Jane soon found that loving Maura was easy. She'd started the last week by writing an 'M' on her hand, to serve as a reminder to pay attention to how her actions might affect Maura, and to put Maura first. It helped in little ways: Jane was more cognizant of cleaning up after herself and making the bed in the morning. But after a couple of days she found that the more important things came naturally. Showing physical affection, laughing together, saying how happy she was, Jane didn't even have to try to do those things. On the contrary, it was as if she'd been subconsciously holding back, keeping herself from doing or saying something that would have been inappropriate between friends. And now that she'd let go, the floodgates opened. She stood in the bathroom doorway and watched Maura brushing her teeth before bed. She told Maura how beautiful she was at all hours of the day. She hugged and kissed Maura whenever she felt the urge, not only when Maura needed comfort. Loving Maura like this didn't take any reminders or effort. It felt like something Jane was born to do.

Jane also realized she'd been using deflection to avoid admitting her feelings for Maura. Not recently, but before… before the baby, before they became... whatever they were now. When they were just friends. Back then, especially when they were alone together, if Maura did something cute, Jane would come up with some snotty remark to prove to herself that she didn't take Maura's feelings too seriously. But when she saw Maura's reaction, the way she would try to hide the sting, Jane would always feel a pang of guilt, though she didn't know why. Or at least, she didn't know at the time. Now she knew, and now instead of deflecting her feelings, Jane felt free to show them. Instead of calling Maura a know-it-all when she said something smart, Jane would look to Frost and nod her head at Maura, saying proudly, "That's my genius." At that type of remark, Maura would grin, her eyes sparkling like she'd just earned a gold star in kindergarten.

It was liberating. Jane was starting to feel good about her ability to make Maura happy, and confident about meeting her goal of being ready for sex after the baby was born and her body was back to normal. She just needed to know when that would be.

"How long will it take to lose the baby weight?" Jane leaned back on the heels of her hands, the paper of the exam room table crinkling under the pressure.

Dr. Filer looked up from her clipboard, surprised at the interruption. Maura had been doing most of the talking during their appointment, asking questions about labor procedures and what to expect. "You'll lose about half of it during and immediately after delivery. Then it'll take about six weeks for your uterus shrink back to its normal size, and to lose a few more pounds in water weight, before you'll feel like exercising again. It's up to you to lose the rest through diet and exercise."

Jane's eyebrows raised at the proposed timeline. "Six weeks? Before I can even start working out again?" She looked to Maura, but of course Maura had no idea why this timeline was so important. She just gave a close-lipped smile.

"Delivery is still about six weeks away, so try not to think about it now. You're at a healthy weight and will gain a bit more in these last few weeks. A lot will happen between now and when you need to start worrying about getting back into shape." The doctor nodded and smiled, then looked back at the clipboard.

Twelve weeks. Three months. Try not to think about it. Jane tried not to think about six more weeks of getting bigger, then six more weeks of feeling like a lump with no interest in moving off the couch. Three months. Three more months of not feeling herself. Of disappointing Maura. And that was on top of the past three years. At least this time she'd have a good excuse for waiting. Maura couldn't expect anything if she were physically incapable. Part of Jane was relieved that she'd have longer than expected to pull her shit together and make it work. But another part of her was mad at herself for waiting this long already. Maybe she would never really feel comfortable, and she'd only frustrated both of them by waiting until she was too big to really do anything. Maybe she'd built up expectations by waiting and the fallout would be worse than if she'd just sucked it up and done it right away.

"Ok, this looks good!" Dr. Filer looked up from their birth plan on her clipboard. "You want to wait as long as possible before trying pain relief, and then you'd like a low-dose epidural," she confirmed.

Blinking herself out of her thoughts and back into the reality of the exam room, Jane nodded, "Yeah," then looked to Maura, who smiled. "I want to be able to move around as much as possible." Something good had actually come out of that prenatal yoga class: Jane found some positions that eased the pressure on her lower back and, according to the instructor, would help move the baby into position for delivery. But she'd need to be able to feel her legs for that, so a walking epidural was a good compromise.

"Great. Now, just so you're prepared, you may not be able to really walk around. Brigham and Women's has a no-walking policy with all epidurals, but at MGH we allow it as long as you're accompanied by a nurse or aide. We use a catheter in your back to administer the medication from an IV pole, so you'll be able to get out of bed if you want to, or to use the bathroom. But there's a good chance you just won't feel up to it."

"Yeah, that's ok." Won't feel up to it. Jane looked down at her hands.

Dr. Filer continued down the list. "And we're going to avoid induction until 42 weeks. Hopefully the baby will want to come out on her own before then."

Jane sighed. Three and a half months. "Hopefully." She picked at a hangnail.

"What about natural methods of induction?" Maura questioned. "Jane's mother said she induced labor using a glass of wine and a hot bath. Is that effective? Is it safe? I read an article in The Journal of Epidemiology and Community Health that concluded that children whose mothers drank a moderate amount of alcohol during pregnancy did not exhibit cognitive or behavioral disorders in a longitudinal study, but they had only followed the children up to five years of age."

Dr. Filer made a note while Maura was speaking. "Yes, I've read that study. Fetal alcohol syndrome is a risk of heavy drinking during pregnancy. Light drinking, one to two drinks a week, and never to the point of inebriation, hasn't been shown to be either safe or unsafe. One glass of wine at the end of your pregnancy isn't likely to harm your baby, and if it helps you relax going into labor, then it's probably a good thing."

Maura was taking notes and nodding while Dr. Filer continued, "You'll hear all sorts of stories of ways to induce labor naturally. Nipple stimulation, intercourse, spicy foods, castor oil, massage, acupuncture…. Most of them, if they do work, probably do so by relaxation and inducing the release of oxytocin. But keep in mind that none are guarantees. My experience is that the baby will come when she's ready. If we run into trouble and she's getting too big to deliver, we can schedule a chemical induction as a last resort."

Maura nodded and repeated, "Last resort. At 42 weeks?"

"That's right."

"You and Tommy were early, and Frankie was only a week late," Maura said to Jane, "so there's little chance that we'll need to induce." She smiled, and Jane lifted one side of her mouth, trying to think positively.

Going back to the birth plan, Dr. Filer said, "And you'd like to avoid an episiotomy, but not to the point of tearing."

Jane nodded and swallowed, still uncomfortable thinking about all the attention her private parts would be getting.

"Jane," Maura interjected, "Your mother had an episiotomy with you without complications, but recent studies say that tearing may pose a lesser risk of infection and would heal more quickly than an episiotomy."

"Maur." Jane squeezed her eyes shut. "You talked to Ma about this?"

"She was very forthcoming."

She sighed. "Ok. Ok, let's nix it altogether. Heal faster."

Dr. Filer made the note. "You can prevent tearing by massaging some vitamin E oil into the perineum daily. It's best to start as soon as possible, to stretch out the epithelium." The doctor reached for a pamphlet. "This'll tell you how to do it, and you may need help," she glanced at Maura, "especially as you get closer to delivery."

Jane took the pamphlet and opened it up, intending to browse. Inside was a sketch that made her cringe. She closed it and looked up at Maura, who bit her lower lip nervously. Jane mirrored her. Maura must think I'm a freak. A prude.

Dr. Filer was talking again. "Then once the baby is born, Maura will cut the cord, waiting a few minutes after delivery to allow blood to flow from the placenta," Maura turned to the doctor and they nodded in agreement, "and as long as everyone is doing well, the baby will stay with you for bonding while we do the Apgar assessment."

Jane finally relaxed a little, imagining Echo lying on her chest, tiny hands and feet.

"And if there are any issues to address," Dr. Filer continued, "Maura will stay with the baby."

"Yeah," Jane perked up. "The whole time. Nobody can turn her away, just because she's not— because we're not legally related. Right? As long as her name is on the birth plan?"

"Right. We'll file a copy with the hospital, I'll keep one in my files, and you should each keep a copy in your purses, a copy in your hospital bag, a copy at home, and give one to any other relatives who would be able to come down here in case all those other copies get lost."

"We should give one to Ma," Jane confirmed with Maura, who nodded enthusiastically. Jane shouldn't have been surprised at how much Maura seemed to be learning from Angela. They'd always been close, ever since Angela moved into the guest house. And now it seemed like they were always talking about something baby-related. Jane should have guessed that her lady parts would be on the agenda as well. And no matter how uncomfortable the idea made Jane, it really seemed to help Maura feel more confident about Echo's delivery. Angela was already a good gramma, Jane admitted to herself, helping Echo's moms prepare. "Maybe we should put her on the list, too," she found herself suggesting. "In case we need her during delivery?" As exasperating as it might be for Jane to have her mother in the delivery room, putting up with her might be something big she could do for Maura, in lieu of something more intimate.

But Maura responded like a deer caught in headlights. "Your mother?" Her head jerked to the side and her mouth gaped open. "Uh, of course. If you think you'll need her." She nodded and swallowed. "She should be there." Maura folded her hands and licked her lips, then nodded her agreement to Dr. Filer.

Shit. She totally read that wrong. "Or— You know what?" Jane held out her hand to still the doctor's scribbles, backpedaling. "Never mind. We don't need her." Jane looked to Maura, looking for some sign that she had said the right thing. "Just us."

Maura bit her lip again.


Maura woke up cold, Jane's side of the bed empty. Jane had been having trouble sleeping lately. She often shifted around in bed at night, trying to get comfortable, only to wake up needing to empty her bladder, and start the whole routine of tossing and turning all over again. Maura wished there was some way she could help, but as much as she researched, there didn't seem to be any relief for the aches of late-stage pregnancy.

The best thing Maura had found to help Jane fall asleep was a light massage. Jane would lie on her side, a body pillow supporting her belly, and Maura would lie behind her, using one hand to rub lazy circles into her muscles. She'd intersperse kisses where she felt they were appropriate. She'd know Jane had fallen asleep when her breathing evened out. Then she would pull Jane's tank top down and nuzzle her nose into Jane's back, pressing the rest of her body against the warmth.

Maura bent her legs and pulled the blanket up over her head, trying to warm up. She pressed her thighs together and imagined Jane there with her. What she would do if Jane were receptive. Caress curves. Kiss skin. Taste warmth. Or what Jane might do to Maura, someday. The way she'd sat atop Maura's hips a few days earlier, so self-assured. Almost covetous of what was beneath her. Moments like that were what kept Maura sane. Jane was terrible at hiding her feelings, she always had been, even on the rare occasions that she tried. Those snippets of desire Jane exhibited, those were what kept Maura from doubting, and they were the moments she relished. She committed them to memory and relived them when her worries threatened to get the best of her.

Maura had been doing so well lately. She felt like things had finally become comfortable with Jane. She knew where Jane's boundaries were (anything that would be covered by a bikini was restricted territory), and she didn't feel the need to push them. She understood that Jane was working through something and as much as Maura wanted to help, she knew better than to pressure Jane to talk about it. And Jane had seemed to relax recently, too. She was more affectionate in simple ways that meant a lot. Maura was confident that at some point Jane would feel comfortable enough to let Maura all the way in, to let Maura love her completely.

It was only for a moment during their doctor's appointment that Maura felt that insecurity creep back in. Jane meant well, she was sure, but hearing Jane's own doubts about Maura's abilities as a birth coach… It wasn't so hard to believe that Jane might want her mother there. And it was probably a good idea to have an experienced mother in the room. In case Maura panicked when Jane needed her most. In case, when they put the baby in her arms, she froze. In case she had no nurturing instincts at all.

And as relieved as Maura was that Jane changed her mind about wanting Angela there, that only put more pressure on Maura to be the perfect birth coach and co-parent Jane had envisioned for Echo. Maura found herself wondering how much of that was learned and how much was instinctual. If it was a matter of experience and familiarity, or if it could be an ability she didn't realize she had until she was faced with the reality of the situation. If it was a simple matter of effort and practice, and if as long as she cared enough to want to be a good mother, at least she wouldn't be a bad one. If there was any hope for her as a mother at all.

Jane had been gone too long. Maura listened for the sounds of pacing or a midnight snack. She should go find Jane, find out what was keeping her up, do whatever she could to help. All she heard was a slow, dull, thwap-a-dap-a-dap-a-dap-a-dap. Thwap-a-dap-a-dap-a-dap-a-dap.

Maura pulled a robe around herself, tucked her feet into slippers, and went in search of the noise. She found Jane in her workout room. She was facing away from the doorway and didn't see or hear Maura's approach. She was the perfect juxtaposition of grit and tenderness: Jane's right arm cradled Echo while her left fist batted the speed bag, hitting it once, then waiting for it to stop before hitting it again. Jane was staring past the bag into space, obviously troubled by something.

Maura watched silently, allowing the image to be seared into her memory. The flexion of Jane's tricep and anterior deltoid as she struck the bag, then the bulge of her bicep as her fist retracted. The way her head tilted to the side, stretching her trapezius. The gentle curve of her right shoulder and elbow around her middle. That the lordotic curve of her lumbar vertebra was more pronounced than months ago, and her gluteals had developed to carry the extra weight.

Maura had purchased a new camera a few weeks earlier, a professional-quality dSLR, in preparation for Echo's first everything. She chose a lens with normal zoom but a large aperture, which she had read would provide a wide focal range and fast exposures in low light. So she could capture all ten toes when they wiggled, without harming the baby's eyes with a flash. If Jane allowed it tonight, she could also try to capture the gentle power displayed in Jane's exercise.

Maura rapped her knuckles lightly on the open door, unintentionally startling Jane, who immediately stopped and turned. "Sorry, I—" Her eyes traced the edge of the mat. "I missed you."

Jane's hands balled into fists, her fingernails digging into palms. "Sorry." She shook her head. "Couldn't sleep."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Nah. We can go back to bed." She made a move to the door.

Maura held her hand out to stop her. "No, I didn't mean to— You don't have to stop, I—"

Jane dipped her chin to catch Maura's eye. "Tell me."

Maura's mouth gaped open before she found the words, "I wanted to take your picture."

Jane's eyelashes dropped as she laughed silently. "Like this?" She held her taped hands out, indicating the rumpled tank top and basketball shorts she'd worn to bed. Her curls were matted and her ankles were swollen. She was hardly in shape for a photo shoot.

"Yes." Maura shrugged.

"Why?"

Maura's eyes scanned Jane's body and she sighed. "You're breathtaking."

Jane just laughed, doubtful.

"Please?"

The word 'no' didn't even cross Jane's mind. She nodded, and as Maura hurried down the hall to retrieve the camera, she called after her, "You're not going to use these photos for blackmail or anything, are you?"

Amid the noises of drawers opening and bags rustling came, "No, of course not!"

Jane smirked to herself. Literal Maura. "And don't show the guys at work, either, ok?"

Maura walked back in with the camera. "I can't control what websites they visit. If they stumble across our pregnancy blog, they'll be able to—"

"Our— Maura, you didn't—" Jane's eyes narrowed as she realized, "You're joking, right?"

Maura grinned, proud of herself.

Jane took a deep breath of relief and let it out while shaking her head and smiling. "You. Are getting too good at that."

Maura grinned wider.

Jane pulled Maura's chin toward her and kissed the grin.

Smiling out of it, Jane said, "Ok, enough joking around, where do you want me, Ansel Adams?" She stood up straight, turned her profile to Maura, put one arm around Echo, used the other to pull her breasts together, tossed her head back, and made a duck face.

Maura gave her that look of feigned annoyance, the one she used to hide her amusement at Jane's bad jokes, then fiddled with the camera settings. "Ansel Adams photographed landscapes, not portraits. Annie Leibovitz would be a more apt comparison. She took that Vanity Fair photo you're imitating."

"Ok then, Annie. What are we doing?"

"Just go back to what you were doing with that punching bag. Pretend I'm not here."

"It's a speed bag."

"Then go punch the speed bag. Try to ignore me."

Jane did as she was told, starting out with a smirk at how awful the photos were sure to turn out. But as she focused on the rhythm of the speed bag, she became more entranced, more relaxed, and more serious. She managed to forget that Maura was there, the clicking of the camera drowned out by the rattle of the speed bag. Thwap-a-dap-a-dap, thwap-a-dap-a-dap, thwap-a-dap-a-dap. After a few minutes she intensified the routine, hitting the bag faster, but still using just her left fist, her right holding tight around her belly. Thwap-a-dap, thwap-a-dap, thwap-a-dap.

When Maura had exhausted all possible angles and was sure she'd gotten something she could use to remember the scene, she set the camera to auto-shoot photos every second, and set it on a shelf, pointed at Jane. Slowly, and within Jane's line of sight, she approached. She didn't mean to start anything, she just wanted to be part of the photo. Part of the family.

Jane's fist opened and stopped the bag's movement, keeping it from swinging too close to Maura's head. She looked into Maura's eyes and saw hope. Love. Acceptance. She could do this. It would be ok. Good, even.

Jane's right hand pulled Maura toward her, and her left moved from the bag to Maura's cheek. Maura leaned into it instinctively, then shifted her head to Jane's shoulder as Jane's arms enveloped her. Maura closed her eyes and threaded her hands as far around to Jane's back as they would reach, dipping under her shirt.

It would be ok. Jane breathed in and out. It would be good. She kissed Maura's forehead and whispered into her hair, "I'm ready, Maur. Let's do it."

Maura pulled away from Jane's embrace, only enough to make eye contact and understand what she'd meant. "Are you sure?"

Jane nodded, not at all certain, but convincingly enough. "You have to tell me… what you want, though. Because I don't— I've never—"

Maura stood up on tiptoe to kiss her. "Don't worry," she smiled. "I'll be gentle."


And it was good. At least, it started out good. There was kissing and Jane sitting on the edge of the bed and Maura's hair and her lips and she smelled good and the satin of her pajamas getting closer and just when Jane was about to move, to do something besides just sit there and receive Maura's kisses,

"Don't you touch him!"

Jane recoiled in horror. "What?"

Maura was flustered, confused. "I said, do you want to touch me?" Her eyes searched Jane's face for an explanation, and she offered, "You don't have to, it's ok if you don't…"

Jane squeezed her eyes shut and tried shake the angry voice from her head. "I'm sorry, yes, of course I do." She reached out for Maura's waist and tried again, but when she closed her eyes, all she could see was that face, that look of anger and hatred and you shot my father. Soon her kisses turned to tears and her caresses became clingy. "I'm sorry, Maur. I'm so sorry."

Maura switched gears effortlessly, showing no signs of disappointment or frustration. "Shhh, sweetheart, it's ok." Maura rubbed the baby fine hair from Jane's temple and pressed Jane's cheek to her bosom. "Don't worry, darling. No harm done."

Maura continued cooing and petting and loving until Jane's grip loosened and she slumped to rest in the bed. Even then, Maura curled herself around Jane, refusing to let up unless Jane no longer wanted her there.

Finally, Jane wiped her wrist against her closed eyes and took a wavering breath. "How do you—" She cleared her throat— "How do you not get mad?"

Maura's thumb wiped along Jane's zygomatic arch. "Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"Then there's nothing to be mad about."

"But I'm—"

"No 'buts', Jane. Whatever this is, we'll get through it. Until then, I can find other ways of loving you."

Jane was silent as she let those words sink in, and Maura wondered if she'd fallen asleep. She traced Jane's clavicle to her scapula and left her hand there, intending to follow Jane into sleep.

Before she could, Jane's lips pressed down on her thumb, then she turned her head toward Maura and spoke with clarity. "Let me love you?" A slight shake of Maura's head indicated she didn't understand the question. "I know you're nervous about delivery. And that's normal, I'm sure. But. Is there anything I can do? To help?"

Promise that Echo will love me? "No. I don't think so."

"Oh." Jane put her head down, crestfallen. "Ok. I'm sorry."

"Jane." Maura was about to scold her for being sorry when there was nothing to be sorry about, when she realized. "Hope."

"What?"

"I think. I would like to speak with Hope."

"Oh. Ok." The corner of her mouth tugged up. "I can make that happen."