A/N: I'm pimping out my favorite character from my new obsession, Bomb Girls. If you've not seen it, go out to Netflix/the Internet and watch the 18 episodes that managed to air before it got cancelled. Seriously, stop reading this and go watch it. Betty McRae is perfect and I'm really excited to incorporate her into this universe.

Maura was flat on her back on Camille's couch and Jane was right on top of her with both of Maura's legs wrapped around her. They had spent a good while catching up with each other, and it had been Maura's suggestion to resume making out rather than part ways, and Jane was eager to comply. Maura was a disarmingly good kisser, and maybe it was just that the time apart had made Jane forget, but she was inclined to wonder if Maura had picked up any tips watching girls in Paris.

They had lost track of the time when Jane heard footsteps on the front porch outside. She scrambled to get off of Maura (valiantly ignoring the arousing gasp Maura had let out at the sudden loss of contact). The collar on Jane's jumpsuit didn't reach very high, and she sprinted to the kitchen to grab Maura's scarf to cover up the telltale marks she knew would be on her neck. Following Jane's lead, Maura grabbed her coat and upturned the collar. She was still buttoning the coat when Frost walked inside.

He took one look at Jane, then Maura, taking in their flushed faces and guilty expressions.

"All right," he sighed. "What'd you break?"

"Nothing!" Jane said, sounding offended.

Frost shot her a skeptical look that soon changed to one of confusion. "What're you two doing here?"

It was more than a valid question, and Jane couldn't think of a good reply on her feet. "You're home kinda early, aren't you, Frost?"

"No," he said, looking surprised and put off that she had asked this rather than answer what seemed to him a logical question. "It's 8:20."

Jane's heart sank as she glanced at the clock to confirm the time. "Jiminy!" she muttered. "Well gee, Frost, I uh—y'know Maura here's been out of town for the holiday…"

"And you decided to catch up at my house?"

"No, I—I mean I guess we've been with each other for a while, and um …I wanted to show Maura that bike I might buy off Robin. The one she's keeping in your garage. So I phoned your house and your mother was on her way out. She said it'd be all right if we came by even if she wasn't here, though, so… we did."

Frost gave her a long, searching look. "Wanted to take a look at the bike, huh? That why you're wearing a jumpsuit from Gilberti's Garage?"

"A…" Jane looked down, having forgotten she was still wearing the thing. "Oh. Oh! Yeah, Gilberti's son was just, um… he offered to show me a couple things in case the bike needed work or—y'know what, I'm just gonna change back into my regular clothes, if that's all right."

Although Maura looked distressed to be getting left on her own, Jane needed a minute to collect her thoughts. She knew Frost felt something was up, and she had to be on her A game to keep him from asking more questions. This wasn't just on her, though; Maura had to try helping to cover their tracks, too. So Jane grabbed her schoolbag and zipped to the bathroom to change, leaving Maura and Frost alone together. When it became clear that Maura (doing an excellent if unintended impression of a deer in headlights) wasn't going to speak, Frost cast about for something to say.

"So! What'd you think of the bike?"

Having not yet seen the vehicle in question, Maura had to try and word her way around it. "I—well—I know Jane's quite fond of motorcycles, and I know a thing or two about them myself, so—"

Frost interrupted her with a surprised laugh, and Maura felt relieved that it helped erase the borderline-suspicious look on his face. "You? You know about bikes?"

"A little, yes, I do. Once, my father and I were driving on his friend's Ducati along the roads of La Rochelle in the summer. We had an issue with the engine, and my father knew how to fix it. I was thirteen, then, I think. He figured it would be a good idea to teach me basic car and motorbike mechanics, just in case I ever found myself in trouble and I was alone or with someone else who was inept."

"Gee, that's handy," Frost said, and Jane walked out of the bathroom changed back into her dress, the jumpsuit folded into her schoolbag. "You cold in here, Rizzoli?" he asked, nodding at the scarf she still had tied around her neck.

"Huh? No! No, uh, but I needed it for the shed where that bike is. We were just on our way out, so…"

Frost moved away from the front door, holding his hands up. "Well, don't let me keep you. Go enjoy your night."

Jane gave Maura a gentle push towards the door, nodding at Frost. "Thanks, buddy. I'll see you around." As soon as they got outside, she swore lightly. "Maura! Gee whiz, I had no idea it was so late. You must be starving, can I get you a burger or something?"

"That sounds a bit too rich at the moment," Maura said, her teeth starting to chatter. "Is there any place around here one could get a cup of soup?"

"Soup? Oh, babe, you cold? Here, I'm sorry," Jane said, starting to unravel her scarf. "I just grabbed this 'cause I needed to, y'know, cover up for Frost."

"You'd better keep it," Maura said. "Until you can change. It's too bad, though…" She bit her lip and brushed her fingers against Jane's neck. "It looks really sexy on you."

"You know what's not sexy? Frostbite." Jane put an arm around Maura to keep her warm as they headed in direction of the Rizzoli home. "Should we have borrowed Frost's phone, so you could call your folks? Will they be upset you weren't home for supper?"

Maura shook her head and smiled shyly when Jane glanced her way. "I told them not to expect me home until after dinner. It's my first day back with you, Jane! I wasn't about to rush home for an evening without you."

"Geez, Maura," Jane laughed. "You sure have a way of making a girl feel special."

If a few kids hadn't been about to pass them, Maura would've kissed Jane on the cheek. "With good reason," she said. "You deserve it. You are special. If I make you feel that way, I've done my job."

Jane laughed. "Don't you go quitting any time soon then, okay?"

They had reached a street corner, and with nobody now in sight, Maura leaned over for a peck on the cheek. "Don't you worry, Jane Rizzoli. I'll be here."

Jane gave her a squeeze, and as she couldn't think up a good reply, chose to let that gesture speak for her gratitude. Once a long enough silence had passed, Jane said, "I've got a later curfew on Fridays, but my parents are gonna lay into me for missing dinner, I'm sure. I can't believe I lost track of the time like that. That's never happened to me before! I mean I'm late sometimes, but not ever like this. Holy cow."

"Will they be very angry?"

"Oh, yeah. Ma will go on about how she slaved over the preparation and how disrespectful it was for me to miss it without giving her notice. Not that those aren't valid points, but gee, Maura. I missed you something awful, and that's how come I lost track of the time. I don't know how to explain that to my parents."

"Really? It seems quite simple to me."

"How's that, Einstein?"

"You tell them what you just said. You missed me. I mean, you don't have to include all the details of these past few hours, but you could at least just say we were talking and lost track of the time, which is true. We had a lot to catch up on."

Jane rolled her eyes as they turned onto her street. "Yeah, I'm sure Pop would like to hear all about the gay old time you had in Paris."

Slightly annoyed by Jane's sarcasm (which she was getting better at detecting), Maura decided to torture her a bit: "Oh, and I didn't even get to telling you about the lingerie shopping I did over there."

At that, Jane stumbled onto the front steps, and the loud resultant plunking sounds may well have been what alerted Angela to open the front door. She looked down at the girls as Maura was laughingly helping Jane back to her feet, and the two of them froze when they realized Angela was glowering down at them, hands on her hips. Jane cleared her throat and hurried up the rest of the steps with Maura on her heels, neither of them sure what to say. They were beat to the punch when Angela inhaled deeply, drawing herself to her full height.

"You make any New Year's resolutions, Maura?" Angela asked. The girl meekly shook her head, which was only fitting considering Angela's severe expression and flat tone. It didn't quite gel when she said, "I resolved to be a more forgiving person, particularly in regards to my daughter, here." She clapped a hand on Jane's shoulder, and Jane faltered under the implied expectations that followed. "I remember how it feels to be your age, always wanting to run around with your fella or your girlfriends. Sometimes nobody's got a nickel for a phone call. Sometimes you can't find a phone at all, or you just plain lose track of time. Now I have some… well, never mind. I know deep down, you're good kids."

This was not at all the welcome Jane had been expecting, and to say she felt sheepish would be an understatement. "Ma, I'm sorry I didn't call. I lost track of time."

"Well, honey, you missed supper."

"Yeah, I kinda figured," Jane said. "I was gonna take Maura ou—I mean, we were gonna grab a bite, but I wanted to check in first. And also get Maura some gloves or something." When it seemed Angela had no response to this, Jane glanced inside and asked, "Is Pop around?"

"Jane, what time is it?"

"Uh…8:30?"

"On?"

"Friday. Oh. Bowling night?"

"Mm-hm. Frankie had a date with Riley, so it was just me and Tommy for dinner. Your father won't be home until after ten, you know that. Well, are you girls going to come inside, or aren't you?"

Jane led the way indoors, and she hurried upstairs to her room. Maura tried her best to smile at Angela, who no longer looked imposing. If anything, she seemed morose as she shrugged at Maura and returned to the living room. After standing there awkwardly for a few moments, Maura walked up the stairs, going slow as if she expected Angela to come back and chastise her for keeping Jane so late. But she got to Jane's room unscathed, where the first thing she noticed was a bouquet of winter roses. It was her gasp at seeing them that got Jane to look outside of the closet she was buried in.

"These are beautiful!" she gushed.

"You think so?" Jane asked, grinning and walking over. "Those were supposed to be for you. I picked them up yesterday on my way to school. The storeowner opened up early for me and everything. When you didn't show, I figured I ought to bring them back and put them in water rather than let them stay in my locker," she said, rubbing the back of her neck as Maura looked at her imploringly. Jane knew what she was going to ask. "I'd just give them to you now, but my mother came in here last night and wanted to know what they were for, on account of the fact that I'd never go and buy flowers for myself. Or—to her knowledge—for anyone else. So I told her they were from Giovanni as a late Christmas present, and she thought that was real sweet, I guess."

Maura couldn't help lowering her head in disappointment. Nothing would have given her more pleasure than to run home and show her mother the bouquet of flowers Jane had gotten in time for her return, but instead they would remain here, confined to Jane's desk for a lie she had told her own mother in a panic.

"Hey, bright eyes, don't look so down," Jane whispered, tilting Maura's chin up for some much-needed eye contact. Maura looked ready to lean in for a kiss, but Jane, wary of her open bedroom door, stepped back. "Here's some gloves," she said, pressing a black pair into Maura's hands. "If you're all right, I think I'll change into something a little more comfortable."

"That's not code for something, is it?" Maura asked, and her mischievous tone got Jane to blush as she carried her jeans and a button-up shirt down the hall to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, the two set out of the house, with Maura wearing a borrowed pair of gloves and also one of Jane's old sweaters that would serve to hide the discolorations on her neck when she removed her coat. When Maura asked where they were headed, Jane's response was to inquire whether she had ever gone bowling before.

"Actually, I went for the first time last week."

"So you oughtta be a real pro now, huh? C'mon, I'm gonna take you bowling for your soup at the alley where my Pop plays."

Alley Cats had once been a hot spot for teenagers in town, but it had more and more become a nostalgic hang-out for older folks, especially veterans. Frank's team was there every week, and while the alley sometimes still played host to the under-thirty set, it was men like Frank who kept the place in business. The bar inside sold pizza and beer and pretzels, but on weekends in the winter they classed it up by offering soup and apple cider. In Jane's opinion, it was the best bowl of potato soup to be found on the east coast. She also thought that if her father were to see Maura in as casual a place as the bowling alley, he might stop seeing her as the privileged rich kid who hung out with Jane for mere kicks.

The alley was as loud and crowded as usual, and Maura was overwhelmed by the scent of beer that seemed to coat the floor and furniture that hadn't appeared to be cleaned in over a decade. As Maura took great pains to search for the coat hook that looked the least dirty, Jane's eyes shifted to a blonde at the bar who'd been looking their way ever since they walked in. Maura glanced over in time to see the masculine-dressed blonde nod in greeting to Jane, who looked confused but returned the gesture all the same.

"Do you know her?" Maura asked.

"Never seen her before," Jane said with a shrug. Reaching for Maura's hand was an impulse she didn't even think to fight as she led the way to her father's team. They were in their usual spot at the far right, and Frank slopped beer over Jane's shoes as he leapt to his feet to cheer on a teammate. She raised her voice over the din of the yelling and a nearby jukebox. "Hey, Pop!"

He turned and whooped in delight at Jane's sudden appearance. "Hiya, kiddo!" he yelled, putting an arm around her. He raised an eyebrow at Maura. "Well, Miss Isles. I wouldn't have thought a bowling alley would be your cup of tea. What brings a high-class girl like you to a joint like this?"

"Your daughter," she answered. "Jane's very persuasive."

"What d'you mean by that?" Frank asked, all pretense of a cheerful demeanor suddenly gone. Maura was startled by the sudden change.

"Nothing," she said. "I only meant…"

"Maura wanted to get soup, and I suggested this place," Jane said. "I figured maybe we could try our luck at one of the lanes while we were here."

Frank nodded, though he still wore an expression that indicated he had something stuck between his teeth. "Good plan. You girls oughtta have some fun. In fact, there's some gals who're about to start up a game themselves pretty soon a couple lanes over. You remember my C.O.?"

"McRae?" Jane asked. "Is he here?"

"His niece is," Frank answered, nodding towards the bar. "The cute blonde over there. Seems she and her buddy just moved down here from Toronto, and they're looking to make some friends. Go over and be sociable, huh?"

It was clear from his tone that he was speaking only to Jane, but Maura of course followed her. "Why doesn't your father like me?" she whispered.

"C'mon, Maura, you know why," Jane muttered back.

Maura wracked her brains, trying to remember when they might've talked about this. "Is it because my god is science?"

"That's part of it, yeah."

"Tell him I go to church! I do!" she added, when Jane raised her eyebrows. "Let him think you reformed me."

"Are you telling me to lie to my father for you?"

"It's not a total lie, I do go to churches. Or rather, I have in the past. It's been a while. I just don't go to worship. I go to admire the architecture of the buildings, or admire the music. I hate to say it, but your churches here leave much to be desired in terms of their architecture. Once you've been to cathedrals in Europe, it's a bit hard to size up."

"Okay, see, that's the other reason he doesn't like you," Jane sighed.

"What?"

"When you do that whole world-traveler, 'Europe-is-better-than-you' thing. It makes it sound like you think you're better than us, and technically, you are. My dad never feels secure around people who are richer than us, especially when they flaunt their money. So when you roll up in that nice car of yours wearing clothes that cost more than he makes in half a year, that gets on his nerves."

"Well how do I get on his good side?" Maura asked. "You always made it seem like you and your father were close. If that's true, I want him to like me."

"Maura…"

"What if we invited your parents over for dinner one night?"

"Holy—no! No, Maura, that is not a good idea."

"I'm going to ask my mother about it."

"God, Maura, why?! It'd only make things worse!"

"How do you know that? Maybe it would help him see that we're not so different."

"By having a five-course meal in your mansion surrounded by stuff that costs hundreds of thousands of dollars? Getting waited on by a maid and having dinner put together by a personal chef and not your mother? Yeah, Maura, you're just like us."

Maura stopped walking, but this didn't leave quite the impact she'd hoped as they'd just reached the bar. "When did this turn into an argument between us?"

"It didn't," Jane said, indicating the bar stool next to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be snippy. I'm just being honest."

A new voice joined them: "Trouble in paradise?"

Jane and Maura turned to look at the blonde who'd caught Jane's eye earlier. She was also the girl Frank had pointed out as his C.O's niece, who Jane hadn't fully decided to talk to yet. It seemed the choice was taken out of her hands as the girl sat herself down on Jane's other side, extending her hand.

"Name's McRae. Betty."

"Rizzoli. Jane Rizzoli. This here's Maura Isles."

"How do you do," Maura said, reaching over Jane to shake Betty's hand.

Betty took a long draw on a cigarette, smirking at Jane. "Rizzoli, huh? I've heard a lot about you from a friend of mine. I guess you know Roxie del Rossi?"

Hunched over the bar, Jane stared incredulously at Betty. Was that what the head nod earlier had been about? If she was going on first impressions, Jane would have to say that Betty struck her as the type who would also go for girls: she wore high-waisted trousers and men's shoes, and on top of that was a very masculine-styled work shirt. For her part, Betty was trying not to laugh as Jane adjusted the collar on her own shirt, making sure her hickeys were well covered.

Before their conversation could continue, they were approached by a bartender who asked what they wanted. Jane encouraged Maura to order a bowl of soup, then excused herself to use the restroom. Maura figured it would be best to stay back and wait for her soup, but she frowned when Betty slid off her stool and followed Jane to the facilities.

When she walked inside, Jane was leaning against one of the sinks with her arms folded. "Level with me, McRae. How well do you know Roxie?"

"Oh, pretty well I guess," Betty said, leaning against the door. "Met her on a tour with my uncle when she was a WAC. She's a real head-turner, I'll tell ya that. She was my first contact when I moved out here."

"My dad said you're from Toronto. What brings you to Boston?"

Betty pushed away from the door, walking towards Jane. "My uh, 'roommate,'" she said, emphasizing the last word and raising her eyebrows at Jane. "She's got a gig with a traveling band, and they're setting up shop in Massachusetts for a while. Figured I'd come along for the ride and see how the States were doing these days."

Jane nodded to herself, then shook her head when Betty offered her a cigarette.

"Listen kid, I just wanted to give you some advice," Betty continued, and Jane lifted her gaze to look at her. "You wanna be more careful how you act in public, okay?"

"What?"

"Take it from someone who learned the hard way. You think nobody'll look your way twice, just because you hope you look like any other two friends out for a nice jaunt on the town. But a lot of 'em know, and a lot of 'em wonder. So be careful how you look at your friend, and tell her to watch herself, too."

Jane sighed, feeling tense. "Easier said than done. She's been out of the country for over three weeks. This is her first day back."

"Exciting," said Betty, looking genuinely glad.

"Yeah." Jane laughed to herself, and it sounded almost foreign to her, coming out of nowhere. "I'm sorry," she said when Betty shot her a confused look. "This is just kinda funny, I guess. I go my whole life not even knowing women existed who were like us, and then in the span of about four months I fell in love and Roxie flirted with me and I found out that my best friend's mother has a girlfriend, and now I've met you."

What she neglected to mention—and only because she didn't realize it herself—was that if it hadn't been for her many talks with Camille since that all-important first one, it was improbable she'd be talking this candidly to Betty right now. Around Roxie, Jane had always been defensive, even anxious. She felt she was quick to deny things even to herself, because Roxie made her so uncomfortable. Whether either of them realized it or not, Camille had given Jane a vocabulary to use and the opportunity to discuss her feelings in a safe space. It was that practice which allowed her to talk with Betty right now without worrying about an impending heart attack that could come at any second.

That feeling returned in full force, however, when the bathroom door slammed open, admitting Maura. She locked the door and stormed over to Jane and Betty, not sure which one to narrow her eyes at first.

"Cool your heels there, honey," Betty chuckled. "I'm not about to—"

Maura grabbed Jane by the collar and yanked her down for a kiss, clearly catching Jane by surprise. Betty looked on, impressed, as Jane returned the kiss. But all too soon Maura broke it off, though she kept her hold on Jane's shirt as she turned to shoot a challenging look at Betty.

"Save your bowling alley seductions for someone who isn't taken," Maura said, striking a tone she clearly thought was intimidating. "Or I will chase you back to Canada myself."

Betty had valiantly been trying not to laugh, but she couldn't help smiling at that one. "Oh, you two are a real hoot and a half," she said. "And Roxie was right about you, princess. Fierce little femme! Say, how old are you two, anyhow?"

"I'll be eighteen in the spring," Jane said. "She's sixteen going on thirty."

"Ooh, that's tough," Betty said. "But here." She took crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and smoothed it out well enough to jot down an address. "You two ever feel like having a good time outside of a restroom, you just come here. Tell the girl at the door that you know Roxie. That's as good as a driver's license any day, from what I understand."

She handed the slip to Jane, then excused herself and unlocked the door, leaving them alone.

"Hold on," Jane said. "Have you talked to Roxie?"

"Hm?"

"Betty just said Roxie called you a 'fierce little femme.' Did you talk?"

"Well, we did meet outside the studio that day you were posing for your mother's friend," Maura answered innocently, but Jane's hard look made her confess further: "I spoke to her a while ago about her flirting with you. I wanted her to stop. Did she listen?"

Jane laughed, putting her arm around Maura's waist and tugging her a little closer. "Not really, no. But I gotta admit, the fact that you did that—and the stunt you pulled just now—it's kind of sexy."

Maura tried not to blush. "Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe a little reckless, though. How'd you know you could storm in here and kiss me like that in front of another girl? What if she'd, y'know, not been that way? I wouldn't have taken you for such a gambler."

"I only gamble when I know I can win," Maura said with a small smile. "And I was right, wasn't I?" She reached for the slip of paper Jane had been about to put in her pocket. "Jane, I meant to bring this up earlier. Camille's a lovely person to be sure, but if all you want is a place for us to do what is colloquially referred to as 'making out,' we could do that in my bedroom. In fact, there would be much less of a chance of our getting walked in on there."

Jane ran her hand up and down the small of Maura's back, her voice a low purr. "That's true, I guess. But I think the point of Camille's offer was that we could have somebody to talk in front of. You know, almost like a fake mother. A mother who'd actually be interested in and supportive of what we were …oh. I guess your mother's like that already, huh? Well, it was nice for me, anyway."

Now understanding the point, Maura softened her expression. "Oh. I see. Well, I'm happy to go back there any time you want, Jane. But…" She held up the paper with the address Betty had scribbled down. "I hope you'll also keep this place in mind."