She missed the first handful of pitches. Missed the outs that came from them. Missed the way her Pop began to shift in his chair, the telltale sign he was growing frustrated. Missed it all until a harsh shout pulled her back.

"What are you looking at ump!" Frank yelled at the television before giving a dismissive wave of his hand. He let out a scoff, shaking his head, clearly waiting for Jane to chime in, and when she didn't, he looked over quickly recognizing she had been elsewhere moments before. "You alright, Janie?"

"Hmm," she mumbled, snapping her attention over to him, his question still lingering a moment more before she replied. "Oh, yeah. Fine. Why?"

"You've just been awfully quiet. Given that the strike zone seems to be changing every batter, thought you might be a little more vocal."

She gave a half smile, one that was quick to appear and equally so to vanish. Because normally he'd be right. They'd be hemming and hawing as if the umpire could hear them, sometimes so loud she thought perhaps he could.

But today her heart and mind were elsewhere. On one person in specific. Maura.

"Guess I just have a lot on my mind is all."

"You know you can talk to me about it if you want."

She smiled back. This time with one that was warm and full. It was moments like these she never took for granted. His understanding of when to push or pry and when to simply lend an open ear.

"I know, Pop. Thanks." She stood from her seat and motioned to the table near his own chair. "Need anything?"

He glanced over to the table and grimaced. A small plate of veggies sat where there was normally a bowl of chips or heavily salted pretzels, one of the changes Jane had insisted upon after he got out of the hospital, he looked back and gave an hard shake of his head.

"I'm good."

She shook her head and gave a playful roll of her eyes at his dramatics before leaving for the kitchen. The stroll down the hall was the same as any before. She passed by photos and the wall that served as a height chart and the built-in shelves stuffed beyond their limits with books and trinkets and memories. She loved that he still lived in their childhood home. It held more than any of them could remember. A time capsule that held treasured memories, both vivid and long forgotten. She stopped in her tracks. The idea of forgotten treasures had her changing course, away from the kitchen and up to the attic. Again, allowing her mind to wander to Maura and hoping she could find one thing in particular.

It was dim and dusty and immediately she wondered if she had temporarily lost her mind. There was no way she was going to find what she was looking for, but after a moment of internally arguing with herself, she gave it a shot. There was no rhyme or reason to her searching. Just a haphazard line of pushing boxes around, opening those that looked like maybe they could be something. But after a while, lost in a space where there seemed to be no sense of time, the doubts began to surface again.

She ran her fingers through her hair in mild frustration and let out a sigh. One that must have been louder and traveled further than she realized, as Frank yelled up the wooden ladder a moment later.

"Janie? Need help finding something?"

"No, Pop. I'm fine," she replied, looking across the entire room one last time. "Probably a lost cause anyway."

There was a half-second pause before he yelled back. "Try the bookcase by the vent. Second shelf from the top."

Her eyes darted to the spot he mentioned, immediately spotting the box. Worn edges. Peeling tape and torn corners. Marker crossed out a number of times to relabel the updated contents. And though it was hardly remarkable, somehow she knew it held exactly what she had been searching for.

The dust was thick across the top, making her extremely careful as she began to pry open the flaps. Inside were old school papers and awards. Small action figures and patches she had meant to put on her jean jacket in middle school. Every item holding a memory that had become so buried but was now so clear.

She made it through most of the box before her fingers found it. A piece of paper, torn from whatever stationary she had begged her parents for back then. In pencil, scrawled across light lines, read the words she though so hard about. That she had tried to make perfect and special. Promises that hadn't come to mind in decades.

Her forgotten vows.

21 years before

Jane sat along the edge of their front porch, legs swinging as they dangled just above her Ma's flowerbed. She watched intently as Frank replaced a couple of boards that had started to rot, in addition to the one she, Frankie, and Tommy had busted with their roughhousing the week before. His movements were quick and precise – pulling, aligning, hammering. Jane soaked it all up, just in case she ever needed to do this herself. If ever in the future she and Maura shared a home.

The idea caused her focus to shift. Away from the comfort of wood and nails and towards the much more intimidating world of words. Vows to be exact. Maura had suggested the try to write their own, and Jane had whole heartedly agreed, but now she wasn't so sure it had been a great idea. The uncertainty of what she should write was powerful and looming, leaving her with nothing when she was certain there were too many things to say to Maura.

Frank stopped for a moment, leaning back from his kneeled position to rest on his heels. And as he went to wipe at his brow, Jane caught the glimmer of his wedding band. She had been told stories of her parent's wedding. Some funny, some romantic, some she probably shouldn't have been told. But through all of them, she understood how lovely it had been. How it was something to strive for.

And maybe he was the perfect person to ask for advice on the block she just couldn't get around.

"Pop?"

"Yeah," he said, already hunched back over, poised to pick up right where he left off.

"What did you say to Ma at your wedding?"

He set the hammer down and slowly looked over, the extra time just enough for him to make sure he had heard correctly. "Our wedding?"

Jane nodded back. Her eyes wide with the hope that he would be able to help. He always had before. And because of that wishing, she missed the barely-there glint of understanding. The soft delight that came with knowing where she was going because of what Maura had let slip a week prior. He patted the step in between them both and they each moved until they were seated side by side.

"Well, we decided to write our own vows at the ceremony."

"What would have happened if you didn't write any?" she cut in.

"I suppose we would have just recited the traditional ones," he replied. "But I'm glad we decided against that option."

"Why?"

Frank chuckled as memories he hadn't thought of in a long while mixed with the amusement at Jane's curiosity.

"It was your Ma's idea. She wanted us to make those promises to one another with words and moments that were personal. And even though it took a while for me to figure out what I wanted to say, it was worth it because they were so special to the both of us."

"What did you write?"

"Well, I told her how her laugh was my most favorite sound in the world and promised to try my best to make it heard every day. And I said that she was my best friend and I would never take that for granted. And that the thing I looked most forward to was getting to spend my life with her and share a family together."

Jane sat quiet for a few seconds, her head falling to look at her lap, processing all he just said. Letting the magic within his words fill her like they had him all those years before. It was all she wanted within her own vows. And upon the realization her face once again fell to a small frown. Because she still wasn't sure how she was supposed to do that. She looked back up with uncertain eyes.

"How… how did you know those were the right things to say?"

"That's a hard question to answer." He let out a little sigh. "All I can really say is that they just felt right."

He watched as Jane's face fell a little, dropping into a mix of confusion and defeat. His own eyes softened even further, into a gentleness only she could pull from him.

"How about I tell you what I did when I wrote those vows? What I still do when I write your Ma anything, hmm?"

Her eyes lit up before he could blink, quick and eager, matching the way her head nodded back to him. She scooted a little closer without realizing, waiting on his next words like they held the secrets to the universe.

"Close your eyes." She watched as he closed his own before snapping her shut. "Now, clear your mind of everything for a few breaths. Just focus on breathing in and out." They both did exactly that, thinking of nothing else for a few moments. "Okay, is it clear?"

Jane nodded. "Mmhmm."

"Alright. Now think about one thing you love about the person. I could be anything, but just choose one, and let the feelings you get from thinking about that fill your entire chest."

Having opened his own eyes, he watched as her smile grew wide and bright. Her eyes dancing to memories he could only guess at. Things he was certain were only shared between Jane and Maura.

"That feeling, hold onto it," he said, low and warm, drawing Jane's eyes back open. He tapped his fingers at his own chest. "Keep it tucked right here. And when you're trying to figure out what to write, remember it. Let if fill you up again and see if the words you came up with do the same. If they don't, think of something else. But if they do, that's how you know they're right."

Jane nodded back, silent and awestruck at his words, only then realizing her own hand had drifted to atop her heart. A sudden blush scorched over her cheeks, followed quickly behind by a trail of uncharacteristic bashfulness.

"I'm writing something for Maura."

"I had a feeling," he replied with a quick wink.

And just that little gesture was enough to soothe her in a way she didn't know she needed. Like an approval or confirmation, she wasn't sure. Perhaps just a moment of complete understanding between them like they never shared before. And her heart swelled, filling her chest with a different feeling, one so unlike what she felt when thinking of Maura minutes earlier, the realization enough to bring her back to why she asked about everything in the first place.

"I'm going to go upstairs to start." She scrambled up from her seat, dusting off her backside. "Thanks, Pop."

She made it a few feet before Frank called out over his shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

"Hey, Janie," she turned, practically split in two by her eagerness to start writing and eagerness to hear what more he had to say. "She's going to like whatever it is you want to say."

She smiled back, giving a quick nod before dashing out of site. Her feet moved faster than they ever moved before as she sprinted up the stairs, not stopping until she was seated in the middle of her room, paper and pencil in hand. Slowly she got her heart to settle and breath to even. Not simple tasks with the excitement coursing through her.

But finally she felt still, letting her eyes fall. She repeated what her Pop had told her on the porch, the unique, but now familiar, buzz filling her chest like it had minutes earlier. She let it stay there for a long while, the feeling of goodness like nothing she had experience before.

Eventually, her eyes slowly blinked back open and she began to write. She wrote everything that came to mind, flooding the paper with memories and promises, filling up the entire sheet. And when she finally felt as though there was no more, she set down her pencil and began to read them all, pausing after each one, waiting to see if her chest would fill with that feeling like her Pop said it would if the words were right. Slowly she began to cross things off, until finally she had them. The words that made her feel like she was soaring. That she couldn't wait to get to read to Maura. Vows that she promised herself she would always keep.

Maura,

I love that you are the smartest person I know. You always know the most interesting things and have facts for everything. Like when you told me what causes hiccups or explained how windshield wipers were invented. And I promise to always listen to every fact you tell me and do my best to remember them. And I hope you get to tell me a lot.

I love that you are my best friend and that we can just be ourselves when we are with each other. I love that we can share secrets and our dreams because we know each other so well. There isn't anyone else I would want to be best friends with. And I promise that even when we are old, we will still be best friends and no matter what you can always be the person you are with me.

I love that you are magic. My parents told me it was rare to find someone who has magic in them, but you do. I can see it whenever you laugh or get really into a book. It's in the fort we built together. But mostly it's just wherever you are. And I promise to do my best to always make sure that your magic is shining for our entire lives.

(There are lots more things I love about you too, but I had to pick only a few or our wedding would be really long.)

Love, Jane

Her coffee had long been cold before she realized too late, her face scrunching in surprise as the liquid hit her lips. There was too much on her mind to stay present long enough to finish a single cup. The wedding. Garrett. Her mother.

Her mother.

She let out a heavy, burdened sigh as snippets of their conversation the night before raced to mind. How even more wedding details had turned into her mother's realization that everything was aligning socially so that the first event she and Garrett would attend together as husband and wife would be her New York gallery opening. How their entire talk was a mix of dueling reactions. Her mother's thrill and excitement versus her uncertainty and dread.

She dropped her head, only to look straight into the other issue that had begun to nag at her unrelentingly. Her vows to Garrett. Because while she hadn't expected it to be easy, she didn't think they would be this difficult to write. Her words felt so impersonal for someone she was marrying. A quick scan over the draft further solidified that idea. If anyone else were to read it, it could have easily been mistaken as a description for furniture.

Steady. Solid. Dependable. Tasteful.

She pushed the notepad away and let her head fall into her hands, letting her eyes sink into her palms as if somehow that would allow her to see things more clearly. To find words for him like she had for Jane so long before.

With a deep breath in, she sat back up with thoughts of Jane, but the mix of old and new memories were quickly overshadowed by the folder she knew sat underneath the pile of papers she had just pushed away. The divorce papers she had still yet to show Jane. Her reasoning why she hadn't, clear as day, but her decision as to what to do next was becoming more confusing with every passing minute. Her muddled thoughts came to a quick stop at an unexpected greeting.

"Morning, Miss Isles."

She jumped. A sharp breath catching in her throat. Heart pounding harder for a couple of beats.

"Vince?" She glanced at the clock and then back to him. "You're here awfully early."

He gave a nod. "Wanted to get a jump on the day. Thought maybe I could leave a bit early. There's a lovely Shepherd at the shelter I'd love to see before the day's end."

She smiled with a warmth that reached to her eyes. "Of course. Here, let me get you a cup of coffee."

"No, no," he said quickly, stopping her from getting up. "You keep where you are. Looked like you were deep in thoughts over wedding details."

She gave a half-grimaced smile. The grimace for how wrong he was. The smile to show how much she appreciated his unwavering kindness. The same he had shown her as a child. The same he showed when he agreed to stay on as head of staff after Maura took over the estate from her mother. It was always the same and she was forever grateful. But that smile was quick to fall into a frown, and she slowly shook her head.

"Not quite."

She rifled through the pile until she came to the very bottom. Her hand rested on top of it for a few moments before she pushed to folder towards him. He flipped it open, eyes only scanning over the title before he looked back up with a scrunched brow. She could see his obvious confusion, but under that she thought she saw a flicker of hope and relief.

"Divorce papers? Seems a little early for these."

She let out a dry laugh before shaking her head. "Those aren't for me and Garrett. Look closer."

He dropped his head and scanned it over again, snapping his eyes back up a moment later.

"Jane Rizzoli? Little, mischievous Jane from way back when?"

"The very one," she answered.

He looked back down at the file and she understood. She recognized the bouncing eyes and subtle headshakes of disbelief. The search for answers where there were none. And after a few more moments of silent questioning, just like her, his head rose with a furrowed brow and utter confusion.

"I don't understand."

Maura set her hand light atop his forearm. "How about I get you that cup of coffee?"

"That might be best," he replied with suddenly wary eyes.

They worked through two steaming cups of coffee as Maura told him everything. They drank through cup one with mentions of the marriage license application snafu that brought everything about and explanations of those divorce papers were the solution to it all. Cup two brought stories of all the moments with Jane afterwards. The workshop and charity baseball game and broken sink. And once they both had only puddles left at the bottom of their mugs, Maura was certain she had spilled it all.

Vince gave a couple of nods as she finished. Because while he had heard all she said aloud, he had also heard everything she said in the unspoken. The hints and hopes that encircled the stories of Jane and Maura together. And right alongside that, all the uncertainty of what to do.

He tapped at one of the lines along the bottom of the document. "There aren't any signatures."

She gave a sheepish nod, gaze falling to where his finger lay. "I know, I just haven't figured out how to tell her everything."

"I'm not just talking about Jane's."

Maura looked back up, her eyes wide, holding a lostness he hadn't seen since she was young. And even though it had been a long time, his heart ached now like it did back then.

"I don't know what to do, Vince."

He smiled, soft and warm, trying to be as reassuring as possible. "I may not be the best person to be giving advice in this area, given I've been married four times and divorced just as many, but the best thing I can tell you is to follow your heart. It matters a whole hell of a lot more than anything else."

"It's not that easy."

His eyes flickered with understanding. The external pressures he had watched her be under as a child had only grown even greater as she got older. Pressures from her mother and their circle within society and the Isles Foundation. All of them expecting something from her. A perfection that no one could uphold.

He gathered himself to reply, the words hanging on his tongue, until they were swallowed back. Whether they were of wisdom or encouragement or something else completely, she would never know. A booming shout echoed through the halls, disrupting everything it could bounce off of.

"Maura?" Harsh, hurried footsteps got closer, warning them both of the impatience howling within. Garrett boomed again, louder than necessary as he turned into the kitchen. "Maura? There you are. Have you seen the keys to the Mercedes?"

"Umm, no. I haven't," she managed, shocked by the stark transition from heartfelt conversation to what felt like an interrogation. "Why?"

"Because apparently no one knows how to fill a gas tank when asked, so I can't drive the Bentley. If I miss my tee time because of this, I swear." He pushed some papers around on the counter, doing nothing but making more of a mess.

She stood and took a step forward, initially going to try and calm him down, but immediately recognizing it was probably of no use. He was too tightly wound. Instead, she offered her own car. "You can take the Prius if you want. The keys are right there."

He froze at the suggestion, as if trying to figure out if it was serious or a joke, before scoffing. "I can't show up at the country club in a Prius. I'll never hear the end of it."

The room fell silent as he continued to stare at her, as if waiting for a better more helpful suggestion, or that she would magically recall where the keys just happened to be, but when neither Maura or Vince said anything more, he stalked off with a deep, frustrated sigh.

Maura watched until he disappeared from sight, turning back to find Vince's concerned gaze upon her. The same concern he showed when she agreed with her parents to go to boarding school at 14. The same concern he showed when she agreed to step away from medicine to run the Isles Foundation for her mother. The same concern he always showed when it came to her best interests.

He gave a sad smile, glancing quickly to the divorce papers and then back up, before setting a warm hand over hers and giving a gentle squeeze.

"I know it's complicated, but it's also easier than you may think."

The words settled between them for a few breaths, growing until it engulfed her completely, so lost in the simplicity and weight of them, she missed Vince's exit. Because he was right. Her whole life could practically be summed up by that statement. How complicated all her responsibilities and expectations were but how easy it should be to rid herself of them and do what she wanted. But once again she circled back to the fact that it wasn't that way.

And as much as she had hoped for answers, and maybe Vince did help her to find some, she wasn't sure she could actually act on them. She couldn't simply declare that her love for Jane had never died. That she firmly believed they were always meant to be. How she wished she could kiss her, today and every day after, for the rest of their lives. So instead she sat back down and wrote. New vows that said it all. Vows that would never be read or said. And unlike the one's from her childhood, promises that would never be forgotten.