A/N: I'll post one chapter a day until we are finished. Seven left.


"You know, usually I hate it when I wake up with a face inches from mine." Jane could only open one eye, she was so sleepy. She curled her upper lip with the effort, though, and her pretty teeth were all on display.

"Usually?" Maura had been awake for a while. She had one pillow tucked between her head and her arm, and she reached for Jane in the way that she stared at her.

Jane reached back by speaking. "None of 'em were you. Now the view's not so bad," she said, and Maura put fingertips to her smile. That woke her up enough to check the clock. 5:57 AM. "It's early, kid."

"I'm not going into work today," Maura whispered. The sun had just barely risen and she felt safe admitting something that made her feel weak.

Jane kissed the pads of her fingers, sloppy from sleepiness and intimacy. "Probably for the best. But I'll miss you."

Maura couldn't help the smirk that took her over. "What's with you lately? You're being very sappy."

"Pickin' and choosin', Maura. That's what's with me," Jane said simply, as if Maura were supposed to know that that meant.

"What?" Maura asked, even though her raised eyebrows and slightly open mouth conveyed enough confusion without it. When Jane leaned forward and kissed her chastely, but long enough to make her point, she realized. "Ah. Commitment."

"Gross, right? Don't tell anyone," said Jane teasingly.

"Your secret's safe with me. For a little while. Eventually we do have to get married. You know, in front of people," Maura sighed, and her words sounded sweet, but Jane saw her sorrow.

"Yeah we do. But first thing's first. I gotta go in early to get prepped for trial one last time. You should call your mother so that you don't feel so alone."

"My mother doesn't want to hear about Paddy's RICO case, Jane. She hasn't even come back to the states since her accident."

"Not that mother," Jane said seriously.

Maura broke their trance then. She glanced down to her own body, a rough shape under the covers, and bit her lower lip. "I'm not going to call Hope. It would be too hard."

Jane nodded. "Ok. All I'm sayin' is she's probably the only other person on this planet who knows what you're goin' through."

"You're very thoughtful. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone that, either," Maura said, and then looked back up to Jane.

"Much appreciated. I've gotta get up, a'right? It takes me a little bit longer to get court ready," Jane said, ending her statement with a scrunched nose and a tiny huff of disdain.

"Mmm. But it's worth it. For me at least," Maura teased. When Jane blushed, she said, "I'll have espresso ready for you."

"And it's not even Saturday!" Jane said in faux excitement, shooting out of bed to avoid the smack headed straight for her.


Barry Frost was in the middle of straightening his tie when he heard the ding of the elevator bell. When Jane strode out in a flowy silk shirt and gray pencil skirt, he buried the tiny pangs of the old attraction he felt for her. When he saw that she was also wearing black close-toed heels, he decided it would be best if he just looked at her face. "You look… a little naked," he ribbed her in order to hide his blush.

"Excuse me?" she asked him, blazer over her arm and keys around her finger. She threw the keys on her desk and the jacket over the back of her chair.

"I can see your knees," he said, nodding to them quickly.

Korsak chuckled from his desk. "You want me to write him up for harassment?"

Jane smirked to herself. "Yes." She knew what men thought about her in clothes like this. She'd used it to her advantage a thousand times. The clothes she wore now were a very potent channel for her sexuality. What she lacked in a demure personality, she could make up for in legs that went on for days, and if she couldn't make men do what she wanted with her words, she could with her long bones. When she wanted to, of course.

Case in point, Korsak. "You do look nice, though," he said. "I always like you in your court outfits."

She smiled at the complement, ham-handed though it was. "You can write yourself up, too."

He shrugged. "You hear about Cal?" He showed her a coffee can money receptacle he had made.

She slumped into her chair and groaned. "Shit. Cal Ghetts died?"

Frost frowned, but confirmed it. "I wonder how Mrs. Ghetts' is doing. Nice lady, I always see her in church."

Jane was still too blindsided to acknowledge him. "How'd he die, Korsak?"

"He was mugged last night in Atlantic City," said Korsak.

"Last night? Didn't he just retire?"

"A month ago," Korsak replied. "Thirty years in the arson unit and he gets shot on vacation."

"Well fuck," Jane said into the shell of her hands as they rubbed her face.

Frost saw more than just sadness over the death of a former colleague there. "Nervous about testifying?" He asked gently, glancing over at their evidence board for the Paddy Doyle case. "I've only done it once."

Jane nodded. "But all Cavanaugh and I have to do is establish chain of custody to get Paddy's ledger admitted into evidence."

Korsak straightened his brown sport coat and walked over to her as she flipped through her copy of it. "I'll be glad when you get rid of that copy of his damn book."

Frost, however, was clearly interested. He leaned on his own desk and reached for it. "Can I see it?"

"No," Jane scoffed, until she realized he was serious. "And you don't want to."

"Yes I do," he said honestly. They both stared at him blankly. "Wait. You guys didn't read it?"

"I'm from Southie, Frost," said Korsak, "for all I know, I got cousins in that book."

Jane pointed to a stack of papers on Frost's desk. "I see you downloaded a copy of the federal indictment."

He thumbed through it. "It's interesting. You ever tried a RICO case before?"

"Nah," she said.

"Me either," said Korsak.

"Look at all these counts… loan-sharking, bookmaking, trafficking in narcotics, oh, and 15 counts of murder," Frost listed the greatest hits.

"Did Martinez tell you guys that he was supposed to be working the narcotics angle of the case?" Jane said quietly.

Both of her partners leaned in and shook their heads. "Hell no," Korsak said, a little put out, but mostly shocked. "What happened?"

"FBI booted him off the task force because he had ties to BPD. Apparently, they didn't want anyone from here within a hundred yards of the case," she said.

"Makes sense. Who knows how many of our brothers in blue are also on Paddy's payroll," Korsak reasoned.

Frost looked around them as if the people in question could be identified just by sight. "Damn, that's crazy. What I always wondered is, how did the feds establish that Paddy ordered all this stuff? Ordered the hits?"

"RICO is about proving that Paddy was the head of a crime syndicate, and he didn't have to pull the trigger himself," Jane said, standing. She walked over to their board and pointed to an older man just under the picture of Doyle at the top. "With Donovan's testimony, the government can prove Paddy was behind fifteen murders. It's a big deal for a lieutenant to turn."

Frost scratched his chin. "So why's the book important?"

"It corroborates his story. He's the only guy alive that can tie Paddy to all those murders," Korsak answered.

Cavanaugh appeared in the doorway then, and knocked on it for their attention. "Rizzoli, gonna need you in my office. AUSA's here."

Frost and Jane shared a look of comradery before she started her slow march there. He clapped her on the back. "Good luck. You don't have to say a word if you just show the judge those knees."

Jane rolled her eyes. "The judge is a woman."

He actually laughed. "Aren't you dating a woman? Clearly the attraction to your knees is not limited to one gender."

She smiled at him in thanks, for treating her the same as he would treat anyone else. "Good point. See you soon."


Maura cursed the sound of the doorbell as she fiddled with her espresso maker. She hoped that since it was minutes after Jane left, it would be her, having forgotten something. Then she wouldn't have to feel anxiety about opening the door in a cozy oversized sweater and tight black yoga leggings.

Hope stood there instead, and all of Maura's anxieties came to the fore. "Hope," she said quietly, with a sad smile.

Hope held up two bags of organic, fair trade African coffee. "I was going to leave these at your door, but then I saw your car."

"Come in," said Maura, moving aside.

"We always said we were going to have coffee, before all of this," Hope said as she followed Maura to the kitchen island. She hadn't been back since Cailin had escaped home to confront Maura some eight months before, and the atmosphere felt heavy even as the summer sun poked through the living room windows. "Is Angela here?"

"No, she's in Newark, visiting her sister. I am playing hooky," Maura said. "I was just about to make myself some espresso."

Hope saw the espresso machine on the counter and recognized it immediately. "Ah, La Pavoni. I had one once. La Pavoni was founded in Milan in 1905…"

Maura smiled. "By Desiderio Pavoni, uh, in a little workshop on Via Parini. Don't tell Jane that I bought this for almost a thousand dollars. She would kill me."

Hope laughed, and it made Maura laugh too. "I would think she'd make an exception since it's such a fine piece of Italian machinery. A fellow countryman's accomplishment."

"Jane's a southerner. Whose family hasn't lived in the country for almost a hundred years. She'll care much more about the price tag, trust me," Maura said, handing Hope a small espresso cup full of coffee.

"You two are not so different, you know. Your father's family came here around that time, too," Hope replied, and then she sniffed the coffee in her hand with pleasure. "Hmm, let's see. El Salvador Miravalle, and I also smell Brazil, Fazenda Cachoeria."

"That's amazing," Maura said genuinely, at the way her mother could pick apart each component of their drink.

Hope winked. "Where do you think you came from? Cailin puts goopy syrup in hers. No idea where she came from."

"She's nineteen," Maura reasoned. "You know, I hate to admit it, but I was addicted to corn syrup at that age."

Hope chuckled. "I wish I'd known you then," she said, unashamed of her own vulnerability. "And I wish that you had known him. Who he is now, who is on trial for being, that is not the man I fell in love with, not the man who fathered you."

"How did you meet?" It sounded like such a normal question to ask, but it was burdened by all of Maura's history when she asked it.

"I was studying on the Yard, and I saw him drawing me. So, we started talking. I found him to be… soulful and interesting. If a little brusque at first," Hope said, sipping more of her coffee.

"And then you started dating?" Maura pressed.

"Pretty shortly after that. We were friends first. He was so easy to talk to, and if there was something I wanted to talk about that he didn't know, he learned about it, and then came back to me, armed to the teeth with information. I found that charming. What about you?"

"Me? I first met him when he broke into my morgue to confirm that he was my father," Maura chuckled nervously. She still shuddered when she thought about how he had kidnapped her and had her tied up, even if only for the van ride to his hideout.

"No, I meant you and Jane. I've told you about how I met your father. I want to hear your story. I want to know more about you," Hope had somehow found boldness in her desire for Maura, something that had been lacking in their relationship up until this point.

Maura felt warm with it. "Well, there's not much to tell. We met at work." Hope only raised her eyebrows over her cup to say that such an answer was definitely not juicy enough. "We met first when she was in the drug unit. I had mistaken her for an actual sex worker in the line at the cafe and tried to get her to up her vitamin D intake. She didn't take it well."

Hope laughed airily and loudly at that. "I'm assuming she was undercover," she said.

"She was," Maura laughed, too, at the absurdity of it, "and she was quite rude. But the next morning, she had somehow found out who I was and came down to the morgue with an apology. And an offer to take me out for a beer. I refused because I hated beer, but she looked so distraught that I wasn't going to go with her and I've been in love with her ever since."

Hope beamed proudly. "It doesn't hurt that she looks like that either, does it?"

"No," Maura agreed. "Definitely not."

"And you started dating after her failed attempt to take you out?"

"No, we were best friends for a long time. We just recently decided to start a relationship. Less than a year ago," Maura explained.

Hope was impressed. "What an adult beginning. Very diplomatic. What was the tipping point?"

Maura colored. How much did she say? How much did she tell Hope about Paddy's shooting and the events following it? Should she tell her that it was Jane who put a bullet in him? "We started having sex," she said, in one way as blunt as she could be, and in another, obfuscating most of the details.

Hope sputtered on the sip of espresso she had just taken, and she blushed too, smiling wryly. "That sounds a little more normal," she teased. "She seems difficult to resist."

"She is, but she is so passionate and loving and intelligent that I wouldn't have been able to anyway. She told me I should call you today, because you would be the only one who knows what I'm going through. I said I wouldn't, but something tells me that she was right."

"She's very perceptive. You know, I think about what might have been a lot, Maura. I think about what it would have been like to raise you, with your father. Because he was those things, too. He was thoughtful and smart, and unbelievably kind. And that sounds crazy now, I know," Hope said quietly, setting her drink down to put a hand over Maura's.

"I think about what might have been, too," Maura removed her hand gracefully, using it to tuck her hair behind her ear. "I've never said this to anyone; it could easily be misinterpreted. But, I've caught him looking at me, and I see that man." She saw the indulgent smile on Hope's face and tried to ignore it, ignore the feelings they both so clearly still had for Doyle. So, she reached over to grab one of the bags of coffee Hope had brought, pressing her forearm directly onto the blistering hot steam wand of the machine. "Ow! Oh that hurt," she exclaimed, recoiling instantly.

Hope was at her side in two steps. "Let me see," she said, turning Maura's forearm upwards.

"Oh, it's fine," Maura dismissed it, but she flushed when she smelled the subtleties of her mother's perfume, felt the proximity of her arms.

"The steam wand is 240 degrees, Maura. You're not fine," Hope said, inspecting. "Go. Run this under cold water."

Maura sighed, and went to the sink. "I have some extra bandages in that drawer," she said.

"Actually, I prefer hemostatic trauma gauze," said Hope. She pulled a kit from her bag and took some out.

"What, you carry it with you?" Maura was intrigued.

"Since 1988. I took care of Saddam's burn victims in northern Iraq." Hope applied gentle pressure to the adhesive she had placed over Maura's burn, squeezing her forearm lightly, just for some extra comfort. "There. That's not too bad."

"No," Maura agreed. After a few seconds, she couldn't help herself. "Are you going to the trial?"

"No, I can't watch them put him away," Hope confessed.

"Do you think you'll have to testify? I mean, about MEND?"

"No. It seems that the FBI has more pressing things to do than to shut down an international aid organization."

"So, you're not worried that someday they'll just come in and seize the 2.5 million dollars that Paddy gave you to start MEND?"

Hope didn't back away, but she frowned and her gaze turned grave. "I will talk with you about anything but that. The less you know, the safer you are. I know you don't approve of what I've done."

Maura shook her head. "Paddy terrorized an entire community. That's how he got that money."

"But that money ultimately saved the lives of a lot of innocent people," Hope argued.

"Yeah, but you can't forget that it also cost the lives of a lot of innocent people," Maura's features were just as set as her mother's.

"What Paddy did is indefensible, and maybe what I've done is, too," Hope said, signalling the end of their discussion. "There. All better," she said, rubbing Maura's arm before letting it go.


Jane bounded through the house midmorning, her heels clomping against the hardwood floors. She stuck her head in each room on the first level, and then took to the stairs. "Maura!" she called out, impatient.

"In here!" she heard from the yoga room. She pulled open the screen, fashioned like a shoji, and frowned when she saw Maura on her knees and bent forward over them, her forehead on the mat below.

"What are you doing?" Jane asked, standing in the doorway, still in her court clothes.

"Child's pose. It's good for indigestion," Maura explained.

"Never in a million years did I think I would have a yoga room," Jane said as she looked around and stepped in.

"No shoes," Maura reminded her.

"Sorry." Jane kicked off her heels and got on her knees next to Maura. "Do you want me to chant something to ward off the evil shoe spirits?"

"Couldn't hurt," Maura chuckled. "Come join me. Child's pose is also good for your lumbar spine. Should reduce numbness in your lower extremities."

Jane slumped forward gracelessly. "Oh yeah," she said, muffled by the bamboo mat on the floor. "That feels great. I could do this all day."

Maura moved behind her, pulled at the crease between Jane's abdomen and hips with one hand, and pushed down on the curve of her back with the other. Jane grunted in release and Maura smirked. "The judge would issue a bench warrant for you if you did." She pressed again, harder this time, and Jane winced.

"Shit!" she yelped. When she recovered, she sat up straighter than she could have before. "I uh, I got your text. So… you and Hope geeked out over coffee? That sounds nice."

Maura sighed, sitting next to her, still on her knees. "It wasn't. I gave her a hard time. You know, she's saved thousands of innocent people who were caught in wars and natural disasters, but…" she trailed off.

"But you just can't get over the fact that her humanitarian organization only exists because she took Paddy's dirty money?" Jane said.

"Exactly."

"Show me a yoga pose that ends all problems," said Jane. "We could use one."

"Mmm," Maura thought, stretching, "We'd have to move to the yoga colony in Shivajinagar, Pune."

"Pune?" Jane said, swishing the word around in her mouth, "I'm not moving to Pune."

Maura took a swig from her water bottle and smiled. Jane's face was so soft and so trained on her that she couldn't help but put her hands on it. When she did, Jane closed her eyes to revel in the touch. "Do you miss your father?" Maura asked her.

"Yeah, I do," Jane answered. She blushed with shame at the admission. "You think if I tracked him down in Florida and forced myself to watch him snuggle with his slutty blonde girlfriend that I wouldn't miss him so much?"

"I wish you wouldn't call women that. But no," said Maura. "What makes you think she's blonde?"

"They're always blonde," Jane snarked, and Maura laughed.

"My father, my adoptive one," she said after their giggles died down, "he cheated."

"Well, we have more in common than I thought, baby. I'm sorry," Jane commiserated. "How old were you?"

"Fourteen," Maura answered. Then she turned to Jane and made sure that their eyes were locked for her next statement. "I walked in on him, with my best friend's mother. Well, I actually walked in on him buttoning up his shirt afterwards, but the implications were clear."

"That had to be awful."

Maura shrugged. "Sure. But then, he begged me to keep it a secret from my mother. From everyone. And to this day, I've kept it." She felt Jane frown against her hands.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jane growled, "you were a child, Maura. He really made you not tell anyone?" When Maura nodded, she cursed again. "What a fucker. Sorry, I don't know him. But, Christ."

"It's ok," Maura assured her, pressing her own lips together so that she wouldn't sob. A few tears slipped down her cheeks anyway. "Don't cheat on me," she said quietly, and even though she smiled as she said it, Jane heard the begging. Maura heard it, too, as it tumbled out. "Or turn out to be the head of a crime family," she tried to joke, to save a little bit of her pride, but it fell flat with the break in her voice.

Jane stayed put, knowing Maura wouldn't want arms around her without asking first. But, she leaned into the thumbs stroking her cheeks with all her might. "I won't. On either count. Maura?" she paused, waiting until they looked at one another again, "I won't."

Maura nodded swiftly and then swiped at her eyes. They shared a few moments of poignant silence as she went back to yoga. Jane's phone buzzed with a text message. "You going to get that?"

Jane pulled it from its clip. "Ok, I gotta go to court," she said, rising slowly.

Maura glanced back at her. "I'm coming with you."

"You sure? You don't have to do that," Jane said. Maura reached up for her, and so she put her arm out for help. Maura grasped it and stood up, too.

"Yes, I do. That man is my father, and I have to see this through."


Maura had never sat on this side of the courtroom before, in the spectator seating. She was always the expert witness, the professional, the sought-after opinion. Therefore, she spent most of her time on the witness stand. One felt power there, if one knew what one was asked to talk about. To be in an elevated seat and facing both the jury and the spectators imbued her with confidence. Boston had some of the country's oldest and most ornate courthouses, and thus some of the best witness stands, but the one they were in now was modern, understated. It accentuated how small she felt as she watched Jane testify. Not even her leather jacket, skin tight red sleeveless dress, Louboutin red bottoms, and gold box chain could console her.

AUSA King, the man that had been prepping Jane at the station for this moment over countless weeks, approached the stand. "Can you describe the location in question, Detective?"

"Yeah, the Boston Cemetery," answered Jane, her legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap.

"Mmhmm. And can you tell us what you found there?" King asked.

"A plastic bag with a blue ledger in it."

"Detective, is this the ledger that you found?" King held up the book in question, in a clear evidence bag.

"Yes," said Jane.

"Thank you. No further questions," King responded, and then Jane was dismissed. Paddy watched her as she walked back to the bench where Maura sat, running his eyes from her toes to the crown over her head before staring straight at his daughter.

Maura wondered whether or not she imagined the challenge and the apology there.

Lieutenant Cavanaugh Jane and Maura followed AUSA King out of the courtroom after the rest of the witnesses had been called and they had been dismissed. "Ok, we're off to a good start. Thank you both," he said.

However, just as they exited, Frost and Korsak came running up, out of breath and pale. "What? What is it?" asked Jane.

"Your phones were off. Jackie Donovan is dead," Korsak said, gulping in gallons of air after having hoofed it up the stairs.

"What?!" Jane shouted, loud enough that other court-goers turned towards her.

"The US Marshal's car he was in was t-boned by a semi on Congress and Atlantic Avenue," said Frost, "about ten minutes ago."

Maura gasped. "That's just around the corner!"

Jane sagged with the weight of the information. "Fuck. Paddy got to him."

"It looks like it," said Korsak. "Two US Marshals are dead, too."

"So what does this mean for the trial?" Maura asked.

"It means that Paddy won the first round," Jane answered. King could only nod in agreement as the five of them stood around each other, numb.