glanced back and forth between her daughter and her son. "They made him an Avox, Ma. He can't speak."

"An Av…" There were no Avoxes in the districts, but everyone knew what they were. She looked at her son; it was him, he'd grown, filled out, become a man in the past seventeen years. But, the look in his eyes, the shape of his face, it was Tommy; despite it all, he was still her baby boy. Her hands cupped his face and she smiled. "They didn't make you anything. You're Tommy Rizzoli. You're my son. You know what I've learned?" Angela reached for Jane and pulled her close, "We can get through anything. The Capitol has done its worst, and we're still here."

"They can't break us," Jane said, extending her hand to Maura and bringing her in with them.

"They can't make us who we're not," Maura wrapped her arms around Jane and nestled into her side.

Angela swiped her thumb over her son's lips, "They can only silence us if we let them."


It was almost shocking to realize that everything she owned fit in one large duffle bag and a small cardboard box. Her mother had packed her apartment the night of the Reaping, choosing to get it over with before the Games even started rather than having to face the possessions after she had died. Because, she was supposed to die. With her old broken down furniture and second hand dishes thrown out or given away, Jane walked away from the Victor's Village with one duffle bag of clothes over her shoulder and a cardboard box in her arms.

The streets were dark and familiarly silent. She'd walked them many times at late hours when sleep wouldn't come or did and plagued her with nightmares. It occurred to her there were probably celebratory fights at Cavanaugh's, their homecoming was the perfect excuse for a bare knuckled free for all and booze fest, since the formal celebration wouldn't be until they returned from the Victory Tour. Jane chuckled under her breath; she reckoned Martina J would be particularly lit tonight.

"What?" Maura asked as she linked her arm with Jane's.

"There will be fights at Cavanaugh's tonight," she replied as they finally arrived at the entrance to Maura's building.

"Oh," Maura said softly, the mention bringing back terrible memories of Jane, beaten, bloodied, and near death.

"But," Jane looked at her and smiled, "I don't go there anymore," she added as they ascended the steps in the building.

Maura's apartment was just as it had been left. Fitting dummies stood in varying states of dress, design sketches and orders still pinned to the walls rustled as a window was cracked to air out the stuffiness. The bed was made, each corner still perfectly crisp so many weeks later. "Our mothers are very different."

"Maybe she believed you would be coming home."

"Jane, no one but you believed I would be coming home," Maura sat on the sofa next to her and took her hand. "She's an avoider. Or…she was. Maybe things will be different now. In any event," Maura shrugged, "we didn't have to spend the night at your mother's."

Jane laughed and nodded.

"It's a little bizarre though," Maura scanned the room. "This place is just as it was. It really hasn't been that long, but I…I am so different. Oh!" Everything just as she had left it, it reminded her. She stood and walked into the kitchen and returned with two glasses and a small, unmarked bottle of brown liquor. "Korsak gave it to me before the Reaping. You and I were supposed to…"

Jane sniffed the liquid and then filled the two glasses, "We were supposed to get drunk after he was reaped. If they hadn't pulled your name and they had pulled mine…"

"He was going to volunteer in your place," Maura acknowledged.

Lifting her glass, Jane looked at Maura, "To Vince Korsak, friend and mentor." She paused and a wry smile crept across her face, "To Haymitch, the only man I've ever let call me sweetheart…"

"To Barry Frost," Maura finished.

Jane nodded, "To Frost," they clinked glasses and downed the liquid. Reaching for the cardboard box of things her mother had packed, Jane pulled out the old wooden cigar box that held the photo of her and Frankie. She smiled as she ran her finger across his face.

"He spoke to me…once," Maura said, resting her chin on Jane's shoulder.

"You never told me…" she leaned back against the sofa and brushed a strand of hair back behind Maura's ear.

"It was the first day of school after your Reaping. I think I had been in a haze all day. The worst was the empty chair at lunch where you always sat. I was walking home that afternoon and I never even heard the boys behind me; they ran by and knocked all of my books and papers out of my arms…"

She just stood there and watched as the breeze blew the papers down the sidewalk ahead, some floated into the road. It didn't seem to matter. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a boy in the street zigging and zagging and plucking the papers from the air and ground until he had caught them all and joined her on the sidewalk. Maura knelt and stacked her books and when she finally looked up, tears trickling down her face, Frankie Rizzoli stood in front of her and held the papers out.

He looked down at the top paper, an exam, before she took them, Wow, you're really good at math.

Thanks, she smiled back at him. I could have gotten them; you didn't have to…

My sister would have helped you, so I figured I should. Actually, she probably would have chased those guys down and punched them.

Your sister is Jane…I'm sorr…

And you're Maura, he cut her off before she could apologize. He was tired of people apologizing like he was never going to see her again. She was going to win. And she was going to come home. My sister thinks you're really pretty. With that, he was off, jogging back across the street and down the opposite sidewalk after his friends who had kept walking.

Jane pulled Maura forward and kissed her, the bourbon still fresh on their lips and tongue. "Why didn't you ever tell me that before?"

"He meant so much to you…it made me feel closer to him having a memory that was only mine," she glanced towards the photo on the table, "But, now, I wanted to share it with you."

The story made her want to share her happiness with her lost brother even more. "He would have been really happy for me," Jane said as she smiled, "He would have loved you."

Taking Jane's hand, Maura circled her thumb over the scar on her palm and then pulled her lover to her feet. Silently, she led them to the bedroom and gently pushed Jane to sit on the edge of the bed. She stepped back and shed her blouse and skirt, reaching for her bra but stopping as Jane stood and pulled her arms down.

"Let me," she whispered, as her hands gripped Maura firmly at the hips, lips finding purchase on an offered neck. Her hands roamed around the waistband of the undergarment and then to the small of Maura's back. Fingertips traced slowly up her spine and disposed of the bra in their path. Jane trailed her kisses upward, pausing to let shallow breaths tickle the expectant lips that parted in wait. Tenderly, she closed the divide and relished the sensation, her tongue sliding over smoothness to taste warmth, Maura dueling and claiming her mouth in turn. Her hand caressed up a smooth, though still too-thin side to cup Maura's breast, taking her time to feel the weight in her hand and circle a hardening nipple with her thumb. There was nothing to train for, no schedule to keep to, nobody outside the door waiting to hurry them along. "Now, we live."

Maura nodded, popping the last button on Jane's blouse and pushing it off her shoulders, her bra following soon after. Jane shimmied her pants and underwear over her hips and stepped out of them before guiding Maura back to the bed and pushing her to lie down. She hooked her fingers inside the last remaining garment and slowly slid the panties down Maura's legs until they were free.

"Now, we live," Maura whispered as Jane started at her neck, kissing down to lave each nipple with her tongue, sucking softly until Maura moaned and arched her back in response. She moved lower still, nails scratching where her lips had been, kissing down Maura's stomach and through soft curls as legs opened wide in front of her.

With her eyes closed, Maura writhed for a moment against the ministrations of Jane's tongue and suckling kisses where she ached the most. Hands twined in a mess of dark hair, Maura pulled herself up and waited for her lover to meet her eyes. "Come up here," she commanded softly.

They crawled to the center of the bed and Maura cupped Jane's face as she hovered over her. "I thought…the night before the Games would be the last time. And every day after, all I wanted was to have you one more time. I waited so long for you."

Jane brushed a tear from Maura's cheek and then one from her own, "We. We waited so long for each other." She kissed her, smothering gasps and moans with her lips as her fingers claimed her lover. Slowly, and deeply she thrust, curling her fingers as she pulled almost out and then stroking forward again. When she felt Maura draw close and tighten around her she slowed even further, stilling for a few moments, bringing her back from the edge only to start again.

Maura opened her eyes, a light sweat collecting on her brow and across her chest. Jane tasted the salty perspiration as she kissed her and stroked Maura's flushed cheek with the back of her hand. "Please, faster," Maura pled.

Obligingly, Jane quickened her pace, rolling her hips to leverage her thrusts as hard and deep as possible. As the body beneath her arched and shook with release, she stilled inside, focusing her thumb in quick, tight circles on Maura's clit to extend her release.

Purposefully, Maura's body eased back to the bed, relaxing as the last aftershocks coursed through her. She looked up at Jane and pushed her hair back from her face and over one shoulder. Her finger traced the arch of one eyebrow, down a prominent cheekbone, across the heated skin of her cheek and over the curved shell of her ear. Her thumb pressed into the swollen vein that ran down the side of Jane's neck and felt the furious pulse of blood as it raced through her. Maura smiled, raising both hands to caress across the slope of strong shoulders, shoulders that had carried her so many miles and refused to leave her behind. The scar on her chest was gone but the others were still there, all the reminders of the only way Jane knew how to visit her for too many years.

"I should have let them erase them," Jane murmured as she watched Maura's finger slide over every mark.

"No," Maura shook her head, "they're memories."

"Painful ones."

Maura smiled, "They're our courtship. Unconventional, yes, but I know the story behind every one. I love you, every part of you, even these scars just as you love me and mine."

Her hands moved lower, one trailing over Jane's hip to her back as the other disappeared between her legs. Maura let her fingers drag slowly through Jane's wetness and paused, waiting for permission just as she had before. They had broken through this barrier the night before the Games, but then Hoyt had brought the horrible memories back.

"I'm yours," Jane whispered, leaning down for mutual reassurance through a kiss. "All of me. Yours and only yours."

Maura entered her, taking Jane's right hand in her left and lacing their fingers together. Jane rolled and bucked in rhythm with her strokes, closing her eyes and gasping softly for air as deft fingers brought her to a furiously quick orgasm, pulling her hard over the edge as she cried out and clasped Maura's hand to her heart. The strokes slowed and then ceased and Maura eased free to run her hand over Jane's still trembling thigh and up to where Jane held her hand. She ran her thumb over the ring her mother had slid onto Jane's finger and she felt Jane twist the ring she had worn since the arena in turn.

"Marry me," Jane said. "For real. Tomorrow. At the Justice Building with our family and friends around us. Marry me. Let our mothers bind our hands. Be my wife."

With a shaky breath, Maura nodded.


Epilogue:

Jane pulled on the nicest pair of jeans she had. They were old, but clean and free of holes. They were about as close to being going out…or getting married in clothes as she was likely to find in that one duffle bag that held every garment she owned. She fully expected her mother to scowl and act positively horrified. Glancing around the room she spied a silk camisole on one of Maura's fitting dummies, it looked about her size so she slipped it on and found that it fit quite nicely. The oxblood leather jacket and her best pair of boots completed the ensemble. She raked her hair with her fingers one more time and knocked on the bedroom door.

Maura stepped out still clad in her towel and gave her soon to be wife the once over. Jane closed her eyes and grimaced, waiting for the disapproval.

"I don't…really have a suit…or a dress. Or…you know…anything nicer," she tried to explain.

Maura pulled one side of the jacket back and eyed the camisole with a smile. "You look very handsome. You look like you. You looked stunning in everything Cinna put you in. But, I like it most when you look like you."

She closed the door and dropped the towel, padding across the small room to stand in front of the closet door. "It doesn't matter," she told herself, but deep down she wished she were more prepared. The design had lingered in her mind since childhood, passing years and maturity had made a few alterations but the silhouette remained relatively static. She had sketched it once, late one afternoon when business was slow and her hands were idle. That night Jane had come with a dislocated jaw and two lacerations that needed stitching courtesy of her latest victory at Cavanaugh's. She tore up the sketch and burned it afterwards.

Jane paced noisily outside the door, "Maura?"

"I'm trying to find something to wear," she called back. She wasn't really; she was standing in front of her closed closet hoping for a miracle.

"You know I don't care what you wear!" Jane called through the door. "I'd marry you in that towel if it was the only thing you had to keep from going naked. Actually…"

"Jane!" Maura gasped.

"Maura," her voice was softer this time. "I know you probably have some absolutely gorgeous design that you've wanted for this moment all your life. But, you just said you like it most when I look like me. Well, I like it most when you're…you're just you, when we're us." Jane balled up her fists in frustration and whispered to herself, "I'm not even making sense." She took a deep breath. "Maura, in thirty years I'm not going to remember what you were wearing. I'm going to remember the look in your eyes and the words you say when we make our vows."

"Jane," Maura shot an exasperated look towards the closed door. "You remember exactly what I was wearing thirty years ago when you saw me for the very first time."

"Dammit," Jane growled, "I just had to tell you that story, didn't I?"

Maura chuckled and with resignation flung open the closet door, "Oh!" she gasped out loud.

"Good Oh? Bad Oh?" Jane questioned.

A garment bag she didn't recognize hung on the closet bar facing out, a note with her name on it pinned to the front. Suddenly, she remembered the last thing Cinna had whispered in her ear as they said their goodbyes: When you get home, there will be something waiting for you.

She pulled the note from the bag and opened it. She likes you in blue. ~ Cinna.

Behind the zipper and beneath the bag hung a silk dress in vibrant royal blue. Maura stepped into it and slowly zipped it up, watching in the mirror as the dress came together and conformed to her curves before falling free past her hips in flowing waves that dropped just below her knees. Donning a pair of heels she opened the door.

Jane's jaw dropped and her eyes dragged from head to toe and back up again, "I lied. In thirty years, I'll definitely remember what you were wearing."


Jane had entered the Justice Building exactly two times her entire life. Both times following the Reaping as she was shuttled off to what should have been certain death. Many times in the past seventeen years she had walked by and imagined the building in ruins. Now, she stood in front of it, with her arm around Maura and prepared to walk into it for the first time of her volition.

It was strange, she mused, not an item ever moved; it even smelled the same as it had both of the times she'd been forced through its doors: like freshly cleaned marble mixed with dusty antiques.

Everyone was waiting for them, their parents, Tommy, Korsak, even Doyle. It wasn't a big wedding party, but it was everyone that mattered. Only three were missing. Jane brought her hand to her jacket pocket and squeezed the picture of Frankie that was nestled within it. A long time ago people believed in an afterlife, something called heaven where people lived for eternity when they died. She wasn't sure if it existed or not, if it did she hoped Frankie and Hope were watching. And her father…he was out there somewhere. Maybe one day she would see him again and introduce him to Maura.

The judge led them into one of the ceremony rooms. It was just like all of the other rooms, the ones they were taken to after the Reaping, only without tables and chairs to make for more space. The civil service in District 8 was nothing epic; the judge recited his parts from memory and cued them to respond when required. The only thing that varied from ceremony to ceremony was the binding and the couples' promises.

Jane held Maura's hands and stared unwaveringly into her eyes as the judge arrived at his last part, "Do you, Jane Rizzoli take Maura Isles to be your wife? A vow you make of your own free will; a commitment to honor and love her, to hold steadfastly from this day forward?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as she smiled, "For every second of every day, I do."

"Do you, Maura Isles take Jane Rizzoli to be your wife? A vow you make of your own free will; a commitment to honor and love her, to hold steadfastly from this day forward?"

Maura took a shallow and labored breath, "Forever, I do."

The judge smiled, "In District 8 it is our custom to bind the hands of those who make this solemn vow."

Angela and Constance stepped forward as Jane laced her right hand with Maura's left. Their mothers each held a strip of cloth: Angela, a piece of lace yellowed with age; Jane had seen it in her mother's wedding photo, in her grandmother's, and in her great-grandmother's. Constance held a strip of white silk, hand embroidered, little by little since not long after Maura had been placed in her arms.

Each started just below their own daughter's elbow, securing the strips of cloth and then passing the ends back and forth between them with seamless ease. Jane and Maura watched in awe, not knowing that the two women had practiced all morning with Tommy and Korsak as the brides.

Angela looked into Jane's eyes, "You have made a vow before the law and those who love you…"

Constance, tears streaming down her face, looked at Maura, "You are bound, one heart, one soul. Turn to each other and make your promises."

Jane didn't try to hide how her hand trembled as she brought it to Maura's face, "Maura, I promise that through our darkest days I will be your truth, absolute and unwavering. When you have doubt, I will be your strength, and when you think you are lost I will help you find the way. And when you smile and when you laugh, when there is happiness and when there is joy, I will be the partner always by your side, sharing everything with you."

"Jane," Maura's voice cracked as she tried to speak and tears that paralyzed her chest and settled in her throat threatened to render her mute. She raised her hand and covered Jane's hand that still rested on her cheek. "I promise, that my heart beats only for you. Each breath you take, I breathe with you. There is no storm; there is no trial that will make me waver. You are the one and only love of my life and not a day will pass that that love doesn't grow stronger. And if ever you find yourself on the brink of giving up, know that my love will hold you up."

Their lips met in the midst of a chord of subtle sobbing, their own and that of those around them.

The judge waited until their lips reluctantly parted, "You are bound and promised. Jane Rizzoli and Maura Isles, I pronounce you married."

Jane pulled Maura into her, their cheeks pressing softly together as she ran her hand comfortingly through sandy brown hair. "I love you," she whispered. "I always have."

"I love you too," Maura whispered in return. "I always will."


A very special thanks: I'm not sure there are enough words of thanks I can give to the two ladies that so graciously agreed to beta this story: Angela_V from twitter and Reallybigpineapple here on FFN aka ClillaryHinton1 from twitter. I started this story completely on a dare and asked for some beta help to keep me on track as I blended the two universes together. I'm not sure either of them expected a 28 chapter commitment. Most importantly, I could not have asked for two more hilarious betas, who kept me in constant stitches over their often random, and usually sexually depraved shipper comments. Shout out to #Haysak, #Dotell, #Conela, and ghost #Frostie. When so ever the sequel may get taken up, I hope you ladies are up for round two!