A/N: You can't spell stressed without desserts.

Sunday family dinners have grown quite a bit since the early days when Angela and the Rizzoli siblings barrelled their way into Maura's life as well as her home. Between Tommy's own family, Lydia and TJ, and the addition of the Boston PD family, weekly dinners were more than the small family affair they once were. Korsak and Kiki, as well as Frost were permanent fixtures on Sundays, which expanded the guest list. Nina and Frankie came as a unit and wherever Angela was, Cavanaugh wasn't too far behind.

There were signs of the Rizzoli family all over her property. The interior nor the exterior were safe from knick knacks or born and bred Bostonian paraphernalia. Her pristine Beacon Hill residence was now home to a "tasteful" Red Sox flag that Maura fought the neighborhood association for rights to display. While she normally wouldn't ever use her status, as Chief Medical Examiner and an Isles, to influence others, the disappointment that graced the Rizzoli siblings' faces when she was forced to take it down caused the principled doctor to pull intricate strings to get her way.

The three sets of puppy dog eyes didn't really give her a choice.

But, there was a room in the blonde's house that failed to meet her exceptionally high standards of organization. Maura's master suite had signs and DNA of Jane all over the place. The bottom two drawers of her solid mahogany armoire were filled with folded jeans, t-shirts, tank tops, yoga pants, and undergarments before they got together. The disorder of those two drawers used to drive the immaculately organized and meticulously calculated doctor insane. Maura would fold and reorganize constantly only for the clothes to be crumpled and remixed.

The left bedside table was no better. A frayed wire charger laid haphazardly on the glass top side table, which housed a naked Chapstick tube in the middle of the coil to prevent it from rolling onto the ground. There was a near empty tub of Aveeno moisturizer and a well-loved paperback copy of Crime and Punishment. Maura had offered to get her a décor matching basket to store all personal items, but Jane refused as it would 'disrupt her nighttime mojo.' How could she argue with that?

However, the master bathroom screamed Jane's presence the loudest. The wooden paddle brush that was consistently left on the marble countertop was matted with curly brunette hair. Maura loathed the cheap hair tool and knew that someone with Jane's hair should avoid using one at all costs. Jane hated cleaning it and every time she brushed her hair, strands of hair that could collectively create a wig littered the sink area. In almost a decade of living in her Boston home, Maura has gotten her bathroom sink and bathtub drains professionally unclogged more times than she'd like to admit or count.

Maura Isles, professional organizer and germaphobe extraordinaire, loved every second of it. The Rizzoli's, but especially Jane, filled her once cold and dull life with character and spontaneity. She used to find comfort in order. Maura craved the feeling of structure. But Jane showed her that straying from routine, every once in a while, didn't catastrophically alter her life. Coloring outside the lines of perfection gave her a thrill and liberty she didn't know existed.

She jumped at the sudden body that moulded itself behind her. Arms snaked around her waist and the solid body at her back trapped her against the kitchen island. Fingertips roamed up and down her bare thigh and eventually, a hand made it upwards to cup her breast. Rough, worn cotton brushed harshly against a pierced nipple. With her chin tilted down, almost touching her chest, black framed glasses fogged intermittently. Maura let go of the knife and shivered as it clattered against the marble island.

Jane was awake.

"Good morning, my love," Maura whimpered.

"It's Sunday," Jane stated.

"Astute observation, Detective." Maura lifted her head and laid it back against Jane's shoulder. She craned her neck towards one side as soft kisses mixed with sharp nips were peppered up and down sensitive skin. Jane was feeling particularly amorous and Maura's body should've been exhausted. But as rough and knowing touches ratcheted up her arousal, she couldn't help but respond. White knuckles gripped the edge of the island and she arched her back into Jane's body. Breakfast could wait.

"You weren't in bed when I woke up," Jane breathed out.

"Your mother will be here in two hours."

"Two hours is a lot of time, baby girl."

Maura groaned, but knew that when it came to their sex life, regardless of how new it was, two hours would never be enough. It has previously never been enough and the evolution of their relationship changed Jane's status from morning grouch to tenacious lover between the hours of 5:00 AM to 8:00 AM. There were too many times that Maura thought they could squeeze in alone time before her internal 6:00 A.M. alarm, but was embarrassingly mistaken when it was all of a sudden 8:49 A.M. and Kent called to inform her of lab results. The calls always went unanswered as her mouth was busy elsewhere.

Quick hands made work of lifting her t-shirt above her breasts and wandering fingers trailed above the elastic waistband of lace. She summoned all her will power to resist and shockingly found it when she jerked away from her lover's body. Her back was suddenly cold and she missed the warmth instantly.

"Later, darling," Maura pleaded. Her eyes kept glancing at the vegetables to be prepped and other Sunday dinner items that littered her kitchen counter. She wished nothing more than to indulge Jane, but knew that Angela could make her appearance at any time. Maura has been dreading this specific family dinner as she was unsure of the chaos Angela would incite after finding out about hers and Jane's newfound relationship. Her nervousness and trepidation outweighed her desire and love for Jane. Just this once.

"You look nervous," Jane stated casually.

"W-what? No, I don't. It's just a normal Sunday dinner." Maura tried to brush it off. She hoped that her demeanor came off as nonchalant and calm, but internally, she was screaming. The normally elegant blonde shifted her weight from one foot to another. Her dominant hand's forefinger and thumb went to twirl the ring that would have usually been on her left middle finger. But to no avail, her finger was bare and the ring was in the ceramic dish atop of her armoire.

"Uh-huh…"

Behind polycarbonate lenses, Maura observed Jane as tanned forearms laid flat against the cold marble countertop. Hazel eyes trailed down naked arms as they flexed from Jane pushing her weight against the hard surface. Concentration became a struggle. She was transfixed on the beauty in front of her, despite the murky waters Angela may have in store for them looming on her mind.

"If we're quick with prepping, maybe—just maybe—we have time for a bath." A compromise. To hopefully quell the calm before the potential storm.

Theoretically, in a perfect world where Jane's hands weren't magnets for Maura's ass, meal prepping would have gone smoother and they would've had time for extracurricular activities. Unfortunately, every reach for a cabinet and every bend at the waist, in front of the fridge, caused a five to seven minute delay. Jane was insatiable yet adorably clingy. Every direction Maura went, Jane was barely half a step behind her. When stationary and chopping vegetables, Jane kept her company with arms around her waist and lips below her ear. It was a miracle she still had all ten fingers and not a bandaid or trip to the ER was necessary.

Unforeseen delays curtailed the possibility for an amorous afternoon, leaving them barely thirty minutes to get ready. But thirty minutes turned into a twenty minute high stakes game of keeping the hell away from each other and as always, Angela was ten minutes early. Maura, luckily, had her outfit preplanned and was able to answer the door in record time.

Angela and Cavanaugh waltzed into her house with non-perfunctory double cheek kisses and hugs. She has grown accustomed to the greeting and is eternally warmed by the parental affection. However, Maura visibly froze as the train of people entering her house did not stop at Cavanaugh. The stranger before her was tall. Approximately 6'1", short dark hair, and he wore a shirt that was designed to let people know that he worked out. Was it really that cold in her house?

"Sabatino Talucci, but you can call me Tino."

Maura's face burned red, but minded her manners. She met his extended arm with hers only for her back to become rail straight as his lips touched the back of her hand. Looking around for Jane, she found the eyes of an ashamed and guilty Boston PD lieutenant instead. The words I'm sorry were mouthed to her and suddenly her heart dropped. Angela came to start a fire. A very very green fire. She even brought her own accelerant and in that moment, Maura sure as hell knew that even a fully staffed Boston Fire Department wouldn't be able to extinguish the carnage Jane could unleash.

"I have to go…" Maura paused. "Uh...upstairs. Please make yourself, uhm, comfortable."

She took the stairs two at a time and quietly closed the master bedroom door shut behind her. However, Maura took one look at the comfortable brunette on her bed and the distress weighing her down ebbed for nanoseconds before it came back in full force. The deep inhalation was supposed to help her garner the courage to tell her girlfriend about the shit storm Angela just brewed, but it settled in her chest and got stuck.

"Jane." Maura wasn't sure how to broach the subject.

"Is that Ma and Cavanaugh? I'm starvin'," Jane complained.

"Jane, there's someone else here." She bit the inside of her bottom lip.

"Oooo, Frankie and Nina beat Ma and the old man?" Jane chuckled to herself.

"There's a Sabatino Talucci in my living room." Maura rushed the words out of her mouth and she'd be surprised if Jane actually understood her. Hands clenched and unclenched. Her nerves were making short nails dig crescent moons into her palms. Eyes were cast down, afraid to look up until she heard the low, feral voice of her lover.

"Excuse me?"

Jane shot up from the bed and stomped towards her. Maura automatically spread out her arms to block her love from trying to open the door. It was a ridiculous effort as the deceptively strong woman could easily move her without struggle. Maura pushed all her weight against the door and met obsidian eyes raging with fire. She wasn't sure if she should be frightened or incredibly aroused. The lack of experience with a jealous or protective Jane, now that they're lovers, has made her unprepared. Yet, from the small display in front her, she was positive that she'd eventually need to change her underwear or step away to temporarily take care of the problem herself.

"Your mother brought him over. Sean apologized, if that helps." Maura slowly lowered her arms and cupped Jane's cheeks instead. Thumbs softly stroked red heated cheek bones. She felt the tension deflate and for a moment, she could relax.

"Did I ever tell you about him?" Jane groaned and looked up at the ceiling as if the solution to all her problems would materialize out of thin air.

"I know that you both grew up together." Maura softly pressed butterfly kisses up and down a strong jawline. It became a calming technique learned after a particularly grueling case. Jane just melted into her and the rigidity within the stressed detective floated away. Maura smiled softly to herself as her lover folded her tall body into her shorter frame. Jane slumped against her and huffed out a breath that ruffled the ends of blonde hair. This was definitely the calm before the storm.

"He's got a type," Jane grumbled out.

"Tall, beautiful, brunette, detectives?" Maura was hopeful. Wishful, even. But knowing Angela? She was about to be dead wrong.

"Ha, funny one. Tell that to all the chicks he banged in his garage." Jane did let out a chuckle. So maybe all chances of civility weren't gone. Until she continued. "Blondes with green eyes and an amazing ass are his type."

Well.

Shit.

"Jane," Maura sighed. She had to come clean now. "I told Angela that we've been having intercourse."

"And Ma still brought Dickhead here?!"

Hands were emphatically in the air and Maura watched as they frustratingly gesticulated. The anguished contact of palms meeting denim covered thighs echoed in the bedroom and Maura pursed her lips together as Jane let out her frustration and annoyance. However, she was impressed that Jane dismissed her disclosure to Angela, despite the conversation they had about the Italian not caring how, if, or when they told other people. In fact, Jane didn't want to tell anyone, but she didn't want to hide it either. No changing how they interacted with each other. No second guessing what was appropriate in front of people. Just be together as naturally as possible. She called it "Detective's Exam 2.0" and wanted people to figure it out on their own.

"Mhm." Maybe nonverbal, noncommittal answers would defuse the situation.

"Alright, game on." Jane pressed their lips together quickly and gently pushed her to the side. Before Maura could turn around, Jane was bounding down the stairs.

She really hoped that there was enough pinot gris to get her through the night.

By the time Maura made her way downstairs, makeup to perfection, Jane was in the living room chatting with Tino. The blonde observed Jane and her body language. She looked so carefree on her corner of the couch. One arm was resting on the tops of the cushions and the other nursing a Blue Moon against the armrest. Long legs were spread wide and she looked completely at home. Maura smiled to herself as she admired the lips sipping a Blue Moon being effortlessly.

She didn't get the chance to go towards Jane or say 'hello' as Angela all but dragged her into the kitchen. Her favorite wooden chopping block was in her usual work station. The Wüsthof eight-inch cook's knife was set to the right of her board, just how she liked it, and the vegetables were waiting for her in a stainless steel colander. Maura sometimes forgot that this was her life now—people remembering her idiosyncrasies and taking the time to make sure it was to her standards and liking. Angela always remembered her favorites, which is why she couldn't understand the riot inciting invitation to a man Jane would eventually want to curb stomp in the gonads.

"How do you like those knives?" Angela asked. "I've been thinking about splurging on a new set."

Maura furrowed her brows. Out of all the things the Italian matriarch could have brought up, she wanted to talk about her seven year old knives? Talk about incendiary behavior. Nonetheless, Maura picked up her knife and began meticulously slicing the tomatoes and basil.

"Why did you bring Sabatino?" Might as well get it over with.

"I told you, stellina. Just a little sparring with my eldest." Angela ceased her chopping and cupped the blonde's freckled cheeks. Her hands were a little damp from the spinach, but Maura found it endearing regardless. She just didn't understand what Angela was trying to accomplish. But if there was anyone who could keep up with Jane and simultaneously piss her off, it was definitely Angela Rizzoli.

"You know he's going to hit on me, don't you?" Maura narrowed her eyes at the woman she thinks of as a mother.

"Si, stellina. But he knows I'll slap the shit outta him if he goes too far. Let me tell ya a secret." Angela raised her eyebrow and nudged her head for Maura to come closer. "He's got a boyfriend. I think he's bisexual, but he's datin' a man. So that means he's gay, no?" Jane obviously got her hand gestures from her mother.

"No, it means that he's bisexual. But I digress. Jane doesn't know?" Maura scrunched her nose.

"He came out long after she moved to her own place. She doesn't care anyways." Angela smirked at her knowingly. "Clearly."

"Oh my god. He's in on this, isn't he? Why?" Maura closed her eyes and realization hit her straight in the gut. Jane was in for quite a surprise and joke when she finally figured everything out or when everything eventually exploded. She can only pray that everyone else, who wasn't Angela, wasn't aware of what was about to happen. And if they were and didn't tell Jane? Well, they'll have to deal with her wrath. That's on them.

"He and Jane used to torture the shit outta each other in high school. I knew he wouldn't be able to pass this up."

"B-but they hate...each...other?" Perfectly shaped and filled brows furrowed in confusion.

"Oh, mia stellina, they hate each other so much they love each other. Sure, they grew apart. But the respect and care? It's still there. I know it is." Angela gave her a double cheeked kiss and nudged her head in the direction of the still unchopped vegetables and fruits.

Dinner rolled around quicker than Maura thought it would. Angela was right, despite Maura's hesitation to believe that everything would be fine. Jane, Frankie, Tommy, and Tino were all shoving each other around as if they'd been doing it for decades. Which in this case, it was the truth. With natural ease from years of practice, Maura and Angela began setting up the formal dining room.

Before moving a dish or getting tablecloths, Maura and Angela worked around each other as they somewhat struggled to latch and stabilize the new extendable dining room table the doctor purchased to compensate for the large Sunday dinner guest list. Their struggle did not go unnoticed and Maura instantly felt an unfamiliar and large shadow behind her. She let out a patient breath and counted to three. The scent of Giorgio Armani wafted into her nose and had it been anyone else, in a different time of her life, Maura could confidently appreciate the cologne. She'd have verbalized it too.

But she loved the smell of unscented Dove and Jane more. That's what drove her wild and calmed her simultaneously.

"You needa hand, babe?" The artful language and accent of South Boston was evident in a deep voice that was not Jane's. Or Frankie's or anyone else in her familial circle.

"No. Thank you." Thank god for the final latch clipping into place. By the time she stood to full height and turned, there was an oversized hand softly holding her waist. She braced two hands on a strong chest to steady herself and pushed against the hard surface lightly. Backing away quickly, Maura forced a tight smile. "If you'll excuse me…"

With the chaos that normally ensued when setting the table, Maura and Angela were able to get everything into the dining room without any Rizzoli siblings losing fingers by trying to steal a bite of food. As always, Angela and Maura sat at the heads of the table. Their spouses sat to their left and the others filled in as usual. However, there was one odd man out. Tino opted to sit to the right of Maura, which irked Frankie, as that was always his spot. And it has been for almost eight years. But the sharp look from Angela, made him roll his eyes and sit next to his sister instead with Nina following suit. Maura began to sweat.

A quick grace, led by Angela, was said before food was passed around. When every dish was passed to Tino, his fingertips grazed hers in a presumptuous and overly friendly way. His wink went unnoticed by Jane, who was too distracted by the five pound plate of lasagna and side of parmesan cheese in front of her. Maura forked her salad with a little too much force and the metal tines scraped against bone china. Everyone jumped and looked up at her.

"Sorry, sorry. Eat, eat. Manciàrti." She smiled and was internally relieved when everyone went back to their side conversations and plates. Angela's beaming smile at her did nothing to calm her nerves.

"So Maura, do you gotta boyfriend or somethin'?" Tino wiped his mouth with the lemon chiffon colored cloth napkin on his lap and leaned back comfortably against the chair. His smile was suggestive as was the rest of his demeanor. The lack of subtlety hit everyone like a freight train. The discomfort was felt and evident across the table.

The aggressive clatter of a fork and knife against the edges of Jane's plate echoed in the now silent room. Everyone froze mid bite and all side conversations were abruptly halted. Frankie's eyes went wide and Nina had her hand over her mouth. Korsak's face turned tomato red and Kiki tried to zen her way through the impending storm. Angela smirked while Cavanaugh just shook his head and tried to drown himself in the sauce on his plate. Frost snorted and tried to cover it up by coughing and Maura could do nothing but watch as everything unfolded before her.

"What the fuck are you gettin' at, Talucci?" Jane took a hearty sip of beer before she leaned more than halfway across the table on her forearms. There were centimeters between Jane's arms and the plate sitting precariously in front of Tino. And in Jane's world, the use of a surname was equivalent to pulling the pin from a grenade.

"Janie, watch your language at the table, would ya?" Angela rolled her eyes and tried to contain her mirth. Maura could see the nervousness creeping into Angela's body language as Jane became more and more incensed.

"Butt out, Ma," Jane groused. "And Tino? Keep your mouth shut, if ya know what's good for you, capiri? "

"I'm just trying to get to know your gorgeous friend here, Janie." Tino winked at Maura, which made her burn red from embarrassment. If Tino didn't rein in his attitude and behavior towards her, Jane would surely make him oblige to the general principles of decorum.

"Her name is Doctor Maura Isles, minchia. She's Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and she can bury your stupid ass six-feet under if you don't shut the fuck up." Jane set both elbows loudly onto the table and shot harsh looks at her lover and mother to prevent them from reminding her to mind her table manners.

"Well, Doctor Isles, would you like to get a drink with me tonight? After dinner?" Tino reached over and trailed his thumb over Maura's hand grasping the wine glass stem for dear life. His forefinger traced up her arm and—

"Sabatino Talucci! Stàtti! I will not stop these cops from putting your dumbass in a ditch." Angela started to fidget. She could see the childhood competitiveness coming out to play. Had she made a mistake? Did she underestimate the rivalry that still ran deep, almost thirty years later? Maybe Sean was right...

A chair scraped against hardwood floors. Maura winced and knew that there would be a gouge in her hardwood floor, or at a minimum, a severe scuff. Jane stood tall. The veins in her neck and forehead were pulsing. The feral look in her eyes and demeanor screamed fight. Rage was emanating in waves and hitting everyone square in the face. But no one got up. They were all resigned to the fact that Tino asked for it. Antagonized her. Poked the bear, so to speak.

"Clearly, this is a sign," Tino smiled. "Why don't we find some place more private to get to know each other?" He stood and held out his hand for Maura.

The horrified look on the blonde's face was priceless. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to find words. None came so she looked at her dinner guests for help. Frankie and Frost shot up from their chairs as quickly as they could while sitting properly in high back seats with cloth napkins on their laps. Their loyalty to Jane, but the protection over her were in full swing. She really hoped that she wouldn't have to get her medical bag from the Prius.

Tino sized up the situation. He glanced at Angela who just shrugged. But the Italian male in him couldn't back down. Not to his childhood frenemy who bested him at almost everything and anything. While he wasn't interested in Maura, though she was totally his type, it was the thrill of getting under Jane's skin and the satisfaction that he was able to unnerve her that pushed him to continue. If he were honest with himself, Maura was collateral damage and he'd apologize when things settled down. Which would be in like four generations.

"What do ya say, babe?" Tino stepped closer to her and went to pull out her chair.

Maura sprung up as soon as Jane pushed Tino into the wall behind her. His muscular body slammed into the plaster, making a hole where his shoulder collided with structure. Jane's forearm went straight against his throat with enough pressure to make his face turn red, but not entirely enough to make him lose consciousness. Maura tried to pull Jane back, but knew that her love was in detective "tunnel-vision" mode. Nothing could or would separate Jane from her target until physically removed. She knew that she didn't have the strength, but she had the power of persuasion.

"My love, you need to let go." Maura ran her hands across the tops of Jane's shoulders and down her sides. Her voice was so soft and while she was sure that Tino could hear her, it may be beneficial for both parties to draw a known boundary. "It's okay. I'm right here. I love you."

Pressure lessened and Tino took a huge gasp of air. His arms wrapped around Jane's wrists and instead of it deterring the detective, it put her fight response into overdrive. With a blink of an eye, his arm was twisted behind his back and his front was slammed against the wall. Jane used Tino's arm as leverage to hold him tighter and harder against damaged plaster. His grunts of pain and frustration were heard, but ignored by Jane as well as everyone in the room.

"Ascolti, puttana. Chissenefrega! Are you jealous?" Despite his position, Tino didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Pride was blinding him and made him unable to see the severity of the situation at hand. But he continued, "Jealous that I can hit it where you can't?"

Jane's voice turned from angry and impatient to matter of fact and awe-inspiring, but the incendiary clipped tone never left. And despite the hostility and cold food, Maura would categorize this night as a defining moment in their relationship. She could hear the sincerity and devotion coat every word. This specific declaration from Jane erased all doubts she ever had and any doubt she could ever have.

"She loves me. Wholeheartedly and without hesitation. She has to know that I love her just as much, if not more. So am I jealous, Tino? No, I'm not." Jane exhaled hard. Her fists clenched harder against his rigid body that was three seconds away from going straight through the wall. Her voice got lower and was tinged with threat and danger. "But I'm seething with rage that you thought you could walk up in her house and disrespect her like that. In front of her family, no less. And in front of a bunch of armed cops? Who the fuck do you think you are and are you fucking stupid?"

Maura watched as Jane didn't give him an opportunity to respond. She bum-rushed him out the front door and slammed it shut—inches away from his face. With as much poise and grace she had left in her, Jane sat down in her rightful place next to Maura and continued to eat her cold lasagna. Everyone followed suit, albeit shell shocked and uncomfortable. The rest of dinner was eaten in silence.

The blowup between Jane and Angela wasn't nearly as catastrophic or explosive as everyone thought it would be. In fact, Angela realized her violation of boundaries, with the forceful coercion from Sean, and apologized. Profusely. Jane, surprisingly, basked in the moment and took advantage of her mother's apologetic gestures. The brunette asked Angela several times to repeat the phrase I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that and the faint words of can I get that in writing may have been said, but the blonde wasn't sure. Maura rolled her eyes as she cleared the table and began cleaning up the kitchen.

As mother and daughter hashed it out in her living room, she overheard Angela express her excitement for their relationship. She nodded her head in agreement as Angela said that Jane should have told her, in person, but understood not wanting to make it a big deal. They hugged it out and left each other to finish up their Sunday dinner routine. Mother and daughter duo would probably need space from one another, as they always did after an argument. A little bit of avoidance from each other, for the next few days, would do them well.

Eventually, Maura's house reverted back to its spotless standard prior to the night's Sunday dinner. The Rizzoli's and Co. trickled out slowly as Maura turned the dishwasher on and shut the kitchen light off. At this point, she would normally join Jane on the couch, but there was something that caught her periphery every time she glanced around the room. With slow steps, she walked to her side of the now truncated dining room table and ran the pads of her fingers over the cracked plaster on the wall. Little white particles and dust crumbled under her fingers and fell against the baseboard.

She could see where his shoulder roughly met the wall and the damage was much deeper than she thought. It must've been when Jane rigged his arm behind his back and pulled to coerce compliance. Maura has never experienced someone defending her honor in such a physical manner. However, no lover of hers has ever been provoked like that either. And if they were, they never fought for her. Instead, they told her to take it as a compliment and they used it to boost their ego that they had a dime piece on their arm.

Maura has never met anyone like Jane. She has never loved anyone like Jane nor has she ever been loved by someone like her either. Maura was in awe of how openly and unapologetically Jane loved her. She only hoped that she was returning the sentiment just as fiercely.

"I'll fix it tomorrow," Jane whispered.

"Don't worry about it. I'll call some—" Maura jumped as arms made their way around her waist. She was still facing the wall as Jane's body moved hers closer to the damaged structure. Eye level with the shoulder shaped fraction, Maura stood completely still as Jane's hands pushed her flush against the cool surface.

"Let me repair the damage, Maura." Jane laid her forehead against the back of Maura's head. The height difference was stark as heels were taken off and Jane was naturally inches taller than her. Hands trailed from resting on her stomach to grazing the backs of her thighs and gliding up to settle on her ass. Maura's eyes closed on cue and she tried to lean back against the solid body behind her.

"I feel compelled to apologize, but I'm not—" Maura bucked towards the wall as Jane deftly unbuttoned designer slacks and slid her hand down to rest at the waistband of white lace. Fingertips teasingly edged in and out of the tops of her underwear. Her hands needed something to hold, but all she had was a damaged wall. She reached behind her and grabbed purchase of any part of Jane she could find. Jane hissed as nails dug into the backs of her thigh.

Maura was spun around and Jane pressed her harshly against the wall. The back of her head sunk slightly into the hole in the wall and Maura breathed out heavily. She was hesitant to open her eyes, fearful of what she would find. If Jane looked as feral as she sounded and as intense as she was acting, Maura knew her knees would give out and she'd melt straight through the tiles beneath her feet.

Before she could make her decision, hands grasped the backs of her thighs and lifted. Maura's automatic response was to jerk in surprise and simultaneously wrap her legs around a strong, yet lithe body. Her neck craned up as teeth and tongue lathed and nipped at her neck. She tightened her legs around Jane and loosely wrapped her arms around unstrained shoulders. The solidity of the wall made holding her up effortless, but the friction between her legs, growing from keeping herself upright, was wreaking havoc on her arousal.

She needed to be horizontal, on a soft flat surface with Jane above her and inside of her. And she needed it now.

Maura raked her fingers through curly brunette hair and briskly pulled. She crashed their lips together and took advantage of Jane's parted mouth to run her tongue along the roof of her mouth. The moan that came from her somewhere deep within her propelled Jane to get a better grip of her body and pull them away from the wall. Jane tasted like Blue Moon and comfort. Fuck, she couldn't get enough.

"Let me walk," Maura moaned. "Stairs. Dangerous." She crashed their lips together once more. This time, Jane got the upper hand as she flicked her tongue against Maura's and pulled their already impossibly close bodies closer. Between the inner seam of the blonde's pants and Jane's solid body, a temperature rising friction made her throb with every step the brunette took.

But Jane stopped in her tracks right before reaching the first step. At this moment, Maura felt a shift in the atmosphere. It was the same air Jane gave off when she had Tino shoved against the wall with his arm pinned behind his back. Possession and controlled aggression. Challenge and contempt. Had she done something wrong? Is Jane angry?

"Maura," Jane paused. "Do I look weak to you?" Obsidian eyes bored into hazel ones with an intensity she was sure could ignite a fire.

"No, but—"

"Have I ever let you fall before?" Jane took the stairs slowly, but confidently.

"No, but—"

"And do you think I'm going to start now?" She nudged the master bedroom door open with her foot and stood at the foot of the bed with Maura still in her arms.

"Obviously, not." Maura laughed lightly as she brushed their lips together softly.

Jane set her down gently and backed away a couple feet from the bed. Maura watched as observant eyes took in every inch of her body. Her breathing was quick and her chest was reddened by arousal. Painted toes were pointed out of habit as she rested her weight on her hands. Her head tilted slightly to the side and she crossed her legs, though a bad move on her part.

"I'm struggling with something," Jane confessed.

"Mmm, what is it?"

"I can't decide if I want to show you how much you mean to me," Jane breathed out deeply and paused.

"...or?" Maura knew. Jane's body language and facial muscles were seconds from becoming unhinged. She knew what Jane wanted. What she desperately needed to convey.

"Or show you who you belong to," Jane stated.

"That wasn't so hard to say, was it?" Maura crawled to the edge of the bed and kneeled. She waited for Jane to meet her halfway.

"But that sounds so fucked up."

Maura could see the conflicted emotions flicker across a troubled face. Jane's deep rooted respect for her autonomy and sense of individualism as well as independence weighed down her need to assert her dominance. To possess and show ownership. But Maura wasn't a damsel in distress. She knew she didn't need someone to save her and she was confident in her self-worth to know that no one owned her. Maura knew that she wasn't an object to be displayed and shelved.

But to be owned and possessed by Jane? That was a different matter in its entirety. Nothing Jane wanted was to be considered taking. Nothing Jane needed was in an effort to stifle her. One cannot take something that is given willingly. Jane cannot take what Maura is giving to her freely. It was her God-given free will to do what she knows to be right. Nothing is to be taken or possessed so long as she wills it. And in this case? For Jane?

"Take what you need because I'll give it to you. Whatever it is, it's yours to keep. You cannot take what I give to you freely."

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone for their patience. This update took waaay longer than I hoped. But alas, there's only two chapters left. The next one picks up where this one left off (ahem) and the last one will flash forward to serve as an epilogue of some kind. You're all rockstars for staying on this writing rollercoaster with me.

Side note: If you live in the United States and are eligible, please VOTE. And wear a goddamn mask.
Side side note: If you're on Tumblr, be my friend? [colossalsharks]