For this fic, it follows canon where Tommy is confirmed as the father. I firmly believe that Frank left Lydia after finding out about the pregnancy because he knew the baby couldn't have possibly been his.


While the name issue had yet to be resolved – Maura and Jane were still dithering between official names, because Maura wanted Isles-Rizzoli and Jane obviously wanted it the other way around. And then there was the issue of which name sounded best with which combination, and Jane all but tore out chunks of her long, dark hair in the process.

"Maura, it doesn't matter, okay? It doesn't!" she exclaimed, flailing her hands in the air that suspiciously mimicked the act of strangling the woman. "We've had him for two hours – can we at least officially establish that his mother hasn't gone off her rocker and hitched a ride to Texas or something before we start planning his college fund?!"

And so they'd left it at that.

Presently though the baby was being fed with the formula bought by Frankie (as requested by his big sister) and cuddled by Jane's mother, while Jane and Maura spoke with Frankie in the foyer. The male Rizzoli had raged a fury at the news, snorting like a bull and sputtering about dragging their Pop and Tommy by the ears over to handle this mess, but Jane had calmed the boy and gruffly told him to get in line behind her. The next time she saw either one of them; there was no telling what she'd do to them.

Frankie gave a disgruntled sigh, dressed down and looking marginally uncomfortable with the fact that their mother was holding the potential bastard child of her ex-husband. "I've got a BOLO out on Lydia, but no dice so far," he told his sister, feeling the tension coil tighter in both their shoulders. "It's like she fell off the God damn radar or somethin'!"

Jane sneered bitterly. "Yeah, she doesn't know who knocked her up, but sure, she can drop off the face of the Earth." The lanky detective jumped when Maura's hand slapped across her stomach, and Jane scowled into a begrudging silence. She huffed irritably and stomped her feet at her brother impatiently. "Did you get Tommy or what?" she demanded.

Lord help her, but she was going to castrate that hot mess of a brother of hers if he didn't learn to grow the hell up!

Frankie's shoulder raised a touch, his face flat as he regarded his sister. "Phone's dead; apartment's empty – if I didn't know any better, I'd say they skipped town together," he told her. He shook his head, scowling in disgust. Honestly; how did Tommy's mind function? Was it like that in every family? Was there always one that turned out as a convicted felon and screw-up like the youngest Rizzoli? "I swear, Janie – when I get my hands on him, I'm takin' him to the vet and gettin' him neutered."

"Damn right," Jane growled, giving the air a solid punch. She shifted on her feet, bouncing on them impatiently as she turned to Maura with wide, apologetic eyes. "I'm so sorry, Maur." Her hands came up to caress the shorter woman's elbow and arms, stroking and soothing them as she stared into Maura's confused hazel eyes. "You shouldn't have to handle all this bullshit – it's not fair to you at all." Guilt sat heavy in the detective's chest, like a boulder chained to her body as she inwardly damned herself for letting Maura take the heat for this.

"I swear to you, Maura, we'll find Lydia and Tommy, we'll get a paternity test done and we'll hand them their kid back -."

Maura jumped out of Jane's hold, stepping back as her eyes widened at the woman and her jaw dropped in protest. "Why would we give him back?" She stared incredulously at Jane, brows knitted together as she stared hard at her best friend's face and demanded an explanation that Jane could only speak of in sputters and verbal pauses. "Lydia left him with us, Jane. It's clear that she either doesn't believe she can provide for Wyatt, or that she doesn't want to. He's a Rizzoli, whether you like it or not, and he's staying with family." The Medical Examiner folded her arms stubbornly, thrust out her chin sharply at Jane and set her feet firmly in the ground.

There was no way she was budging about this decision, and there was no way Jane was going to make her.

"She's got a point, Janie," Frankie piped up, shrugging when Jane cast a withering glare his way. The Doc always had a point, but it was fun ragging on Jane when she was riled up like that.

Jane threw her hands up in exasperation, muttering under her breath at a God that she knew was laughing at the entire situation between swigs of beer and bites of his burger. She could snap at Maura; tell her this wasn't her family and that it really was none of her business what they did with the baby, but…it wouldn't be true. Not to mention that it would be cruel and heartless and vicious, and Jane Rizzoli couldn't possibly bring herself to say such a thing to Maura.

The adorably awkward Medical Examiner was an honorary Rizzoli whether Jane wanted to admit it or not.

"So where does he sleep then?" she persisted heatedly, gesturing wildly at the house. "What do we do? What do we dress him in? What do we feed him? We gave everything to Lydia already -."

"Not everything," Maura countered calmly. "There were some things left behind when we drove her to her mother's. They're all in my guest bedroom."

Struggling to resist rolling her eyes, Jane ground her teeth hard. "Well gee, there is a God after all, then," she deadpanned snidely. Ugh, couldn't they ever catch a break?

Suddenly Jane waved her hands between the three of them, as if clearing away a mist that the others could not see, and waved away Maura's befuddled expression. "Okay, okay, fine." She sighed heavily, shoulders sagging in defeat under Maura's stubborn glare and Frankie's amused smirk. She scowled at her brother. "Alright already, we're keeping him. Ain't you got somewhere else to be?" She shot him a pointed glare.

Frankie's eyebrows shot up indignantly. "What? I don't get to take a look at the little tyke? He's my er…relative too!" His mouth curled uncertainly at the title; and he smothered a shiver of disgust at thinking of the baby as his little brother. Eventually Frankie held his hands up in surrender, waving the ME's invitation away. "No, no, on second thought…s'alright. I ah…I'll come by tomorrow morning or somethin'. Get some sleep - you both look beat." He offered Maura an apologetic smile before biding them both a goodnight.

Chuckling to himself, Frankie let himself out, striding down Maura's front yard with a smile on his handsome face as he heard Jane and Maura's voices bickering at the doorway. Even if he didn't think too highly of his brother, Lydia and his father, Frankie was thankful for one thing about the baby being dropped off at Maura's doorstep.

Maybe now Jane and Maura could get a clue about what was so painfully obvious to the rest of the world.


Jane trudged into the house again, slouching heavily as she dragged her sore feet down the hall into the bathroom to clean up. It was an unspoken acknowledgement that she was spending the night at Maura's – the poor ME had been through enough for one day, and Jane was set on keeping the honey blonde within sight at all times. Not that Maura minded at all, really; she enjoyed Jane's company in her home and in her bed, if only for the warm body to cuddle up next to.

She washed up, burning the remnants of the day off her skin until she was pink and slightly cooked, and tossed her clothes into the laundry basket under the bathroom sink. Jane sighed as she leaned against the marble bath counter, staring at her misty reflection and letting the damp air settle on her skin. To call it a shit day would be putting it mildly; Jane couldn't count the times she'd stared death in the face, drove a bullet through her own gut, brought it down to its knees and plunged a scalpel through its chest – none of it had ever put such fear and terror in her body than it had when Maura was involved.

Every time the blonde was threatened; every time some crazy lunatic got his smarmy hands on the perfectly put-together ME – it made Jane's stomach leaden and her heart lodge in her throat. It made her mind cloudy and unfocused, it made her see Maura and only Maura in her mind's eyes – how to get to Maura, how to save Maura. It gave her nightmares to this day; Hoyt finishing what he promised to, or all the other crazy sons of bitches she'd had to beat into submission for laying a finger on her Maura.

Her Maura.

When did it get to this?

Jane sighed, running her fingers through her damp curls, already drying out into an unruly tangled mass, and sagged into the bath counter. She was exhausted. She was sure Maura was too. It wasn't supposed to happen like this – she wasn't supposed get caught in the middle and Lydia's baby should not have gotten left at their doorstep. If she had just beaten that jerkoff into a pulp when she had the chance –

Don't, Jane. This wasn't your fault and you know it.

Jane let out a displeased grunt, glaring hard at her reflection. The voice in her head sounded suspiciously like Maura's melodic tone, and though she tried hard; Jane couldn't even deny imaginary Maura. "Whipped, Rizzoli," she growled at her reflection, scowling. "You are so whipped."

Whipped by her best friend and only other consistent person in her life, but whipped nonetheless.

Funnily enough though; Jane didn't seem all that shook up about it. What she was more concerned about though was the fact that her mother and Maura were getting attached to a baby she wasn't sure they could handle. Having Maura in her life had already put the ME in more danger than she cared to remember, but adding a baby to the equation – Jane groaned inwardly, laying her head on her folded arms.

"Strap on a pair, Rizzoli," she grumbled to herself, muffled into her skin as she dragged her head off her arm and forced herself to straighten on her feet. "Until either Lydia or Tommy get a clue about where their lives are going, you're pulling diaper duty with Maura."

Could they do this? Could they really play 'happy family' and raise a baby? They weren't a couple – despite what the rest of the world believed – and they weren't even anywhere near thinking about having kids of their own! Could they really juggle jobs like theirs and make time to bring up a kid without turning him into a sociopathic serial killer?

Apparently Maura thought so, and that was good enough for Jane?

Hey, look on the bright side. At least you don't have to breastfeed it.

Jane scowled at the voice, slamming the bathroom door shut as images of Maura's bare chest began to fill her mind. "You're killing me," she hissed, and Maura paused outside the bathroom door when she began to hear a repetitive thudding of something hard against the walls of her bathroom.


By the time she'd ambled out of the bathroom, dressed in sweats and a tank top as always and nursing a pounding headache, Jane was stopped in her steps towards the bed when her dark eyes fell upon the flawless honey blonde seated at the edge of the bed. Her dark eyes tracked along Maura's body, the legs bare under the silk robe that wrapped so suggestively around her body that Jane was sure it was tailor-made for the ME.

The fine silk parted at the chest, a revealing split flashing the pale skin of Maura's lace-encased breast at the detective like a wink as Maura shifted the bundle in her arms and turned to Jane, her pretty mouth splitting into a languid smile at the sight of the detective.

She had undressed while Jane had showered – the taller woman rarely ever used the guest room now –, and while waiting for Jane to finish, thought to spend some time with the gurgling baby. Wyatt was an exceptionally quiet baby, and though he felt somewhat small to Maura, seemed to be a perfectly healthy baby. Just to be sure though, she made a mental note to bring Wyatt in for a check-up tomorrow.

Jane perched herself at Maura's side, balancing carefully as she gave Maura a small smile, eyes warming despite herself as she stared down at the honey blonde's upturned face. "He okay?" she asked quietly, leaning over slightly to gaze down at Wyatt's peacefully slumbering face.

"He's surprisingly a very quiet boy," Maura told her best friend, shifting to lift Wyatt in her hands as she shifted him into a startled Jane's arms. "Babies are commonly very compliant for the first few weeks of their lives. Aside from crying when hungry or soiled, they're mostly content with being held or asleep. Newborns can sleep about twenty minutes to four hours at a time, depending on their maturity. Pre-mature babies usually sleep less due to their slightly under-developed stomachs; they get hungrier easier."

Through the barrage of information being thrown at her, Jane had settled Wyatt comfortably into her arms and was rocking the baby slightly as she stared up at Maura with an expression that bordered affectionate irritation. It was good to see Maura back to her old self; she didn't even mind the Google-mouthing that much, if it put such a pleased look on the blonde's face. Even Wyatt seemed to be enjoying Maura's rambling.

"Look at that," Jane said suddenly; showing the baby to Maura when Wyatt jerked his head at her direction, flailing his arms slightly and curling them back into his body. A grin split her mouth so wide it nearly hurt, and Jane's eyes were sparkling when they met Maura's. "He's recognizing your voice already." She cuddled Wyatt closer to her chest, sliding her finger into the baby's hand and laughing quietly when he clung onto it tightly. "You're a smart little fella, aren't ya?"

"He's reacting on reflex," Maura corrected her, and shrugged innocently when Jane rolled her eyes at her. "It's true." She rose from the bed, sliding a hand along Jane's thigh gently as she went, smiling at the lanky woman when Jane made a face at her. "Alright, so perhaps he's more… responsive than most newborns," she conceded finally, turning on her heels to glide gracefully into the bathroom.

"That's because he's a Rizzoli," Jane called out to her, grinning when Maura paused at the bathroom doorway to raise an eyebrow.

Even through the lighting of the bathroom and her side profile, Jane could see Maura's eyes narrowing benevolently at her. "He's a Rizzoli-Isles, and he's just spit-up on you."

"Aw, come on!"

The smile that graced Maura's face could only be described as triumphantly pleased as she walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.