Aww Pillar2Post, I'm sorry you feel that way! Last chapter was a bit eh for me... I needed to address a few things that readers had raised plus things that were niggling in my own head... but I'm still pretty happy with it. Anyway, this story has pretty much reached the end of its tether... LOL, it's been stretched out long enough!... so hopefully the last chapter/s will make you like it again. xo Thank you for telling me what you think though!

So much hatred from guests on the last chapter. In reply: NO, I will not be showing it to a publisher... are you insane? They aren't my characters! There is maybe a dozen spelling errors in the whole thing, and I'm guessing those would all be typos, and, unless every single Rizzles fic has an AU warning that I've somehow missed, you can't complain that mine doesn't have one. Also to the guest reviewer complaining that it has fallen apart... stop reading it. Simple. Oh, and take your negativity elsewhere. There's enough bad shit in the world without you throwing in your two cents. This story is making me happy, it's making others happy... deal with it.

And once more, no, I do not consider this story anywhere CLOSE to my best work. It is simply something for fun while I'm not well. If you don't enjoy it, there are plenty of other stories out there for you.

Sorry for pissy tone, but I am getting incredibly frustrated with the trolls. But *big hugs* for everyone else! xoxo

ONTO THE CHAPTER

***CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE***

"What's wrong with your arms?"

Jane looked at Maura out of the corner of her eye. She hadn't even taken her eyes off the TV, and was still able to see Jane rubbing her wrists.

How does she do that?

"Nothing."

"Uh huh." Maura quickly looked over. Jane let go of her right wrist quickly, trying to turn the quick movement into some bizarre stretch move.

And now we move into salutation of the armpit... ooh, which is stinky. Need deodorant. Where is deodorant? Hmm...

Focus, Jane.

"Jane." Maura has a warning tone to her voice that makes Jane's eyes pop open dramatically wide as she attempts to look innocent.

"Just stretching."

"Massaging your obviously sore wrists is now considered stretching?"

Jane blinked. "Hey, I thought I said to stop with the sarcasm."

Maura looked ridiculously pleased with herself. "And I believe that I said I would stop when you stopped."

"Which is not going to happen."

"Well, there you go. You have your answer as to when I will stop." Maura grinned. Jane rolled her eyes.

"Uh huh."

"What's wrong with your arms?" Maura quickly blurted out again, and Jane sighed.

Really? Does she really think the 'catch me off guard' method is going to work? I am a detective, for fuck's sake.

"Nothing."

Silence for a few minutes, then... "What's wrong with your arms?"

"Nothing."

Silence for a minute, then Jane felt a light tug on her sleeve. She turned to see...

No. Come on, no. That's not fair.

... Maura's huge eyes staring up at her beseechingly.

I'm pretty sure this woman invented the puppy dog eyes.

"Maura!"

"Jane," Maura whimpered quietly, "will you please tell me what's wrong with your arms? Is it your wrists? Are they aching? Can I help?" She fluttered her eyelashes a few times.

Jane glared. She was actually pretty certain that this behaviour of Maura's was entirely genuine... that she's not putting any of it on just to make Jane cave... but it's still irritating just how quickly it does get her to cave.

"My wrists are sore."

"Oh," Maura said, biting her lip. When she tentatively reached for Jane's left arm, Jane let her have it easily, watching as she began to knead the aching muscles with long, smooth swipes of her thumbs.

"Thanks," Jane finally said, her eyes downcast. "I don't know why it's just started aching all of a sudden... it's been fine."

"Post Traumatic Arthritis," Maura nodded knowingly. "Not much is known about it as generally sufferers are diagnosed with alternate forms of arthritis instead... osteoarthritis is typically the most common diagnosis. However, PTA is the more apt name, as it is caused after a traumatic event, for example, the breaking of your bones, while osteoarthritis tends to develop over time. It can take a while to be noticed by the sufferer however, as there is usually some residual aching after the casts come off that the patient learns to ignore."

"Thanks Dr Google."

Maura grinned widely, swapping her ministrations over to Jane's right arm. Jane tried not to moan as the aches seemed to be magically swept away by Maura's touch.

"What the hell are we even watching?"

Maura perked up. "It's a fascinating documentary on..."

Jane held her hand up. "No no no. 'Fascinating' and 'documentary' are two words that do not belong together. Unless you happen to be saying 'This documentary is fascinatingly dull'."

Maura tilted her head. "How can something be 'fascinatingly dull'? If it is fascinating, that means you find it incredibly interesting, but if it is dull, that means you find it boring... I don't understand."

"Exactly. It's a... whaddayacallit... an oxymoron."

Maura frowned, pausing her thumb movements as she looks up. "I am aware of what an oxymoron is."

"But you don't see how stating that a documentary is fascinating is an oxymoron?"

Maura's frown deepened. "No. Because I do find it interesting. And fascinating."

Jane stared at the screen for a few seconds. "It's a documentary on the breeding habits of beetles. Really, Maura? This is interesting?"

Maura looked at the screen too. "Oh. Well, okay, maybe this one isn't quite as fascinating but..."

Jane started cackling. Maura's look of indignation at being interrupted only lasted for a few seconds before she started laughing too.

"You're not funny," she said after a few minutes, when she finally got her breath back, whacking Jane lightly on the chest.

"Yes I am. I'm hilarious." Jane gasped, then paused, thinking. "And sexy."

Maura rolled her eyes.

"What? You don't think I'm sexy?"

"You know I do... not."

"MAURA!"

Seriously. Where does she pick up this sarcasm and sense of humour thing?

Oh. Me. That's right.

Heh heh.

After the impromptu tickle fight had ended (Jane had won, yet again, bringing her to a staggering 5-0 win against Maura... it helped that Jane was not ticklish at all, while Maura most definitely was, but whatever), Maura lay curled up against Jane's chest, twirling the dark locks around her finger and breathing deeply.

"What are you doing?"

Jane could almost hear Maura blush. "Uh... smelling you."

"Why?"

"I like your colour."

Huh?

"Huh?"

"Your... colour."

Jane blinked. "You mean my scent?"

Maura worried at her bottom lip for a little while. Jane didn't have to see it to know that that was what she was doing. "No, I mean your colour."

I repeat, huh?

"I... what?"

"Your scent has a colour to me. I... everything I smell, I see its corresponding colour. I've always had it. It's called synaesthesia."

Maura ducked her head even further as she delivered this slightly bizarre little statement, and Jane had a hard time encouraging her to look up again. Finally she did, and Jane stared into beautiful, troubled eyes.

"Do you think I'm weird?"

"Always," Jane grinned, and Maura's face fell as she looked down. "Hey... hey. It's what I love about you though." Maura smiled. "But I need you to explain. Please?"

Maura nodded, and Jane watched as she seemed to gather her thoughts. "It's not as rare as you might think, you know. Scholars believe that as much as 4% of the population has it. It comes in many forms you know... some people can taste numbers or letters, they can see music..."

"And you?"

Maura shrugged. "Smells have colours."

Jane grinned. "So... what colour is the smell of... cigarette smoke?

Maura crinkled her nose. "Black."

"Donuts?"

"A bright, hyperactive pink."

"Pizza?"

"Reddish-orange with spots of yellow."

"Icecream?"

"Cream with spots of multicoloured dots throughout."

"Corndogs?"

"Are you just naming all your favourite unhealthy foods now?"

"No!" Jane tapped her chin. "Aha! A dead and decomposing body?"

"It's like an avalanche of muted greens, mustard yellows and pale browns; the severity of the colours are highly dependent upon the degree of decomposition of course."

"Of course." Jane smiled slightly. "Okay... me. What's my colour?"

"Green."

Jane drew her head back. "Really? I smell like death?"

"What? No!"

"You just said that a decomposing body smells like green, now you're saying I smell like green. Man, I need to change deodorants..."

Maura laughed. "No, you are an entirely different green. The green I see when I smell dead bodies is... dark. Dead. The green I see when I smell you is... bright. Alive. Vibrant, full of energy, and love and passion and... it's just you. It's just... it's everything about you that I love," she hesitated briefly, then... "but, you know, if you wanted to change deodorants, I wouldn't be completely opposed. Your current one is a bit strong..."

Half an hour later, Jane updated her internal Tickle War score boards to 6-0.

But then, it had ended in sex, so maybe Maura won that one...

Okay. 5-1.

But it's still in my favour because I kick ass. The end.

R&IR&IR&I

"Stop looking so pleased with yourself."

"Stop it."

"Bass."

Jane rolled her eyes as Bass all but gloated in the corner of the room.

In fact, she was pretty sure that if she could understand what he was saying, he would be gloating.

"Yes, yes, you bit his ankles, happy now?"

Bass lifted his head and swayed it back and forth gently.

"Oh, stop gloating."

He lowered his head and blinked slowly at her.

"What?"

He blinked again.

"I'm not saying it."

He took one step forward.

"Nope. You can forget it."

Another step.

"Besides, what are you gonna do? I'm up on the bed. You're down on the floor. You gonna glare at me till I give in? Not like you can get up here." She crossed her arms defiantly.

Bass tilted his head.

"Oh stop it, you look like Maura when you do that."

Bass made a weird little noise between a hiss and a snort.

"What the hell was that?"

Jo came running into the room.

Ooookay...

Bass inclined his head towards the bed, looking at Jo meaningfully. Jo took a running leap and...

"Oh God, Jo!" Jane attempted to gently wrestle with the excited dog as she attempted to lick every inch of her face. "Okay, okay, I give, I give! Bass, you did a great job biting Ian's ankles. I found it hilarious," she paused, then added as an afterthought, "and you can bite him again should be ever happen to come back over here."

Bass tilted his head once more. Jo seemed ready to recommence licking.

"And Casey."

Bass looked pleased with himself. Jo hopped down from the bed. And...

"Are you encouraging my tortoise to engage in bad behaviour?"

Jane froze. "Uh. No?"

"No."

Jane winced. "No."

"No."

"Stop repeating what I say."

Silence. Jane turned around slowly. Maura was sitting up with arms folded across her chest, an adorable little crinkle from her pillow lining her cheek.

Jane poked it.

"Jane!" Maura swatted at her hand, but a grin was breaking out across her face even while she still attempted to look annoyed.

"What?"

"You don't poke people's faces randomly!"

"Why not?"

"Just... you just don't."

Jane opened her arms and Maura happily settled onto her chest. "Oh. Okay then."

No regrets.

Maura shook her head and laughed. "Look, just... stop trying to make Bass more like you."

Jane frowned. "What do you mean, more like me? He is already like me."

"No he's not."

"Yes he is."

"No, I'm like Bass, and you're like Jo."

Jane scoffed. "No, no! I'm like Bass, and you're like Jo."

Maura crossed her arms. "Explain."

"Well... Bass is the boss. Jo does whatever he says. And he takes care of Jo."

Maura turned around to look at her, eyes narrowed. "So... you're saying you're the boss."

"Yep."

"And I do whatever you say."

"Obviously."

"Uh huh." There was silence for a few minutes, then... "Jane, will you go down and get my iPad from downstairs please?"

"Okay." Jane wriggled out from behind Maura, put her robe on and was about to head out the door when she heard a distinct giggle behind her.

Heeeey...

"Maura!"

Maura was looking as innocent as one can when one has a giant shit-eating grin across their face.

"That is so not fair."

The grin widened.

"FINE. I'm Jo, you're Bass. Whatever." Jane pulled her robe off and slumped back in bed, only grumbling minutely when Maura cuddled up against her side again.

"He was right... I do wear the pants around here," Maura mumbled.

Jane almost choked. "Who was right? And where'd you hear that expression?"

"Frankie." Big eyes stared up at her innocently. "He said I wore the pants and I had you wrapped around my little finger."

Jane groaned. "Right. Yet another person who thought we were together before it actually happened." She sat up. "So how many people does that make it?"

"Frankie, Angela, Korsak, Frost..." Maura started counting off on her fingers.

"Casey, Ian..." Jane couldn't help but make a face at the name. Maura rolled her eyes fondly.

"Tommy..."

"Tommy? How do you know what Tommy thought?"

"He told me. A long time ago. When we were fighting. He thought the reason I wouldn't sleep with him was because I was sleeping with you, and that when we were arguing, his chances..."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Okay, stop talking. I don't want to hear about that ever. But of course he did."

"We should probably include Lydia too then. She thought we were dating when she first met us."

Jane blinked. "Right."

"Oh, and my mother."

"Lydia thought I was dating your mother?"

Maura rolled her eyes. "No. My mother thought we belonged together. She took a real shine to you at the installation... the second time she met you, I think it was."

Jane flushed. "Right. Well, I think we can also include half of BPD..."

"And Susie."

"Sus... okay. Right."

"Oh, don't forget Lieutenant Cavanaugh."

"Of course."

There was a silence in the room as Jane watched Maura wrack her brains trying to think of more people to label, and suddenly she felt overcome by a wave of such intense love, it brought tears to her eyes. She cleared her throat noisily.

"So... about a bazillion people thought we were dating."

Maura blinked. "Well, not a bazillion. That is, to my best knowledge, a fictional number that is meant to indicative of a very large amount..."

"So it is entirely appropriate in this situation then."

Maura frowned. "Well... I... yes. I suppose, though the true number would lie merely in the tens. Perhaps hundreds, were we to count suspects and family members who perhaps suspected that..."

Jane cut her off again. "And we've been officially dating now for like... what, three, four weeks?"

Maura faltered. "I... when are we starting the count from? The first time you said you loved me or the first time we kissed or..."

"And we've been unofficially dating for about four years."

Maura flushed. "I... I suppose you could say that."

"And it came as a surprise to approximately no one when we told them we were dating, 'cause they suspected we were having it off on the side anyway."

Maura's flush deepened. "That is such a vulgar way of..."

"So... it wouldn't be too early to ask you to marry me then?"

Maura blinked, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

There was a loud noise by the side of the bed. Bass had gotten to his feet and was excitedly bashing up against every piece of furniture he possibly could, while Jo just sat in the middle of the room, yipping constantly, her tail a blur.

Jane stared.

"Are you..."

"Maura..." Jane took her hands and studied them intently: the colour difference against her own, Italian complexion, the way they fit so perfectly within her own... she sighed heavily and felt a grin break across her face. "We've been made for each other since the moment we met. Marry me. Please."

Silence. Jane stared hard as Maura's eyes watered, the tears finally spilling down sweetly freckled cheeks.

"Yes."

END CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

When typing this chapter, I kept inadvertently typing in present tense (as opposed to past tense as the whole story has been). I think I've caught all the errors, but please let me know if you see something I've missed.

One more chapter (epilogue) and that's it! It's been a blast :-D

Much love xoxo