A week had passed since Jane and Maura shared their first kiss. And while the Christmas season was in full swing, no amount of watching TJ sit on Santa's lap or baking cookies with her mother could bring merriment to Jane's life.

The day after it happened, Jane brought a peace offering of fudge clusters down to Maura's office and was met with a locked door and drawn curtains.

"She's doing a consult for a case up north," Kent explained when he saw the detective. "I can give her those when she's finished."

The next day, and every day after, when Jane came down to visit the blonde she was met with anyone but.

"Judge Hollis called her in."

"She's working from home."

"She said she had an appointment and would be back after lunch."

Eventually the weekend rolled around and Jane found herself shelling peanuts at the bar of the Dirty Robber.

"You wanna tell me whats going on?"

Jane simply raised her eyebrows at her mother's enquiry.

"I've had four decades of that look," Angela said. "It doesn't scare me as much as you think it does."

"Worth a shot," Jane shrugged as she finished off the last of her beer.

"You've been out of sorts all week," Angela noted as she popped a top of another bottle and place it in front of her daughter.

"It's nothing," Jane lied as she took a long draw from the cold bottle.

"My ass its nothing."

"Ma!"

"Oh, don't ma me. Where do you think you got your mouth from anyways?"

Jane shrugged.

"I have't seen your car at Maura's since the weekend, and usually it's there more than it's at your place," the Rizzoli matriarch noted. "You wanna tell me what the fight was about this time?"

Jane simply shook her head.

"So you admit it has to do with Maura."

"Ma," Jane pleaded, her voice cracking.

"Oh, Janie," Angela soothed when she heard the pain in her daughter's voice. "I'm due for a break in a minute. Go pick us out a booth and we'll talk."

Nodding, Jane picked up her beer and made her way to the most secluded booth and began to pick at its label as she waited for her mother.

"I got us some fresh fries and onion rings," Angela smiled as she approached the booth with a steaming plate in both hands.

"Thanks, ma," Jane smiled as she grabbed a fry and popped it into her mouth. "Sorry if I've been ruining all the Christmas spirit lately."

"Nonsense," Angela replied. "But you wanna tell me what's been going on?"

"It's Maura," Jane admitted.

"Did you two get into a fight?"

"Not exactly," the brunette said. "What I'm going to tell you cannot, and I mean cannot under any circumstances, be spoken about to anyone. And I'm dead serious about that, Ma."

"Cross my heart."

"Maura's sick."

"I'm guessing you mean with something a little more serious than a wintertime cold," Angela noted.

"Yeah," Jane said as she picked up a French fry and began to drag it back and forth in a pool of ketchup. "It's something called dysthymic disorder. Basically it's a type of depression that never goes away. She doesn't have good days—just shitty days and less shitty days."

"Oh, my," Angela whispered. She wasn't sure what she expected but hearing Maura had been living with a mental illness wasn't very high on her list. "She is getting help, isn't she?"

"Of course," Jane confirmed. "She's been seeing a psychiatrist and therapist weekly since October. But even with that, she seems like she's retreated even further into her shell than before. I know recovery isn't, like, a straight shot upwards but it's killing me, Ma. She uses a metaphor that it feels like she's been tossed overboard in the middle of the ocean and she's constantly fighting just to keep herself above water. I'm scared she's gonna just give up and let this thing take her."

"Maura's a fighter," Angela offered hopefully. "She has you and—"

"She doesn't want me, Ma," Jane interrupted, angry at herself for the way her voice cracked.

"What kind of nonsense is that? Anyone with half an eyeball could see you and Maura need and love each other."

Jane's dropped her French fry and snapped her head up to look at her mother.

"I meant platonically, but that reaction tells me my baby girl is in love," Angela smiled.

"I'm your only girl," Jane laughed weakly.

"Nice deflection."

"I love her so much, Ma," Jane admitted. "I was at her place last week and we finally, finally admitted that to each other. And then she just…she kicked me out. She said she couldn't be with me until she was better and that I deserved someone who didn't use me to make themselves feel better. And it's been radio silence from her ever since."

"Oh, sweetie," the Rizzoli matriarch soothed as she stood up from her side of the booth and slid into Jane's side. "Can I tell you something?"

Jane nodded as she allowed her mother to wrap an arm around her shoulder.

"I know how she's feeling."

Jane turned to look at her mother, her brows furrowed.

"After you were born, I was diagnosed with post-partum depression. Of course we didn't call it that back then but it definitely was," Angela confessed. "I couldn't eat, shower, do laundry, or hardly get out of bed. Your nona and all the aunts and uncles had to take shifts spending their days with me because apparently I said some really worrying things."

"Ma, I had no idea."

"I don't remember a lot of the details," Angela admitted. "But I remember the feelings I had during those times. I loved you and your father so much but I couldn't be around you for more than an hour or two at a time. I felt like a failure who didn't deserve to hold her beautiful baby girl in her arms until I'd reached whatever arbitrary goal I'd set for myself that day. And when I didn't reach that goal, I would spend all night sobbing into my pillow."

"How did you get better?"

"A heck of a lot of two steps forward, one step backwards action," Angela shrugged. "As soon as I was having a good day, we used that clear headspace to create a game plan for when the next bad day came. And we would keep creating plans until my good days beat out my bad days and I could finally be your mother instead of just a breastfeeding zombie."

"But I don't think Maura has had any good days yet," Jane admitted. "How can I help her make a plan for how to beat the bad days when those are all she has?"

"Patience. I think you were two or three months old before I had a genuinely good afternoon. Recovering from something like this isn't going to start like a race with Maura going from 0 to 100 in a few weeks. She needs time."

"So I just wait?"

"Yes. And while you wait, you show her she's stuck with you. Your father did that—every morning he brought me a cup of coffee and every night he would pick me up a cannoli on his way home from work. If the laundry needed folding, he would sit himself down wherever I happened to be just so we were close. He gave me space and he gave me time, but he also never let me forget that I had him."

Jane sighed as her mother's words sank in. She allowed her head to come to a rest on a comforting shoulder, her mother's advice processing in her mind.

"Its not going to be easy, and it's gonna take a while, but Maura will be just fine. With you on her side, I don't see how she couldn't be."

"She kicked me out, Ma," Jane pointed out. "How can I be on her side when she kicked me out?"

"She's scared," the older woman suggested. "And people do silly things when they're scared. But I think she's come around.

"Huh?"

Jane had meant to look up at her mother but her eyes immediately went to the blonde doctor who was standing in the doorway. She was bundled up in a black trench coat, her hat, scarf, and gloves still on.

The pair locked eyes and Jane immediately ushered her mother out of the booth so she could cross the restaurant to greet her best friend.

"Hi," Maura said softly.

"Hey, yourself," Jane replied. "Did you wanna come sit?"

"No, thank you. I don't have much time."

"Much time until what?"

"I'm taking a leave of absence," Maura stated.

"You're what?" Jane asked.

"I'm not well, Jane," Maura said. "I've done some research and planning and will be away from BPD for the foreseeable future."

"Okay," Jane nodded as she reached out to take one of Maura's hands. "I've got some leave to use before the year ends. I could take some time with you and we could go away somewhere."

"You're too sweet," Maura answered. "But I stand by what I said. I need to get myself better before we explore our romantic connection any further."

"Then we'll spend time together as friends. We can take the train into New York and you can drag me shopping before I buy us dinner from a questionable food cart and we'll stay in a fancy schmancy hotel and stuff our faces on room service desserts."

"That sounds like a perfect plan, but I can't."

Jane's face fell.

"I love you, Maura."

"And I love you, too," the blonde replied.

Before Jane could reply, she felt Maura press a soft kiss to her lips before turning and vanishing from the Dirty Robber.

Despite running out of the Robber only moments after Maura, Jane had been left standing outside on the cold Boston streets, scanning every passer-by for a hint of blonde curls.

"You'll catch a cold if you're out here without your coat," Angela said as she emerged from the pub and handed Jane her jacket.

"She's gone," Jane said. "She just said she was taking a leave of absence, and then just left!"

"She also kissed you," Angela smiled. "And I know those rosy cheeks aren't just from the cold."

Jane lifted a hand up to her lips and traced them gently.

"Go home," Angela instructed. "Go home, warm up, and get some rest. You can't fill from an empty keg and you're gonna wanna make sure you're ready whenever she is."

"Yeah," Jane nodded absent mindedly.

"I love you, Janie," her mother said. "Call me tomorrow and we can maybe do some last minute Christmas shopping. Maybe take TJ to the ice rink with your brothers."

"Of course, Ma. I love you, too."

Still in shock from her best friend's sudden departure as well as her public display of affection, Jane drove in stunned silence back to her apartment. She let herself in and immediately began to busy herself with feeding Jo and storing her work items in their designated areas. She went to her fridge to grab the water filter when she noticed an envelope taped to the front of the fridge. In Maura's elegant script was Jane's name.

Dear Jane,

I know you're probably wondering where I'm going, how long I'll be gone, and what the future of our relationship (both as friends and as more) is. Unfortunately, I don't have the answers to any of those questions.

I love you dearly and it brings me so much joy to know you love me in the same way. But, please, my love. Allow me this space. I promise I will be continuing with my treatment-I meant it when I said I want to be better before our love is made official. You deserve only the best and I look forward to the day I can give you that.

Please wait for me, Jane. I promise I'll come home to you.

All of me,

Maura

Jane held the letter to her chest as she used her free hand to scoop Jo Friday into her arms.

"Looks like it's just you and I again, girl," she told the small dog sadly as she made her way to her bedroom. "Mama Maura needs some time, so we're gonna give it to her. But hopefully it's not too much time."

Jo's response was a small yip and a few licks to Jane's cheek.

Jane deposited the terrier onto the bed before she tiredly began to take her work clothes off and replace them with her pyjamas. She brushed her teeth and threw her hair up into a messy bun before joining Jo in bed.

"Come 'ere, girl," Jane said as she patted the space next to her. Jo Friday obliged and curled up next to her mother. Both Jane and Jo let out a sigh as the detective grabbed her phone from the nightstand and hit her first speed dial.

Hello, you've reached the voicemail of Dr. Maura Isles. I am currently on a sabbatical and will not be monitoring any calls or messages left to this number. If you are calling regarding Boston Police Department matters, please hang up and call Dr. Kent Drake who will assist. Thank you.

Maura's voicemail didn't offer any instruction for those not calling regarding BPD matters.

"Hey, Maur. It's me. I, uh, just got home to see the letter you left me. I know you said you needed time, and you also said you wouldn't be checking your voicemail, but I just had to try. Wherever it is that you are I want you to know I'm rooting for you. I'm your biggest cheerleader and I know you're gonna kick some depression ass."

"I love you, Maura Isles. I'll be right here with bells and whistles and maybe even a clean shirt on whenever you come home" she continued with a chuckle. "Whenever you come home to me."

"Okay, bye."

Hanging her phone up, Jane plugged it into her charger and snuggled under her comforter.

As Jane lay in bed and watched sport reruns on ESPN, miles away Maura picked her own phone up and stared at the notification on the screen.

"We'll be wheels up in just a few minutes," a man said.

"Yes, I'm just turning it off now," Maura replied as she held down the power button and watched the photo of her and Jane that served as her phone wallpaper disappear from sight.

"Can I get you anything before we take off? We have a lovely rosé if you'd like to try that as well as our usual light refreshments."

"No to the wine," Maura replied sadly. Since beginning her treatment she had stopped drinking alcohol, not need any additional depressants in her life. "I should be fine until dinner is served."

"Of course. Dinner tonight is a lemon and herb crusted salmon, prepared and delivered just a few moments ago to ensure freshness."

"That sounds lovely," Maura smiled. "Thank you."

"You're more than welcome, ma'am," the assistant said. "I'll come check on you once we've taken off and reached altitude."

Nodding, Maura turned her head to the window of her family jet. As the plane gained speed as it taxied down the runway, Maura felt her heart begin to race. She wasn't nervous for the take-off or the subsequent flight, but when she felt the plane lurch into the air she couldn't help but grip the armrests until her knuckles turned white.

Outside her window, Maura watched as Boston, covered in a layer of snow and ripe with festive cheer, grew smaller and smaller. She fought back tears as she kept her focus on the city that currently held her heart, held in the hands of one Detective Rizzoli, until the city disappeared into the clouds.