"Now?" Jane called toward the open back door of her home, careful not to peek outside, but impatient to do so.

"No!" Frankie shouted back. Jane couldn't see him, but she could hear him, and he was close, maybe just a few feet away from the door itself, and that made her impulsivity worse.

The only thing that kept her from bouncing out into the courtyard and ruining the surprise was her bone-deep exhaustion. "I'm so tired, my taste buds are asleep," she said around the chalky mound of… whatever she'd just taken a bite out of. She showed it to Maura as she walked back over to where the other woman stood in the kitchen. "What are we eating?"

"A gluten-free almond cookie," Maura struggled to reply around the dry flour and powdered sugar sucking the moisture out of her mouth. Her flowy white blouse, with bars of primary color stacked throughout, swished more freely than her words as she watched Jane push up behind her.

"Ah," said Jane faux-seriously, "so, it's supposed to taste like cardboard."

Maura laughed tiredly. "It doesn't taste quite like cardboard."

Jane shoved the rest of the cookie in her mouth and then stamped her foot, her patience all spent up. "C'mon Frankie! Maura and I put in an 18-hour day! I wanna go to bed," she whined loudly in the direction of the courtyard.

"Hold on!" Frankie called back, just as annoyed.

"Oh, let him impress you," Maura soothed, putting her right hand on Jane's disgruntled face, stroking her cheek under her thumb. "You've sprouted substantially more gray hair this past week," she said, kissing the offending roots at Jane's temple affectionately. "Maybe it's because you never learned how to wait."

"I think it's because I haven't had time to go to the salon," Jane deadpanned, still grumbling despite the touch being leveled her way. "That's the real me. Sure you still wanna get married, now that you know I look like this?"

Maura scoffed. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get out of marrying me," she said with a frown and a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe," said Jane in a ridiculous stage whisper. When she was smacked, she righted the ship. "Never," she said more seriously, under a chortle.

"Ok, she's ready!" Frankie yelled, and Jane did a little dance.

She and Maura made their way outside, into the soft yellow light of the lamps just above the doors and the edison bulbs that Maura had hung around her seating area just behind the open gate. "Whoa!" Jane exclaimed in true surprise when she saw the restored, all-black, vintage Indian motorcycle.

"Ta-da!" said Frankie, smile broad and true. "Huh?" he asked, raising his brows in satisfaction.

"What?!" Jane said, clearly at a very excited loss for words.

"Right?" He said, and Maura patted his back to congratulate him on his bike, and on successfully shutting Jane up.

"That looks amaz-" Jane began, but then stopped. Her eyes fell to that open gate, where her youngest brother approached them, accompanied by none other than their father. She stiffened, became tall and rigid, and Maura felt it. "Pop," Jane said harshly, barely containing her emotion.

Frankie had no such restraint. "Why are you here?" He spat as soon as he saw Frank.

"I need a reason to see my family?" Frank asked, attempting confidence, but portraying insecurity in his shaking voice and nervous fidget.

"We haven't heard from you in a year," Jane said, stepping forward, shoulder cocked forward in front of Maura, who stood by quietly.

"I'm sorry," said Frank, holding up his hands while his two eldest rapidly escalated.

"We're gonna need more than that," Frankie growled, tightening his grip on the push broom in his hands.

Tommy sensed the heightened feelings and stepped closer, ending up between his brother and his father. "Come on, guys. Give him a break. He just wants to see the baby."

Jane snarled. "Really? Well, I don't see the baby, do you, Frankie?"

Frank Sr. sighed. In a way, he had expected this response. "I know I should have called," he said, and Jane snorted at the obviousness of the statement, "but uh, I wanted to surprise you kids."

That incensed her. "Great! We love your surprises. Surprise! I'm leavin' ya mother. Surprise! I slept with Tommy's girlfriend," she shouted, an amalgam of acid and pain.

Frankie latched on. "Surprise! I left all you guys holdin' the bag when I stiffed the IRS to the tune of twenty-seven thousand bucks!"

"A'right, a'right," Frank said, and Maura thought it sounded like a strange, inadequate imitation of Jane, rather than the other way around. She was shocked when he glared at her. Her specifically. "Could we not do this in front of people?" he asked, waving his hand in her direction.

She swallowed audibly, not to stifle her own anger, but because she knew she wouldn't be able to stifle Jane's. As if on cue, Jane roared. "People? Peop- that's Maura," she yelled, and stepped into her father's space, pressing her index finger into his chest. "And if you think you're gonna come into her house and disrespect her like-"

"I'll go make some tea," said Maura, a little more loudly than she usually would have if she weren't trying to prevent Jane from assaulting someone. Assaulting her own father. "Excuse me, please."

Frank shook his head as if to clear the air of what he had just done. "I'm actually here to speak to your mother," he said, the truest thing he'd told them since he arrived.

And as if drawn to them by Frank's admission, Angela and Cavanaugh appeared in the gateway, just back from dinner. "About what?" she asked, stopping to look Frank Sr. in the eye.

Frank saw Cavanaugh and clenched his teeth. "I'll talk to you when you're not with him."

"Then you won't be talking," she said, crossing her arms over her chest in a defiant stance.

Cavanaugh rubbed his hand over her back affectionately two or three times, and then turned to Frank in as friendly as a gesture as he could. "How're you doin', Frank?"

Frank spat at the cordiality. "Better before I saw you. And what are you doin' with my wife?"

"Ex-wife, Frank," Angela said, stepping between the two men. "And unless you're here to explain why you left me holding the bag with the IRS, I want you to leave."

Jane put her finger down and squeezed a tight fist. "A'right, Pop, why, uh… why don't you just leave, ok? Wait til we all got cooler heads. Where're you stayin' at?"

Frank blinked a few times, and then seemed to think better of whatever he was about to do. "I'm stayin' at the, uh, the Lighthouse Motel. Over on 14th."

Jane nodded. "Ok, so, we'll talk tomorrow."

"We? Speak for yaself," Frankie said, and then he was walking toward the guesthouse.

"Good night, Frank," Cavanaugh said, deciding he shouldn't leave Frankie alone.

Angela sealed the deal. "Kids, come inside for a cup of tea."

Tommy followed her. "I'll see ya later, Pop," he said sadly, but then disappeared into the guesthouse all the same.

"Yeah," Frank said to him quietly, even after he had left. There was clear dejection in his tone.

Jane was the only one who remained, unwilling to cede ground to him, to cede the ground of her home to him. Her phone buzzed against her hip, and she viewed the text. Dispatch. "Me and Maura gotta go to work, ok?" she said to him, hinting strongly for him to leave.

He stood still. "You… you work too hard, Janie," he said, but instead of chastising, it just sounded like a plea.

It hit her heart. "Can you just go to the motel, please?" she demanded, feeling emotion she refused to show him, and only when he finally walked away to his rental car did she turn to go back inside the house.


Inside, Maura was wordlessly adjusting the shoulder pads of her gray blazer, no tea in sight. Jane reached for her own jacket and tossed it on, pulling out her hair roughly. "He's gone," she told Maura.

Maura turned to her and frowned. "Are you alright?"

Jane grimaced. "No. I'm sorry you… I'm sorry he said that about you. You're not just people to us. You gotta know that."

"Jane, of course I know that. Your father hasn't been present for any of our relationship. How could he know?" Maura reasoned, handing Jane the keys to the Prius.

Jane glowered, her upper lip curling to expose her right incisor and her eyebrows coming down in a compressed line. "He knew. He knows how much you mean to us, and he still said it. Because he's got these hang ups about blood bein' thicker than water."

Maura accepted that answer in silence, choosing not to bring up that Jane had said the exact same thing about her when they fought over Paddy's shooting. She needed only to see how Jane had reacted to her father's statement outside to know that Jane had changed. "It's hard to evolve from the mindset you were raised in," she said instead. Jane pushed her lower back with a gentle pressure as they exited the front door.

"Yeah well, he still hasn't apologized for takin' off to Florida and hookin' up with a bunch of bimbos," Jane said icily as she opened Maura's car door for her.

Maura waited until Jane was in the driver's seat and buckled in to reply. "Apologizing is a major threat to identity and self-esteem for someone who struggles to manage strong emotions."

"I guess the Rizzoli apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh?" said Jane, looking not at Maura but only at the road as they drove to a nightclub downtown, where their latest body was located.

Maura didn't disagree, but she did qualify. "Maybe not. But you really have gotten much better at apologizing since our last… major spat."

"That was world war three, Maura," said Jane. She shivered at the memory of how they had hurt each other. "I never wanna go through that again."

"Talk to me and we won't," Maura offered simply. "You weren't the only one to blame for how out of control that situation got."

"I know," Jane said. "Let's stop talkin' about it before I end up even sadder," she groaned, and then parked the car at The Argot, a jazzy little club with lots of singer-songwriter nights during the week.

"Alright," Maura replied. "Now, let's process this scene so that we can go to bed. I'll do the autopsy in the morning."

"Even if we got an open and shut?" Jane asked, but Maura heard the tiredness, the hopefulness in her voice.

"Sleep deprivation is as much of an impairment as inebriation. And I do not like to make mistakes - it's past midnight," said Maura.

"A'right, I get. Make it quick is what you're sayin'," Jane said, exiting the car and helping Maura do the same.

"No, make it thorough, yet efficient. You know how to do that," Maura revised, and then they met Korsak and Frost inside the building.


"An hour has got to be a record," Jane said as she waited for Maura to take her hand, the two of them now safely parked back on their Beacon Hill street.

Maura chuckled softly. "Maybe so. But I'm exhausted. I really needed to get in and get out so I could get some sleep."

"Yeah. I might even crash with my clothes on," said Jane, looking slyly at Maura from the corner of her eye.

The reaction didn't disappoint. "You most certainly will not. Not if you want to sleep in my bed," Maura warned.

They turned the corner into the guarded courtyard leading to the main house, where Frank Sr. sat, nursing a bottle of Crown Royal in a paper bag on Maura's wrought iron bench. Jane stopped them, handing squeezing tighter in Maura's, interlaced fingers providing almost uncomfortable pressure. "What're you doin' here, Pop?"

"I need to speak to you, Janie. Alone," he said, not with malice, but with conviction.

Jane believed him. After a few seconds of indecision, she nodded to him once. "Go inside, ok?" she said to Maura, "I'll uh, be in in a minute."

Maura did not want to leave her alone, with her father, afraid of what might pass between them. But, she also knew that whatever was going to be said wasn't for her ears. And, whatever it was, Jane would tell her soon enough anyway. So, she let it go. She put her hand on Jane's abdomen, flat and firm, and kissed her on the mouth. Jane didn't recoil, but rather leaned into it, deepened it, for one or two seconds more before Maura broke them apart softly and entered the house, alone.

Jane crossed her arms and watched her breath swirl out into the cold air. "You started drinkin' again?"

Frank smiled ruefully to himself. "Yeah. I needed my old friend," he said with another swig.

Jane took the bottle from him as soon as he was done, and put the cap back on, sitting down next to him. "What is it? The back taxes thing, what?"

"I got cancer," Frank gulped, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jane froze. Her eyes got wide, her palms sweated, her dinner lurched into the back of her throat. "When… when did you find out?" she asked quietly, her voice hoarse and dark like his.

"A few weeks ago," he said. "Prostate."

"How bad?"

"They don't know yet. They sent me here for a second opinion at Mass General," he said sadly.

"I'm sorry, Pop," Jane said impulsively, rubbing his shoulder.

"Yeah. I don't know if I'll be able to… you know… after any kind of surgery, and the doctors-" he struggled, and his struggle ignited her.

"God, please stop. Do you have any idea what you did to us? What you did to Ma?" she interrogated, right back to the anger that had carried her for so long. That he would worry about sex, about what got them all into this fucked up mess in the first place, at a time like this, and to her… she bristled.

"I- look. It's hard for me to open up," was all that he said.

"Me, too. But try. You put ya family through hell. And, I, for one, would like to know why. You were a good dad. We were a good family. We had good times, right?" Jane pushed.

"Yes, we did," Frank conceded with a smile.

"So why? Why would you sleep with Lydia? Why would you do that to Ma, then just take off like that?"

"Look, I loved your mother for a long time. And when you kids were home and the business was good, we were happy. But then you guys grew up and left. Business went bad, and it was just me and her. I was just so unhappy, Jane," he explained.

"So you're only back because you need us," Jane said, hurting him because his excuse hurt her.

He sighed. "I was hopin' that you need me, too. Look… Jane, would you tell your mother about the cancer? I need her, too. I need her support, and I know if it comes from you, she won't turn me down."

Jane balked. "Pop, I can't. I'll be here for you, ok? But, you gotta ask her for forgiveness before you can ask for her help."

Frank shrugged, accepting that answer. At least he tried. "I'll give her a call, then," he said with finality. He stood up and pulled out his flip phone. "I'll call a cab, too. Thanks for at least hearing me out, sweetheart."

Jane stood, too, and wiped her hands on the tops of her thighs. "Y-yeah. Anytime. Call me, ok? Let me know what's goin' on. But I gotta get to bed; me and Maura got a packed day tomorrow."

"You and Maura, huh? How long has that been a thing?" He asked.

"Uh, long time, I guess. Whether I realized it or not," she said shakily. He had been the one person in her life that she wasn't sure would accept her relationship with Maura. But, she found herself caring less and less each month that passed without hearing from him, each time she found out about a new slight against her mother that he had perpetrated.

"You know, I always figured Joey'd come back and you'd settle down with him," Frank said, and then she knew exactly what he thought. She heard what he felt about it when she heard the disappointment hiding behind the nonchalance of his statement. "Things change."

"Yeah, they do," she said tersely. "Joey picked DC and Maura picked me. Do the math, Pop."

He was silent for long seconds before finally spurred to action, and she didn't deliver him from the awkwardness of it. "Alright, honey. I'll see you around. I'll be in town this week for a few appointments."

"A'right. Good night," she said. She watched him walk away for the second time that night, considerably more weighed down than the first.


She must have been out there longer than she'd realized, because Maura was in black silk pajamas, with long sleeves and long pants, fixing up that belated tea on the stove. Her hair was up and her makeup was gone and Jane whimpered a little bit at the sight, wanting nothing more than to crawl into Maura's lap and stay there.

Maura noticed. "Oh Jane," she whispered, going over to her at the door and hugging her softly. Jane deflated instantly, feeling herself go slack and heavy against Maura's frame, begging to be held up, and of course Maura obliged, arms tight around her back. "Can I get you some tea?"

Jane struggled back to her feet, her full height, and shook her head while she sniffled. "Agh," she cleared her throat, gathered herself, "no thanks."

Maura nodded slowly and walked back over to her kettle. "What happened?"

"He's got cancer. Prostate cancer," Jane said simply, chewing on her thumb, eyes to the floor.

"Oh my god," Maura dropped the kettle back onto the burner with a clang, harder than she meant to. "I'm so sorry, my love."

"He said they sent him here to get more tests done," Jane explained, heaving her body into one of the island's stools. Then she groaned. "Why did he tell me? Why do I always have to be the oldest?"

Maura slipped into her MD, a thing she did so well in times of strife. "Prostate cancer is one of the most survivable cancers if it doesn't spread. Do you know what stage it's in?"

"No, he didn't know. I had to stop him when he started worrying about his manhood," Jane said, making a gagging motion.

"Well, the good news is that forty to sixty percent of men who are able to have erections before surgery are able to after," Maura said clinically.

Jane gagged again. "Please, spare me that good news. I'm glad I don't have to worry about any of that shit anymore."

Maura smiled in spite of herself. "No, you don't."

"Are there any visible symptoms for prostate cancer? You know, like a prostate limp or somethin'?" Jane asked, deep in thought.

"No, Jane. Why?" Maura was confused.

"I just… I'm not really sure I believe him."

"Why would he lie?"

"I don't know, to get sympathy maybe? Like if he's sick, maybe it erases some of the fucked up shit he did?"

As Jane spoke, Angela entered the main house for the first time that night, also in her pajamas. "I saw your father, loitering out there, waiting for you. The only reason I didn't go out there is because Sean would have torn him to shreds."

Jane looked at her mother sadly. "Yeah well, the Lieutenant's gonna have to get in line."

Angela saw the tears her daughter wasn't crying and felt some of her own spring up. "That's why he came back - he's sick, isn't he?" Jane nodded, biting her lower lip to stop the crying. A few tears slipped out anyway. "And he wanted you to tell me, didn't he?"

Jane stood so that she could face Angela properly. "Ma, he… he told me because he's afraid to tell you."

"He should be," Angela scoffed. "What does he have?"

Jane crossed her arms over herself and her voice wavered heavily. "He has cancer. Prostate cancer."

"I see," Angela said, rocked by the news but standing firm in her spot. "Ok. Ok. I'll deal with him. And I'll tell your brothers. You go upstairs and you get some sleep, alright?"

Jane sobbed once, twice. "I'm sorry to dump this on you, Ma," she said sadly, and Angela grabbed her face, thumbs swiping away at errant tears.

"You didn't, baby. You didn't. He did," Angela assured her, and then pulled her into a hug.

Jane nodded vigorously, untrusting of how she would sound if she tried to speak again.


When Maura finished her cup of sleepytime tea and finally made it upstairs, she had expected to see Jane passed out on the covers. Instead, she sat on the side of the bed in some boxer briefs and her sports bra from the day, bare feet playing with the carpet below. Her spine was curled, the perfect manifestation of her jumbled thoughts, and each hand kneaded at the opposite one's scar. "I thought you'd be asleep by now," Maura said quietly, taking a seat next to her, putting a finger on her knee and swirling light patterns there.

Jane pulled her lips back in an attempted smile. It fell short. "Please tell me you're not sleepin' in those," she said.

Maura looked down. "No, I'm not. Why?"

"I don't think, after all the shit that's happened today, I could handle it if you also told me you decided to stop sleeping naked again," Jane teased.

Maura felt assuaged by the humor. A little - at least Jane was feeling somewhat herself. "Well," she started, undoing the buttons of her top slowly, thoughtfully, "the benefits far outweigh any negatives. So you're safe, at least for the short term."

Jane exhaled theatrically. "Thank god," she said, all New England vowels.

Maura stood, removed the rest of her clothing, and turned off the dim light of her bedside lamp before climbing under the covers. She let Jane sit unfettered for a few moments, and then called out for her. "Jane? Come lay down with me."

Jane heeded the call desperately. She pushed herself under the covers and then dropped her face to the space between Maura's breasts, inhaling as much of the body wash and sweet perfume that she could.

Maura held her close, and ran methodical fingers through her wavy black hair. "You don't have to do this alone," she said after a few more beats of silence, "you have me."

Jane snuggled closer. "I know," she breathed out against Maura's sternum, the cocoon of blankets and skin drawing her closer to sleep by the second. "I know you have my back."

"I have all of you. If you need me to step back, I can. But if you need to fall apart, need me to pick up the pieces, I can do that too. I can make calls; I can schedule appointments, I can get him the best oncologists in Boston. Just say the word and I'll do it."

Then, for the first time that night and the first time since their relationship began, Jane broke down. Maura's words dismantled the wall she'd built up to keep her father out and keep her despair in, so that she could be strong for the rest of her family. Her sobs shook her so hard she felt as though she were flying apart, and she clawed at Maura's back to keep herself moored. Her cheeks grew so tight they hurt, and her nose grew so congested that each breath through her mouth rattled on its way down. She let herself do it, let herself unload all of it in the quiet of their bedroom, in the soundproof haven of Maura's arms.

And Maura just held her. She didn't speak; she just continued to breathe, even and calm, and waited for Jane to come back.

Eventually, Jane did, and she came back changed. "I need you," she said lowly, resolutely.

Maura had never heard something so intoxicating and so anti-Jane. "Alright," she said, kissing Jane's forehead, careful not to look too long at all the evidence of Jane's vulnerability, her wet face and red eyes. "What do you need me to do?"

"No," Jane shook her head slowly. "No, I just need you. However I can get you." She said it and it sounded like scales coming off of her eyes. It sounded new and revelatory.

"Well, you have me all the ways a person can, Jane," Maura affirmed for her. She inhaled sharply when she felt Jane's palm rubbing its way from her side, to her hip, to her ass and then back again.

"Hmm," Jane hummed, and the vibration tickled the damp skin of Maura's chest. "Go into work without me tomorrow morning. I got a couple errands to run first."