A/N: This flashback occurs about a year after the previous one. In it, Frankie is 32, Jane and Maura are 35, Cristina is 6, and Franciscu is 3.
The doorbell rings in Jane's new Salem Street home, the one that will be their permanent residence if she has anything to say about it. She is tired of moving, and she thinks this place is perfect. The walkup is in the heart of their neighborhood, but not on Prince Street proper, and the reduction in foot traffic really gives her peace of mind. She puts her hand towel on the island and leaves Maura to the task of finishing up dinner.
She ambles through the kitchen, down the hall into the foyer, and opens the door. Frankie stands on the other side. "Hey, Frankie," Jane says, confused but not annoyed, and steps aside for him. "C'mon in. Dinner won't be ready for another twenty minutes."
He stands, rooted to his spot, and half-smiles at her. He has a six pack of Blue Moon in his hand. "Hey, Janie. Can we talk?"
She looks at him, trying to guess his problems from the way his skin is flushed, or the way his eyebrows knit together in the middle to form that ridge. "Yeah, sure, bud. We'll go up to Maura's office."
He steps past her and takes the stairs, not waiting for her to lead the way. They've had many conversations in Maura's office recently, the one full of literature, medical textbooks, and exotic knick knacks. They like to sit in the two chairs in front of the fireplace, the ones Maura originally meant for her and Jane to share.
They step softly through the hall upstairs, and Frankie opens the closed door of the room he's looking for. Jane follows closely behind and shuts it as soon as they're both in. "Let's sit, huh?" she says, and he does.
She sits in the chair next to him, and he places the beers between them on the table. He's brought twist-caps, luckily. "Here," he hands her an open one.
She takes it and drinks. "What's goin' on? Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"
"Teresa's pregnant," he spits out.
Jane chokes on her beer, with some running down her chin. "What?!"
"Would you keep your voice down?!" Frankie whispers harshly. "No one else knows yet. She just told me."
Jane's first reaction is disappointment that she is now strapped to Teresa in one form or another for the rest of their lives, but she squashes that down so that she can be a good catholic sister who is happy for her brother. "Hey, hey, that's great. This is great! Congratulations, Frankie. You're gonna be a great dad."
He breathes a little easier. Just a little. "Thanks, Jane. Guess I'm pullin' up the rear when it comes to grandkids, huh?"
Jane waves off him and his shaky voice. "Ma's got three already. By the time your baby comes, she's gonna have all the practice she needs."
They hear a pot clatter downstairs and the laughter of Cicciu following close behind it. Frankie smirks, but it looks far off, as if he's dreaming about something. "Yeah, I guess that's true."
Jane leans in closer so she can really study him. "What's goin' on in that head of yours, huh? What're ya thinkin' right now?"
He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. "I dunno."
"What do ya mean ya don't know? Are ya happy? Nervous? Petrified?" Jane interrogates him.
"All of that!" Frankie says with a bark of laughter. "Jesus. I'm all of it. All the feelings. How did you do it?"
"Well, the way we conceived was a little bit different than you. I had to get shot full of hormones for weeks, and then go under so they could get my eggs out. I think I was a little more eyes-wide-open about the whole thing," explains Jane. "Cristina was very intentional. I mean, so was Franciscu, but with him, Maura already had the rest on ice. I think she wanted it that way, actually; she wanted to be able to surprise me one time. But when I found out they were comin'? I was so happy . I was dyin' to meet 'em, soon as she told me."
Frankie shakes his head. "Not that. That's the easy part. I'm happy to meet this kid, too. Ecstatic, even. And I'm happy that I can do my small part in carryin' on the Rizzoli name, you know? We've already got Tina, and Cicciu, and now TJ, but I like feelin' like I get to contribute."
"Then what part's got you so spooked?" Jane asks.
"Teresa," he says.
"She's not happy?"
"Oh no, she's over the moon. She's always wanted kids, and she told me that her clock's tickin' 'cause she's thirty. So, I'm happy for her, too. It's just…"
"It's just?"
"Well, you all don't exactly like her, Janie."
"She left you with a car note, Frankie. And cheated on you with three of Carlo's guys. So far."
Frankie holds his hands up. "I know, I know. And that's… behind us. But it's in the back of my mind, too. I know you guys don't think highly of her, and she's not your biggest fan, either-"
"What's there not to be a fan of, huh? That I stick up for you when she treats you like shit?" Jane raises her voice, and her ass out of her chair.
Frankie presses her arm back down. "Would you give it a rest? We're talkin' about me right now, not the shit between you two."
"Ok ok," Jane backs down. "So you're feelin' conflicted because she's hurt you in the past?"
"Kinda," Frankie says. "I mean, I wonder if I should do the right thing by her and marry her. We're both not gettin' any younger. I'm thirty-two and Ma's been on my back about settlin' down for years now."
"You let Ma talk her shit, Frankie," says Jane, thirty-five and with a lifetime of experience in spurning Angela's guilt-trips. "Don't let her pressure you into anything you're not ready to do."
"I won't. And I don't know if I am ready, you know? To make that decision to be tied to Teresa for life."
"Well… I hate to break it to you, but if that's your concern, you already did that when you got her pregnant. You two'll be in each other's lives forever whether you wanna be or not," Jane replies.
"You know what I mean. I really love Teresa. Despite all the shit she's done, I do. And I'm not blameless, I know. I've been an asshole to her sometimes, too. Unavailable, moody, tied up at work all the time," Frankie explains. "But I just… I don't want the spark to die. It's still there now, and what if, when we get married, the fire goes out? Or we have a kid and we just don't look at each other the same way anymore?"
Jane downs the last of her first beer and then opens another one. Frankie opens his hand, and she gives him one, too. "You won't."
"Won't what?" He asks.
"You won't look at each other the same way anymore. It's just different. But if you're lucky, it's not bad. Like, how I see Maura now is so different than how I saw her when we were just rollin' around in bed in Sicily."
"How?" Frankie presses, in need of reassurance. "You said you loved her back then."
"Oh, I did. You know, she and I had a lot of fun. She was sweet, and beautiful, and smart, and yeah, the spark was there. The things she could do with her-"
"A'right a'right!" Frankie plugs one ear and glares at his sister.
She smirks at his discomfort. "Anyway. When I came back, she was gone, and I thought I'd never see her again. So when she found me, and we picked back up where we left off, things were different, then, too. It was hot and heavy and I was possessive as fuck, because I was terrified she was gonna leave. I saw her as the best thing to ever happen to me. But now? After Cristina and Ciccinu? I look at her as the mother of my children. And there's somethin' so real, so… familiar and almost, like, primal about it, yeah? When I married her, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, and when the kids came, I felt like it was my right to. Like we earned each other."
Frankie hangs his head. "I do not feel that."
"Listen, Frankie, you don't have to. My point wasn't that you should feel the same as me, but that you will feel different about Teresa than you do now, and that's normal. Not everyone has what Maura and I have, because that's just for us. And that's what changed, at least for me. There is no one on this entire planet, not even Ma, that I am more intimate with than my wife. Yeah, sexually, but I also mean in every other kinda way. Maura knows all the ins and outs. She knows everything. And in our line of work, that's somethin' you gotta have. Is Teresa that for you?"
"She gets it, at least," Frankie says. "She doesn't know everything, but she understands what we do. She does it, too."
"You know what I'm talkin' about. It's more than just understanding. It's knowing. You wanna know if the spark is gonna die? I can't answer that for you, but for me, I don't even wanna look at anyone else. When I'm out there," she pauses, points her thumb toward the window on the wall behind them, behind Maura's desk, "all I wanna do is get back here, and get back on top of her, or under her, or however she wants to do it. Because her knowin' me better than anyone else is the hottest thing. And I'm not sayin' that Teresa has to be that for you, but it certainly helps."
"I… I was a little afraid that you were gonna say somethin' like that," Frankie says, slumping into his chair. He takes a sloppy sip of his beer.
"Say what?" Jane asks in return. She wishes there were a fire in front of them so that she'd have something to stare at besides her feet.
"All that stuff you're sayin' about Maura," he elaborates. "I can't say that about Teresa. And I know you said that everyone's different, and that not everyone has what you have, but I don't have it... Not just because I don't feel it. Which, I don't, by the way, not the way you do."
"Well, she's in your inner circle now, Frankie, for life. But you don't have to marry her if you don't want to. You don't have to do anything but take care of this kid." Jane pats his arm.
"I just… I just don't trust her, Janie. Or the knuckleheads around her. I love her but I just don't trust any of 'em."
Friday morning starts in a fever.
Just as the sun rises and filters light into the bedroom, Jane wakes to moisture on her lips. A ring of it circles her mouth, and when her eyes open, she sees Maura's finger retreating slowly, still wet, all the way back between her legs. Jane, disoriented with sleep, is still until she hears it: the heavy smack of flesh that sounds like a kiss and that means Maura is touching herself. Has been for at least a few minutes.
Jane bolts up and licks her lips to receive the gift that Maura has just given her. "That from you?" she asks desperately, pushing covers away. Sure enough, just before she climbs over Maura, she sees Maura's nightgown pulled above her waist, with nothing underneath it.
Maura's two fingers continue to swirl slowly one, two, three more times, before she places one just past Jane's parted lips. She smiles when Jane's eyes roll back and shut; she moans when Jane sucks. "Taste and tell me," Maura husks.
Jane says nothing. She releases Maura's index finger and plunges her tongue into Maura's mouth instead. Instantly, arms are around her, legs are spreading for her. Heat radiates against her where her sleep shirt has ridden up and her belly is exposed.
Maura shoves Jane's shorts down just under her ass because she can't push any lower, so she changes course and reaches for her own clothes, hoping her nakedness will spur Jane into the same. She pulls her silk nightgown towards her head, but struggles, because she doesn't want to give up their kisses.
Jane makes the decision for her, however, when she raises her torso up to accommodate the motion and Maura tosses her nightgown aside. "We're gettin' naked?" Jane asks, snapping her head to the alarm clock on Maura's nightstand. "Like all the way naked? Are we havin' a session?"
Maura laughs at Jane's giddiness, combined with her bedhead and her hoarseness. Once she is naked, having had only the one article to remove, she holds Jane's face in her hands and rubs her eyes softly. "Your brother is taking your children to school," she says.
Jane is already peeling clothes off and tossing them about from under the covers. "He is? Oh god, you're right, he is," she groans happily. She stretches her long torso awkwardly across Maura to reach the nightstand drawer.
Maura braces Jane with hands to her sides, helping her keep her balance. "You don't have to rush; they'll be gone soon," she teases.
"I'm not in a hurry because I wanna finish, I'm in a hurry because I wanna start," Jane comes back, this time with their favorite toy and harness, and fits herself with both, sighing with how easily the curved end enters into her after just a few moments of excitement. She pushes up on her hands, and looks back toward the table, about to reach for the lubricant she forgot in her haste.
Maura strokes Jane's forearm that is hard and straight, and reaches between her own legs to part herself, showing that she's ready without the extra help. She takes a little bit on her fingertips again, and this time streaks it all the way down the purple silicone that hangs heavy between Jane's legs.
Jane rakes her lower lip with her teeth, watching Maura prepare, then looking Maura in the eye. "N'anticchia di meli," she says softly. A little bit of honey. She smiles when the hand that was just between them now cradles the left side of her face. Its thumb runs over the bow of her upper lip. Time stops, and they savor their closeness.
"Mmhmm," Maura nods. " Cumincia, amuri, " she orders. Begin, my love.
Jane doesn't waste time. She lowers herself into the embrace waiting for her, and the slippery friction, the paradox of it, puts her on the precipice already. " Fuck ," she moans, sinful and indulgent when she slides in.
Maura encourages slow thrusts by pulling her legs up and moving her hips in time. "I know you don't like… to wake up early," she grunts when Jane hits particularly deep, "but I thought we should take… advantage of the time alone."
Jane picks a long and strong stroke, pulling almost all the way out before going in again. She buries one hand in Maura's hair and grasps the pillow in the other, using it for leverage. "For this? Wake me up any time," Jane whines. She places suckling, open-mouthed kisses all along Maura's neck, sometimes missing on a cheek, or shoulder, or an ear because of how they move together. Maura presses her head back to accept all of it. "You look so pretty takin' this," says Jane - she's talking about Maura's long throat, her arched back, and her spread knees, all creating a visual overload. Soon, despite the morning chill, they are sweating together, fucking faster, moaning louder.
They don't hope that the children have already made their way out the door because the thought doesn't even enter their minds.
In fact, the only thing on Jane's mind is trying not to come, because Maura flips them and keeps the rhythm, but now she's riding and holding Jane's arms above her head. "I can't let you have all the fun," Maura quips.
Jane is listening, she is - it's just, she can't pull her eyes from those perfect bouncing breasts so close to her face. "Uh huh," she replies. "But you can't hold it against me if I, oh , if I don't last."
"That's the plan, my love," says Maura, picking up the pace. Now they are frantic, and she reaches behind them to find Jane's wetness, arching backwards so that she can rub tight circles.
"Jesus, baby," Jane whimpers, and she sees lightning behind her eyelids. Maura balances by splaying her fingers on Jane's belly, concentrates until Jane grits her teeth, winds until Jane cries out into their room in release.
"Come find me," Maura coos when Jane finally opens her eyes.
Jane rises slowly into a sitting position, bucking her hips and placing her hands on Maura's spine, kneading as she goes. "I got you," she replies, voice tired and strained. She uses her position to lay Maura down again, taking her place on top. "Lemme take care of you."
Maura does allow it. She hooks her arms under Jane's and weaves her fingers in wild black hair, and Jane is so close that Maura can smell her. Smell them. She drags Jane's bottom lip between her teeth and gives herself over to their tempo. It rocks her, sends her on an upswing until it crescendos, until she drops suddenly and without warning. She holds onto Jane until her orgasm passes, grateful for the covers around them when her temperature drops and her adrenaline subsides.
Jane stays inside, panting puffs of air into Maura's mouth, catching her breath. "God that was a nice way to spend the mornin'," she exclaims. Maura peppers her forehead with kisses.
"Did you get enough, hmm? To start your day?" Maura asks. She squeals when Jane squeezes her tight.
"For now," says Jane. "You gonna let me set up a lunch appointment?"
Maura laughs. "I think I can get away, yes."
"Good," says Jane. Her phone rings against her nightstand, and then she rolls onto her back and groans. "That is not good."
Maura flops onto her side. "Please don't answer that," she warns, pulling Jane's arm back toward the middle of the bed.
Jane already has her phone in her hand, though. "It's Frankie. I gotta," she replies. "Hey brother. Kids get off ok? Wait, at The Waterfront? Again? Ok, yeah. I got time to get my coffee first? A'right, see you then," she hangs up the phone and lays down again. She rubs her hands over her face and then smacks her arms back down on the mattress. "He got a call from Danny, I guess. Dorfman's holdin' things up again at the site; I gotta take care of it."
"Ok, let me go with you," Maura says. "Let's spend the morning together. We can go to that coffee shop you like on East Broadway."
Jane shakes her head and starts to get up out of bed, leaning over to kiss Maura one last time. "I gotta shower and get outta here. I was just gonna pick up somethin' quick at Milano on the way. But hold that lunch session for me, ok? I'm serious."
"Are you sure? Spend a little more time with me, before you have to go out into the world," Maura follows the feeling inside of her that insists on staying with Jane, but she also doesn't push.
"I'm sure," says Jane.
"Ok, be safe." Maura buries the unease it gives her, and gets up, finding the clothes she'll be doing yoga in to start her day.
Jane, freshly showered and in her work attire - today's ensemble a pinstripe shirt with gray slacks - parks about a block away from Milano, her favorite Friday spot. She comes for a large hot coffee every week, and if she's lucky, the person behind the counter will already have it ready for her.
She jumps out of the Range Rover, in a good mood despite the fact that she might have to break Dorfman's other kneecap, and engages the alarm. She keeps her sunglasses on because the sun is bright despite the cold weather, and their black lenses match the black trench coat that she shrugs on.
She walks out into the street and crosses when she notices Nina parked not too far away. She remembers exactly where, and then pops into the corner liquor store. The door rings, alerting the attendant to her arrival, and she waves at him. He's a young kid, nearly Cristina's age and just out of high school, already helping his parents out at the shop. She shudders for him, thinks of the shit he's already seen at nineteen, all because there are no rules when it comes to liquor stores. "Hey Rafa," she says to him, and then makes her way to the back wall, where all the newspapers are housed. She wants the Globe specifically for the box scores so that she can go over them with her son when he gets home from school that afternoon. She grabs one, walks up to the counter, and throws in a pack of cinnamon gum - her vice of choice after giving up smoking all those years ago.
"Hey, Jane," Rafa says to her, smiling and scanning her items. "Big win for Chicago last night, huh?"
"Oh yeah," she says. She sees movement out of the corner of her eye in the front windows, like somebody running past, and makes a note of that, too. "My kid was over the moon. Big Tim Anderson fan."
"Who isn't?" Rafa replies. "3.89."
She hands him a ten. "Keep the change," she tells him. "Hey Rafa, mind if I go out your side door?"
She doesn't elaborate, and he doesn't ask her to. "Sure thing, Jane."
"Thanks." She puts the gum in her pocket, to be enjoyed after her coffee, and tucks the newspaper under her arm. "See ya around."
He waves and then goes back to his phone.
The side door spits her out close to her car. She unlocks the Range and tosses the paper on the front seat, before locking it again and waving her arms out at Nina. "Hey! It's not Rizzoli-watch today, is it?"
Nina jumps at the sound of Jane's voice, but then relaxes into a smile. "Not here for you, Jane. Here for Milano. I don't know if you know this, but it's a confirmed hangout for people connected to organized crime in the city."
"I did not know that," Jane says with a smirk. "It's a shame, because they got the best cappuccini. Tell you what; I'm goin' in anyway. Want anything?"
A car door slams about a hundred yards away from them, loud enough to be heard over the morning hustle and bustle, and they both look, but see nothing. "No thanks, Rizzoli," Nina says.
Jane realizes it's actually quieter than normal on a weekday morning as she trots back over to the westbound side of the street to Milano's storefront. There are maybe three other customers besides her, and the kid normally behind the counter on Fridays is nowhere to be seen. It's the owner's cousin today, whom Jane knows well from her time in Italy. He has her order ready for her just the same, so she isn't too disappointed, and she hands him a bill.
He gives her her change without much talking, which Jane prefers, and she stuffs it in her pocket. She checks her watch, mindful of the time that Frankie called her and that she needs to be at The Waterfront by nine, so she thanks him and walks out the door. Nina is still there, but so is a new car, parked right across from the storefront.
Jane spots the ski mask and the outstretched arm with a .38 special at the end of it too late.
A hit, a loud and booming bullet, blows her shoulder back, and Jane's coffee splatters to the ground, the backsplash burning her right arm, the one that isn't wounded.
"Shit!" She enters hyperfocus when two more bullets ricochet on the ground below her. She drops, but then picks herself up and scrambles. She can see the Range, just has to get to it.
One shot.
Two shot.
Seven more shots.