Author Notes: Finally managed to get another chapter written, and I go away again tomorrow until Monday, so the next update will probably be a few days off, if not a week. I'm too busy right now, haha. But at least I got a chapter up in between! Enjoy.

A loud banging joined the drum beat in Jane's head as she was pulled out of sleep. She rubbed at her eyes. She can't have been asleep for long, though she didn't really know what time she arrived home. She pushed the sheets aside and climbed out of bed. Another bang. Her head thumped to the same rhythm, continuously. Jane walked toward the door, running her fingers through her thick main.

"What?"

She jumped at Frankie's voice, twisted round to the couch where he sat upright, his eyes barely open.

"Get up, you jerk," she shouted, whacking him on the leg. "Was that you?"

"Was what me?" he asked quietly, wincing. "Speak quietly."

"I'll speak as loud as I like," she shouted, regretting it instantly. Another knock. "Someone's at the door, get up."

She stood beside the door and peered through the small eyepiece. Her heart leaped in her chest. She swiftly pulled open the door and smiled at Maura. It took all of her energy not to wrap her arms around her.

"Good afternoon," Maura said, placing a hand on her arm and placing her lips against Jane's cheek. She retreated into the apartment, away from the temptation of Maura's skin. She could smell her, in that brief moment of contact, her scent lingered under her nostrils.

"Afternoon?" she asked, glancing around in search of a clock.

"It's two," Maura said, raising an eyebrow, she followed Jane into the apartment. Her eyes landed on Frankie, then returned to Jane. "Big night?"

"Morning, Maura," he said, holding up an arm from the couch.

"Something like that," she said, hitting Frankie on the arm. "Go home."

"Good afternoon, Frankie."

"Already?"

"For two hours," she said, smiling.

"I said go," Jane snapped, the banging in her skull made her irritable and she didn't want to share her time with Maura with Frankie.

He groaned and stood up, before sitting down again. "In a minute."

Jane rolled her eyes and filled the coffee pot. Maura took a seat at the counter and watched as Jane finished making the pot of coffee. With two mugs filled, Jane pushed one across to Maura.

"Do I get one?" Frankie asked, still sitting on the couch.

"No," Jane said.

Frankie stood up, slower this time, his eyes fixed on the pot of coffee as he walked across the room. Jane stood in front of him, her arms folded across her chest. She didn't want him there. He stepped to one side. Jane blocked his path.

"Come on, Janie," he muttered. "I need coffee."

Opening a cupboard, Jane pulled out a paper cup and filled it with coffee. She handed it to Frankie. "Now get out of here before I literally throw you out on the street."

"I'm going," he said, holding his hand up, his other gripping the cup. He backed out of the kitchen and disappeared out of the front door, muttering to himself.

"You look exhausted," Maura said, glancing after Frankie. "You both do."

"Ma made us go out."

"Did you enjoy yourselves?"

Jane shrugged. "It was alright."

"Where did you go?"

"Heat."

"Heat?"

"It's a gay club, Ma thought it'd be funny to send me and my little brother."

"Frankie knows?"

"Only 'cause I told him."

"That's a few people you've told now," Maura said.

Jane smiled. Regardless of how many people she told, it still felt weird. "Yeah, I guess it is. What's up? You don't usually turn up on my doorstep."

"No," Maura said. "I wanted to talk with you."

x

"Well?" Jane asked, raising an eyebrow. "You can't say you wanna talk to me and then go quiet for this long."

Maura pursed her lips. She'd rehearsed the words she would use to explain her feelings over and over again. Eventually she would have to talk to someone outside of her therapist. Especially if she wanted to face the thoughts traversing through her mind.

"My biological mother died," Maura said, listening to the words as she spoke them aloud. She hadn't said them for a while. They felt unusual on her tongue, yet somehow more familiar. "I've lost a link to my genetic history and to a life I didn't have. I feel sad that she's gone. I feel devastated for Cailin, to have lost her mother so young. But my feelings towards Hope have always been complex, and they remain so. Hope was not my mother, not in the traditional sense."

"What's brought Hope up again?" Jane asked, sipping on her coffee.

"Hope has not been far from my mind since she died," Maura said, narrowing her eyes. "Somedays I expect to grieve more, other days I expect I've grieved enough. What strikes me is that I don't feel the long term grief I expected would come with the death of my mother. I think had it been Angela, I would suffer more."

"Ma?" Jane frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I always thought that I needed to know where I came from to understand myself. I don't. My relationship with Constance has been somewhat fractured. She brought me up into a world of privilege and opportunity. She didn't provide me with love. I thought I could get that from Hope, I thought that of all people, my biological mother had to be the one person who would show me the love I missed out on in childhood."

"But she let you down."

"She did. Angela didn't have to love me, she chose to be both a friend, and a pseudo mother. If Angela had died instead of Hope, I hypothesise I would feel a greater loss. She would deserve more of my grief."

"It sounds like you've thought a lot about this."

"It's not been the sole focus of my attention in the last thirty-six hours." Maura wrapped her hands around the coffee mug. She paused, contemplating the words before she said them, laid them out methodically in the hope they would sound clearer. In the end, she put them all to one side and said the bare minimum. "I'm not pregnant."

"Since when?" Jane sat up a little straighter.

"I did a test yesterday morning."

"Oh." Jane narrowed her eyes and glanced down at her mug.

"I'm sorry," she said, sliding her fingers over the top of Jane's. "I didn't want to exclude you from doing the test."

"Then why did you?"

The terseness of Jane's voice filled Maura with a sense of regret. She didn't move her fingers, and Maura clung to hope that Jane wasn't as angry as her voice suggested. "I feared how I would feel about the result, and I didn't want to have to talk about it. I needed time to work through my feelings."

Jane pursed her lips, untangled her fingers from Maura's, and wrapped her hands around her mug. "Did you?"

"I don't know."

"So we try again."

Maura sighed. "I don't know if I want to. Losing Hope set me on a path that I didn't realise I was on. When we started this process I had three women I consider to be something of a mother, and I have a very different relationship with each. Losing my one biological mother has made me contemplate what motherhood really means to me. What I do know is that the last day has allowed me to further understand how I feel about alternative options. I thought I wanted a biological child. I thought it mattered to me to have a child that is genetically mine. I don't think it's as important to me now."

"Right."

"If Angela can love me regardless of an absence of genetic connection, and Hope can fail to show me love because of it, then why can't I do what Constance never could, and give a child the life they deserve when they have nobody else?"

"You talking about adoption?"

"I have a few options to explore. Adoption, fostering, surrogacy."

"Surrogacy?" Jane narrowed her eyes and retreated backward. "So, someone else would have the kid?"

"Yes, why not?"

She folded her arms across her chest. "Where does that leave us?"

"What do you mean?"

"Our plan to co-parent." Jane gritted her teeth. Maura sipped on her coffee, conscious of the displeasure emanating from Jane. "Where does that leave us? If you want to adopt, or have a surrogate, what happens to our arrangement?"

Maura smiled. "I appreciate your support and your offer to help me. I want a child, I want to give a child a life. I didn't think I could before. You've helped me to see that there are other ways."

"Yeah," Jane said, the crease deepened between her eyes. "But what about our arrangement?"

"I don't expect you to be part of alternative options," Maura said, placing her mug back on the counter.

"Even if you go for a surrogate?"

The tone of Jane's voice barely reached warm. The barrier she'd put up, her body language, and the tone of her voice suggested she wasn't happy. Maura frowned. A lump formed in the back of her throat, causing an ache so hard to bare that Maura wanted to push it aside. Instead, she pushed out the thoughts ruminating in her mind. "You're building a life for yourself, Jane. I know you and Silver didn't work out but it's only a matter of time before you find someone else. I don't want to interrupt that."

"You're not interrupting my life." Jane stood up and rested her hands on the kitchen counter away from Maura. She turned back, and stared into Maura's eyes, a hint of anger lingered. "I want to do this with you. Don't you see that? Why do you need a surrogate anyway? Why can't we just try again?"

"I don't want to." Maura's shoulders sunk. "I don't have the emotional capacity right now to deal with this again, and again, until I, inevitably, give up. Besides, given my age, it's less likely to be successful."

"Or we could try again and it might work."

"But it might not. I will not do this forever. I need to look after myself. Is that a problem?"

"No, not a problem. I get that. What's a problem is you not wanting my help. I don't understand why surrogacy is an option above other ones."

"What other options, Jane?" Maura sighed. "My options are limited. I didn't think you would want to be involved in something as complex as adoption."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Our original arrangement was for me to carry the child. I don't know if they would allow two single women to adopt a child together, and fostering is equally complicated. The only option our arrangement could continue with is surrogacy."

"That's not the only option."

"Yes it is."

Jane slammed her palm down on the counter. Maura jumped. Jane stared at her, her eyes filled with tears and her face taut. "No."

"What other option is there?" Maura softened her tone, consciously aware of how much the conversation was already affecting Jane. "I've already told you I do not want to carry the child."

"I can do it."

"You can do what?"

"I'll have the baby."

"Pardon?"

"Let me have our baby."

x

Words had left her mouth before she really thought them through. Standing in a clothing store, watching Maura shop, gave her time to consider them further. Her ability to bail on the conversation right after such a massive suggestion didn't escape her notice, she was becoming all too aware of her own shortfalls. How would she cope being pregnant? How would she handle not drinking beer for months, or taking time off active duty later on? How would she explain the situation to her mother?

"You look puzzled," Maura said, glancing over the rail.

"I'm thinking," Jane said.

"About?"

"Whether I really meant what I said."

"Do you?" Considering Jane had thrown the suggestion out there then refused to discuss it, Maura was dealing with the situation in a more methodical way. That was why it'd be better if their child could have Maura's genes, if only for the future child's intelligence. "I'd rather you think this through thoroughly. That's why I suggested we sit on it for a while."

"You had no choice," Jane said. "I practically threw us both out of the apartment."

"No," Maura replied. "But I could see you were conflicted, which is why I suggested it."

"Only after I told you I wanted to take you shopping."

"That was the biggest sign that something was wrong," Maura said, with a curve of her lips. "It's easy to say things on the spur of the moment and regret them later."

"I wouldn't say I regret it."

"You just don't know if you want to do it."

"I just needed to think some more."

She watched Maura search the rail from her place against the wall. They were completely different people who were thrown together by a common career. On paper they should not be compatible as friends, as co-parents. But Maura was her best friend, she was more than a friend. Maura was her life. She was the only person she saw when she thought about her future, and now more than ever, she wanted to do this.

Her fingers shook at her sides. She gripped her slacks and shook her head. The problem was, they were not in a relationship, and that created confusion that Jane didn't quite know how to handle. Did she want to do this because she was in love with Maura, and wanted a future with her, or did she want to do this because she wanted to co-parent with her best friend? Jane glanced away. For the briefest moment, her mind had gone in a direction she didn't allow it to go. She couldn't let her thoughts go there. It wasn't okay. All signs since the kiss pointed to the probability that Maura would never see her that way. None of that knowledge stopped her mind from drifting off to a future where she sat at the kitchen table at Maura's house, old and grey, with a grown up son.

"Are you any clearer?"

"I am." She stood up tall, her eyes fixed on Maura. Whatever the reason, however their lives panned out, she liked the idea of forever being connected to Maura. She wanted to be a parent, and she couldn't think of anyone better to share that journey with. "I wanna have our baby."

Maura narrowed her eyes and placed a jacket back onto the rail. "Right."

"That all you gotta say?"

"I don't know what else there is to say right now," Maura said. "When I came to your apartment, I didn't anticipate your willingness to have the baby."

Jane rolled her eyes and stepped forward, she crossed her arms atop the rail. "If I had to choose between some random stranger having our child, and me, I'd choose me. This is unconventional enough as it is. Why do we need to make it complicated by bringing in a surrogate? You don't wanna try again, now you don't have to."

The crease of Maura's brow deepened. "There is no fool proof option. They were merely considerations. I don't like the thought of disappointment, from any of the possibilities."

Jane gritted her teeth. "You're saying no?"

"I'm saying that I'm not against the idea, what I'm concerned about is that whether I try, or you try, or a surrogate tries, we may still suffer the same disappointing result."

"But we might not." Jane walked around the edge of the rail, her hands outstretched to Maura. She paused, and lowered her arms slightly, before resting them on her shoulders. "Isn't it at least worth a couple more tries? This could work."

"But what," Maura began.

Jane cut her off. "Stop saying what if it doesn't, what if we don't get pregnant, what if we're sad because we're disappointed. Life is full of disappointments, I should know, I've lived a lot of them. You have too. That's not a reason to give up trying, to give up hoping that we could be parents."

"You really want to do this?"

"The more I think about it, the more I want to. I thought I wouldn't get to be a mom, after everything that happened with Casey. This is our chance. Don't let fear of disappointment get in the way."

"We would need an amendment to our contract," Maura said, the corners of her mouth tugged up at the edges.

"Of course."

"We have one more sample in storage, if we need to try again, we'd have to request more."

"Not a problem."

"We have to get an ovulation test, full work ups," Maura continued with a list a mile long.

Jane rested her arms down by her sides and listened, watching her animation at the prospect of trying again. Seeing her so sad in recent weeks made it all the harder. Jane felt her heart swell at the excitement in Maura's eyes, at the glee. If she could make her that happy, all of the time...she stayed silent, distracted by the soft lips moving back and forth with every word that escaped them. She knew she should have listened, Maura expected commitment from her and right now she was ignoring every word. The only sound getting through was the melodic rhythm of Maura's voice.

"I love you," she said, the words toppling out of her upturned mouth before she could stop them.

Maura smiled back. "I love you, too. If I could have chosen any friend to have a child with, I'm glad it's you. Thank you for making this seem possible again."

No. Wrapped up in Maura's arms, Jane thought about the next words she wanted to say, the declaration she didn't realise she'd started, but couldn't quite find the words to continue. Leaving it there, with words she'd said a few times, did not sit well with her. Yet the thought of going forward, now, of all moments, was too monumental. Maura stepped back and returned to her shopping, the moment passed.