"This where your mother lives?" Jane barked at Lydia, who was in the backseat of her unmarked. They pulled up to a dilapidated duplex in South Boston just as a disheveled woman in a robe and pajamas, at 5:45 PM, stumbled down the front steps.

"Yeah," Lydia answered.

"Great. Let's get your stuff out of the car," Jane tossed her sunglasses into the center console and exited the cab with a voracious door slam. Maura followed her quietly from the passenger side, and Lydia was the last to leave.

"I'm sorry if I caused any trouble, Jane," she said, standing at the trunk of the car.

"If you caused any trouble?" said Jane, facing Lydia fully now, shoulders forward and firearm fully exposed.

"I had no idea how roomy this cargo area is, did you, Jane?" Maura yanked Jane's hand, hard, but the taller woman's feet did not budge. Sometimes she forgot just how strong Jane was.

"Yeah, the backseat's really comfortable, too," Lydia, anxious to smooth over the last hour or so, latched on to Maura's redirection.

"Don't, Maura," Jane ordered behind gritted teeth. She pointed to Lydia. "You gave me your word, Lydia. And despite all the recent shit with my father, that means somethin' in this family. You wanna be a part of it? Then start actin' like you give a fuck about us." Lydia's silent tears started again, and Jane sighed. "So, uh, where the hell you want all these gifts?" she asked as she popped her trunk.

Lydia just shrugged, and Maura put a hand on her arm. "Do you have the baby's room set up?"

"Lydia? Is that you?" The woman on the porch asked, squinting.

"Yeah, hi, Mom," Lydia replied, wiping her eyes, putting on a fake smile.

"What are you doin' here? I rented out your room." The woman ran a hand through her short, dyed blonde hair.

"Can I have it back?"

"You're gonna have to share it with Jed," the woman said finally, turning around to go back into the house.

"Ok," Lydia called after her, "who's Jed?"

"No wonder she preferred my mother," Jane snarked to Maura. She grabbed an array of bags and toys and set them off to the side of the driveway.

"Oh, Jane," Maura whined, heart broken. She put her hand on Jane's forearm and looked up at her with sad eyes.

"Oh what, Maura? Huh? What're you gonna do? You gonna go share your room with Lydia and Jed? Dump on my mother some more?" She interrogated, finger now pointed squarely at Maura, who continued to pout. "No. Lydia's made her grown up choices. And I gotta go. Frost and Korsak are talking to a suspect and I need to be there." She started to throw all the baby items to the ground.

"Ok, ok, stop throwing it! I got it, I got it," Maura hurried after Jane's tossing arms, stopping them and then placing the rest of Lydia's many gifts on the ground.

She barely was able to settle back into her seat when Jane revved the engine and peeled back out onto the street.


Shane's deadbeat father, Ryan Finnegan, who extorted his boys for money and perks after they had become famous, was out of prison and nowhere to be found, but Maura had just walked into the bullpen with the results of the DNA on the gun. "Belongs to a white male," she said when she handed Jane the file.

"So that means Ryan Finnegan still looks good for this," said Frost. He looked just as tired as Jane in his desk chair. He crossed his muscular arms, and Jane, who stood near her own desk, barely able to stay upright as the sun went down, nodded at this assertion.

"Motive could be revenge. The boys put him behind bars," she continued.

"Then why not go after all three of them?" Korsak asked from behind his own desk to play devil's advocate.

Jane shrugged. "Shane was that band. Ryan put all the pressure on him, but how the hell are we gonna find him?" She bit her finger in thought.

"Even if he was on skid row somewhere, he has to collect his social security," Korsak said.

"I tried that," Jane replied, "he listed a PO box."

"Yeah, but there's a cellphone number," Frost said, swinging his monitor around for them to see. "The billing address is the same PO box."

"Well, maybe you can call Mr. Finnegan. Ask him to come down to the police station," Maura suggested. She moved closer to Jane and studied the idea board just a few feet away.

"Oh good idea, Maura. 'Hey Mr. Finnegan, we think you murdered your son - can you just come on down here and tell us how you did it?'" Jane said in a faux-feminine lilt against the screen of her iPhone.

Maura furrowed her brow. "Does it make you feel better to mock me?"

Jane deflated immediately. "Kind of," she said. When Maura frowned, she revised. "I'm sorry - I'm frustrated," she pouted, bouncing on her heels in barely bridled emotion.

"It's ok," Maura smiled then, shaking her head to banish Jane's guilt.

"You know, actually, that's not an awful idea, now that I think about it," Jane said with her hands on her hips.

"It's not?" asked Maura and Frost together.

"No. Just gotta spruce it up a bit. I'll call him in on a lottery tip. He can think he's got a big check to pick up at the PO box."

Frost, Maura, and Korsak all shared impressed glances as Jane dialed his number.


Three hours later, Jane waited for the DNA comparison test results from the crime lab. Ryan Finnegan had been arrested and swabbed, had fallen for her ruse, and now they played the waiting game. She had solidified leads and tracked down all she could on the alcoholic father of The Channel Street Boys, and now she depended on Maura and Susie to lock it down.

And to top it all off, she was hungry. The cafe closed at 7, and even if she hadn't been two hours late, she couldn't ask her mother to serve her. Not after what she and Maura had done. She, quite naturally, really craved her mother's cooking in the moment, however, so she hatched a plan. And currently, Frankie was in the dark cafe scoring her a sandwich from Angela, who was closing up.

When he rounded the corner to find where she had been hiding, she snatched his sleeve. "How's she doing?"

"Not good," Frankie said severely. "Take it before she comes back from the bathroom."

"Thanks," Jane said as she accepted the food. "Hey listen, don't tell her that you knew about Lydia."

Frankie rolled his eyes. "You can't take all the heat."

"Yes I can," Jane assured him. "Just take care of her, a'right? We really hurt her."

Frankie watched Jane, how she stood before him a little stooped and broken by their mother's rejection. And yet, in the face of it, she shielded him from the brunt of it. "Hey, you're a really good person."

"No, I'm not. I lied to her, Frankie. I lied to her like Dad did."

"You were trying to protect her."

"You should have seen her face. She was devastated," Jane hung her head.

Frankie sighed. They both cursed the timing of this family shit storm as they tried to solve the murder of their friend. "Janie, did Mr. Finnegan do it?"

"I don't know, bud," Jane answered honestly. "Maura's still workin' on those results for me."

Angela, as if she sensed her children nearby, rounded the corner, too. "Frankie? Where did you go?" she asked, wiping her hand on a dish towel, "Oh."

"Hey Ma," Jane greeted her. Her normally deep and resonant voice was small and demure.

"Hi Jane," Angela answered and then turned away as quickly as she came.

"Told you," Jane said to her brother. "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you. She's just lashing out because she's embarrassed and mad," said Frankie.

"With good reason," Jane said, downcast until the elevator doors pinged open and black heels clacked down the hall of the empty lobby. Frankie turned to see the reason for the smile on his sister's tired face, nodded to Maura when he saw her.

"Hey, Maura," he said to her, kissing her cheek as he walked away.

"Hi, Frankie," she replied, accepting the gesture.

Jane waved her over. "We suck, Maura," she said, nodding her head in the direction of Angela's silhouette in the window of the cafe.

"I know," Maura commiserated. "But listen. The blood comparison tests came back. The blood in the gun slide isn't Ryan Finnegan's."

When she looked as if she were going to say more, Jane prodded her. "But?"

"But I found variable tandem repeats in the DNA test. The blood on the gun is similar, but has a different mitochondrial DNA."

"So it's a familial match? That means it's one of Shane's fucking brothers," Jane growled, handing Maura her uneaten sandwich, still in its plastic box. She jogged back toward the elevators to let Frost know what she had just found out.

"Wait, you're not hungry?" Maura tried lamely, knowing that Jane probably wouldn't eat until they were home.

"I gotta bring those bastards in first," Jane answered as the elevator doors covered her face from view.


"Shane wanted to leave the band," Jane, finally home and leaning over the counter of Maura's kitchen island, explained the Finnegan brothers' motives for the first time. "He and his girlfriend wanted to focus on humanitarian work, and he carried The Channel Street Boys. If he left, they could kiss their revenue goodbye. But if he died, their sales would skyrocket. It was all about the money."

"That's awful," said Maura. She readied her bedtime tea in a mug just after eleven PM, grateful for the Sunday to come, but still hurting while she watched Jane process the reality of her childhood friends as murderers of their own brother.

To Jane, it must have been unfathomable to kill one's brother. Jane loved her brothers, would die for them. Jane would die for any of her family members, even her father. Maura started to think maybe she was learning what that felt like, because she knew she would die for Jane, if the situation called for it. But the trauma of poverty, of parental abuse, and of fame must have distorted the Finnegan family dynamic until it was ugly enough for murder.

"Yeah, awful. Their family's falling apart because they had a deadbeat dad and they were at each other's throats, and now my family's doin' the same. You got anything in the fridge that has fat in it?" Jane grimaced, hoping against hope.

"I have some yummy, honey-smoked tempeh bacon in there," Maura teased as she licked her stirring spoon. When Jane whined, she melted. "Come here," she beckoned.

Jane quite literally fell into the embrace. "No. I want something that'll clog my arteries." Her words were muffled by the shoulder of Maura's blazer.

"Your family isn't falling apart," Maura whispered against Jane's hair. "This is a bump in the road. Your mother is far too loyal and far too kind to disown you." She relished the feel of Jane gripping her tight in thanks.

Just as Jane's eyes began to droop closed, they both jumped at the sound of the back door flying open. Frankie, in civilian clothes and a clear mix of anger and hurt, stormed into the kitchen.

Jane let go of Maura and walked towards him. "What, uh, what're you doin' here?" she asked, wiping her palms on her pants and clearing uncried tears from her throat.

"She wants me to help her move, Jane," Frankie griped. He pointed towards their mother's guesthouse. "She's been tryin' to convince me since we got off."

"What?" asked Jane, peeking her head around the corner of the open door.

"I'm gonna go move in with my cousin, Theresa," Angela appeared then, stepping into Maura's dining area. She pushed up the sleeves of her blue button up, nodding with finality.

"Angela, please don't," Maura pleaded, careful not to step too far forward into the Rizzoli orbit, but desperate to keep her. Suddenly the prospect of their family flying apart didn't seem so farfetched if Angela moved away, and her stomach clenched when she imagined her big Beacon Hill house empty of everyone but herself.

Frankie stepped in between his sister and his mother. "I knew about Lydia, too, Ma."

Angela scoffed. "I know. You and Jane always shared everything, and I… I understand that you all were trying to protect me," she said as she looked at Jane, Frankie, and Maura. "But-"

"Ma," Jane gently pushed Frankie aside as they warred for the brunt of Angela's ire. "Ma, I'm so sorry."

Angela shook her head. "But can't you understand that I can't have my children think I'm pitiful?" she continued.

"Ma," Jane tried again, "Dad is the one who's pitiful. You didn't do anything wrong. We did," she said, "Dad did. Ok? We… we all admire you. Don't you get that?"

"Admire me?" Angela chuckled in self-doubt, "For what. I lost my marriage, I lost my house, I live in your girlfriend's guest house. I-I work in a cafe making a little more than minimum wage-" and in the middle of her tirade, Jane put one of those long, strong hands on her shoulder and squeezed. It was enough to wrack her with sobs.

"I admire you because you picked yourself up when you could have just laid on the floor," Jane said fiercely, moving even closer when Angela buried her head in her arm to hide her crying. "No, Ma, I admire you for the person that you've always been. You're optimistic and warm and loving and strong. You're so strong, ok? You're an example to all of us. A good parent when Pop isn't."

"Hey hey hey," Frankie whispered, going to his mother, too, his meaty palm on her other shoulder, "she's right, ok? Of course we admire you, Ma. We could never pay back what you've given us, the life you've given us."

Maura had stayed quiet during their exchange because she wasn't sure if she would make things worse. But, as she watched Jane, and Frankie, a man who was practically her brother, collect the pieces of the woman who had been more of a mother to her than both of hers combined, she knew she couldn't remain idle any longer. She let a few of her own tears fall unabashedly against the tissue box that she carried their way. "I always wanted a mother like you," she told Angela, holding the tissues out to her. "Your children are my favorite people on this planet, all because of you."

"Oh, Maura," Angela cried openly, sighing and taking a few tissues. She collected herself and spared a glance at each one of them. "Ugh, you're great kids, you know that? Taking care of me even when you're lying."

"Because of you, Ma, just like Maura said. 'Cause of you." Jane slid her hand from her mother's shoulder to her fingers.

"I never really liked Theresa anyway," said Angela. "She doesn't clean her bathrooms." All four of them laughed until it hurt then, each thankful for the relief that the return of Angela's good mood brought. She pulled all three to her, close enough that they were all tangled up in an embrace. "I love you so much," she said as she kissed Maura, then Jane, then Frankie, his burly arms pulling them ever closer into each other.

"Alright," called Jane's smashed voice, "Ok. The group hugging, I can't do it."

Angela laughed again, letting them go, but then pointing between Jane and Maura. "You two can hug each other, you can spare a few seconds to hug your mother. Now, what are we gonna do about this Lydia situation?"

"She doesn't wanna do a paternity test," said Frankie.

Three sets of eyes trained on him. "How do ya know that, huh?" Jane, the ballsiest of them, asked.

"I took Lydia lunch during her shift today. Wanted to see what she knew," he answered honestly.

"That's why she thought I knew today! She had just come from seein' you!"

"Yeah well, didn't do any good because she told me it doesn't matter who the father is," he continued, "which I told her was bullshit, of course."

"That girl really is something else, coming here, trying to wedge her way into our family like that. I don't care whose baby it is - she's going to have to act right if she wants any of us to be a part of their lives," Angela said resolutely.

"Sounds good to me," Jane shrugged, ready to ice Lydia out for good and return to normal life, as normal as life in the Rizzoli family could be.

Maura wouldn't let that happen, however. "I'm willing to provide paternity testing to her free of charge, of course," she said. "Whether this baby is your sibling or your brother's child, I think we need to be there for them. You saw the… disarray Lydia just went back to, Jane."

Angela folded her arms across her chest. "Maura's right," she admitted, "but we need serious ground rules."

Jane leaned back against the counter. "Well maybe we can start by not letting her in the guest house."

"What did you want me to do, Jane? I didn't know that she was playing me. She was alone and homeless, so I let her sleep on the couch a couple of nights," Angela said.

"Even so, she can't stay here. She's gotta figure her shit out. We're not gonna do it for her. Tommy can, or Pop can, whoever knocked her up, but we shouldn't be pickin' up their messes anymore," Frankie said sternly.

"Yeah," Jane agreed. "And none of us go seekin' her out, a'right? She wants our help, let her come back, ready with an apology. Otherwise it's not happenin'."

"Ok, but you kids have to help me be strong when she comes around," said Angela, knowing herself, "because you all know I'm a sucker for a sob story."

"We know," her children whined in unison. They all chuckled again, and now that they had at least the outline of a plan to guide them, the tension in the room had begun to ease again.

"Ok, Rizzolis," Frankie said first, "it's been a whale of a day. I'm beat. Call me in the morning if you need anything," he implored them, kissing his mother and then his sister and then Maura before he headed toward the door.

"Yeah, bye brother," Jane waved him off. When Angela hugged her tight, she bid her farewell, too. "Bye, Ma. See you in the mornin'."

"Are you stayin' here tonight?" Angela asked.

"Yup, too tired to drive home."

"Good. I'll make you breakfast." It was an olive branch, and Jane accepted it with a weary smile.


Maura watched Jane grip the handrail tight with each labored step up the staircase to the main bedroom above. She studied Jane's legs, stomping to accommodate an uneven gait and aging spine, and yet, what was even more burdensome was the emotional beating Jane had been through today.

Her childhood friend had died, and her mother had taken an arrow to the back regarding Lydia, an arrow partially placed there by Jane and Maura themselves. It hurt Jane to lie to her mother, it hurt Jane to get caught lying, but it also hurt Jane to have to contend with the sins of her father, the bow that loosed the arrow in the first place. Each time Jane saw Lydia, it reminded her of those sins - so commonplace and yet still so mortal to the family-loving, family-loyal Rizzoli siblings.

When Jane sat on the edge of the bed, looking dejectedly at her boots and slumping her back, Maura again contended with the way she almost lost all of those Rizzoli siblings tonight. It filled her with longing. Her body hummed when she sat next to Jane, her hand on Jane's thigh. Jane's eyes, as they met her own, slipped closed. Jane leaned forward, asking silently for the kiss that she knew awaited her. Maura gave it freely, and soon one short smack for comfort converted into minutes of wet, fleshy exploration.

"Are you too tired to-" Maura started to ask.

Jane interrupted her. "No. Whatever the end of that question was, no. I'm not."

"Are you sure?" Maura pressed, kissing the swollen and dark nasojugal folds under Jane's eyelids to emphasize her doubt.

"Maura," Jane glowered, "you can't ask that after a makeout session. It's not fair. Of course I'm sure."

Maura nodded, her lower lip between her teeth. "Alright," she acquiesced. "Then sit in the chair for me?" She pointed toward the sitting chair in the corner of the room, the one they hadn't used since their first night together, the one with a tall back and low arms, perfect for crawling into.

Jane nodded, her lips a flat and retracted line, as Maura disappeared into the bathroom. She got up, undid her belt before anything else, pulling her button-up out of its tuck before completely disrobing and sitting down.

When Maura reentered in her black satin robe and nothing else, seeing Jane there, comfortable enough to lean her chin on her fist in thought, she smiled widely. "It was sweet of you to get naked, but I wanted you to keep this," Maura said to Jane, picking up her black button up on a curled index finger.

Jane, blinking herself back to reality, shrugged. She put her arms back through her shirt, and was immediately rewarded with Maura in her lap. "For ease of access," explained Maura, taking the small bottle of lubricant she had retrieved from her bathroom vanity and dropping it into Jane's breast pocket.

"Where are we putting that, huh?" Jane asked, grinning wickedly, sitting up at attention, wrapping her arm around Maura's back. She slid that hand lower, bunching up satin as she went, cupping when she found warm skin, pushing her middle finger into wet heat from behind.

Maura lurched forward and hissed. "Down there," she answered with a whisper in Jane's ear. She moved her right hand from Jane's shoulder and reached behind herself to pull Jane's hand toward the space between them.

Jane moaned when Maura sucked on her middle finger all the way down to the knuckle. "Ok," she complied dumbly.

Maura released Jane with a pop, and then chuckled deeply. "Open your hand for me," she commanded. Jane turned her palm up near their faces, breathing heavily. Maura took the bottle back out of Jane's pocket, turning it in her own hands slowly, warming its contents, before squeezing a small puddle into the middle of Jane's left scar. She rubbed it generously over Jane's fingers, her palm, her knuckles, while Jane watched her with pupils dilated enough to cover most of her irises. "Now do what you do, my love," Maura encouraged, glancing down to where their hips met.

Jane spent the next two or three minutes moving her fingers against Maura, and using her other hand to hold Maura's neck so that their foreheads stayed together. "We could have done this together, you know," she said, keeping her mouth open to swallow every whine Maura unleashed against her lips.

"I know," Maura croaked, "that was my intention, but then I got distracted." Soon enough, her own hand was between them, finding Jane where she needed to be found. "You have a… oh… a habit of doing that."

"Distracting you?" Jane huffed.

"Dismantling me," Maura cried out sharply, "and you just did that on purpose."

"What did I do on purpose?" Jane goaded, making her strokes longer and harder.

"Two can play, Jane," was all that Maura said in reply. She attempted a finger-twist meant to stun, but Jane snatched her wrist.

"I'll get mine in a second," said Jane, resisting, "slow it down. Slower."

Maura bit her lower lip again, nodding helplessly, groaning when Jane slowed in kind and then stopped. "What are you doing?"

"Ride it out," Jane asked of her. It was an imperative, like so many of the statements Jane and Maura made to each other in bed. The slight lilt of Jane's words, the kindness in it, was persuasive, and Maura realized why when the erotic winding of her hips brought her newfound control.

Jane wouldn't let her look away, either. They kissed with their eyes open, they embraced with their eyes open, they fucked with their eyes open. Maura looked into those eyes that had been a comfort to her since she first met Jane, and in them she saw all of the events that had transpired between them the last two months, the last five years - the friendship, the trust, the anger and the intimacy rocked her until she couldn't take it anymore. She pulled Jane against her, one arm around her shoulders, the other against her back, taking Jane's head in her palm as she sucked softly against the side of her face. "Move in with me," she pleaded as she came, her breath hot against Jane's ear.

Jane froze for the quickest of seconds, stiffened in Maura's arms. "What?" she asked.

Maura's hammering heart seized when she felt Jane go rigid. Before she said anything else, she needed to see Jane looking back at her again. When she pulled back to see not only Jane's soft crow's feet, but her cocky half-smile, she smiled back. "Move in with me."

"That's bold of you to ask before you finish the job," Jane flexed her index finger theatrically below.

"Tell me your answer or I won't," Maura murmured against the bridge of Jane's nose, relishing the way Jane kneaded her waist after pulling her robe completely open. She wouldn't hold out for long, she knew, but the play was fun when Jane asked her to continue in every way except with words.

"I…" Jane managed before a sharp intake of breath, Maura's fingers already back between her legs. They resumed their grinding, the fronts of their bodies sliding together in sweat as they moved. Jane, enamored by the fall of Maura's hair, by the twitch in her cheek as she exerted herself, decided to take the good thing hurtling towards her. "I already practically live here," she said as she made sure to look Maura fully in her face, "I guess we could make it official."