I aim to take full advantage of my short summer and post the shit out of everything because I go back to a shitty semester in the Fall.

Pray for me, children. I have made a terrible mistake.

Meanwhile Angela Rizzoli wants more grandchildren made under legal terms i.e lawfully wedded spouses.


Angela Rizzoli liked to think of herself as a very blessed woman. She may not have been the richest, or well-traveled, but she had a beautiful, happy, healthy family whom she loved as deeply as any mother did. She had a roof over her head, a job to make a living by, and a family she'd raised waiting for her at home. Now she may have also been a little…lapsed, let's say, with her practice in religion, but Angela believed in living life with good morals, a family, and somebody to love.

And if that person you loved happened to be someone of the same sex…so what?

Love was love, and it came in all shapes and colors and sizes.

It was this thought that occurred to the mother of three as she stepped into the kitchen from Maura's guesthouse, fussing with the bag of ciabatta rolls she'd saved for her only daughter. She'd bustled through the kitchen at first, making her way into the living room, when the sight that greeted her stopped her in her steps as good as concrete could.

Sleeping there, peacefully, comfortably, happily together on the good doctor's luxurious couch, were Jane and Maura. Pressed into each other with Maura tucked comfortably into Jane's side, the women were well into their slumber; Jane with one arm wrapped possessively around Maura's waist and the other sprawled over her eyes to keep the light from getting at her. Maura hummed contentedly in her sleep, pressed on her side into Jane's chest and resting her head there peacefully as she fisted the taller woman's tank top in her hand.

Her leg had found itself tucked between Jane's, and Jane had one leg bent up against the leg there with the other dangling off the edge of the couch – it didn't look anything near comfortable, but Angela couldn't remember another time when she'd seen either of the women look so at peace.

It frightened her.

Of course it did – she couldn't help but be frightened; she had no experience with such circumstances. Sure, Jane had always been a little more masculine than she'd liked, but it couldn't be helped – coming from a family of boys. No matter how hard she tried, Jane was adamant on hating everything feminine and girly. But Jane had her fair share of crushes in school though; Angela remembered times when the girl would painstakingly force herself into pretty dresses and make-up, just so she could get the boys to like her back. There had never been any outward expression of her preference to her gender, until Maura came along.

She and Maura had always been close; even if their friendship had begun on somewhat rocky terms, the blonde was good for Janie – she made Jane a better person, in Angela's opinion. She never asked for Jane to be anyone but herself, but Jane always tried hard to impress and do right by Maura. Even without asking for anything; Janie went that extra mile just to keep the good doctor happy.

And it wasn't one-sided either - Jane did the same for Maura too. When Angela first met the pretty doctor, she was all kinds of awkward and uncomfortable with being around people. She didn't have siblings and her parents were out of the country, the poor thing. She was all alone up in her big and beautiful house, except for her big tortoise fella. But with Jane around, Maura learned what it was like to have a family around that loved and cared for her. She was an honorary Rizzoli like she was always meant to be one.

They were good for each other.

And no matter how much she wished things were different, Angela realized then…why everything made so much more sense.

You can't help who you love.

Well, the woman thought as she made her way as discreetly as possible across the living room, smothering a giddy grin. I sure hope you're not as blind as your Ma, Janie, because I'd hate to be the one to knock the sense into you if you ever let her go.

The next thought that came to her was that if Jane and Maura adopted Wyatt, he would legally be her grandson – the first of many, God willing. With all that fancy science things, they could definitely have more, couldn't they?

Maybe this time I'll really get a doctor in the family!


Something was tickling her nose.

Jane wrinkled her nose away from the source, groaning quietly in her sleep as she turned away from the little bristles brushing against her chin and mouth; curling her arm in closer and pulling Maura to her chest. Her mouth relaxed into a pleased smile as she felt Maura curl up into her chest and neck, humming in her throat as the familiar scent of vanilla musk and the core sweetness of Maura's own scent filled her senses. Ah, this was the life….

"Mm…Jane?"

She grunted lowly, cracking an eye open at the sleepy voice. Glancing down at her chest, Jane couldn't help the crooked smile on her face at the sight of Maura's adorably sleep-hazed face peering up at her. "Hey." The husky gravel of her voice wrought a shudder up Maura's spine, and Jane felt it ride along the curves of her spine beneath her hand. She smirked lazily at the blonde. "You cold, Maur?" she rumbled teasingly, pulling the woman even tighter to her body as Maura stared at her.

Maura felt her grip tighten on Jane's tank top as she stared up at the tanned woman's hooded eyes and lopsided grin. "Hard to be cold when I have a personal heater around me," she murmured then, and it took a moment for the woman to realize what she'd just said. True to her words, Maura's cheeks flamed hot, flaring a dim pink, to the brunette's delight and the blonde's horror.

Jane's eyes narrowed affectionately as she looked down at the woman in her arms, chuckling low in her throat as she shifted upright on the couch, taking Maura with her. With her arm still wrapped rather possessively around the ME's waist, Jane stretched out her free hand over her head, stretching out her limbs all the way down to her toes as she felt her body realign as necessary. Humming in content, Jane settled into a lazy smile, releasing the woman reluctantly as Maura pushed off her chest to sit up and began flexing her neck left and right to get the stiffness out of the limb.

"How long were we out?" Jane mumbled, stifling a yawn as she did, glancing over the back of the couch at the kitchen clock. As her eyes settled on the numbered face though, Angela appeared in the doorway, Wyatt in her arms and a blissful smile on her face.

"Good morning, sleeping beauties," she sang at them, smiling wider at Jane's scowl as she shifted Wyatt in her arms and moved around the kitchen counter. "I was wondering when you two would rise from the dead – I was just about to heat up dinner." Almost reluctantly she placed Wyatt into Maura's waiting arms, stepping back and watching with maternal pride as the blonde cooed and cuddled the baby to her. Turning to her daughter, Angela gave Jane a look that confused the woman. "Frankie and Tommy are coming over for dinner."

Jane's eyes went wide, panicked as she darted a glance at where Maura sat up straight at the mention of her youngest brother's name. "Uh, Ma, about Tommy…." She swallowed hard, eyes begging Maura for some sort of help or explanation to give her mother. Christ, with all that Frankie and Frank had done to screw up things, it was a miracle Angela hadn't in some way lost her mind – Jane certainly was.

"We tested a comparison of Wyatt and Tommy's DNA today," Maura supplied the older woman, tucking Wyatt closer to her as Angela stared at them. Exhaling nervously, her eyes sought Jane's – an instinct for reassurance. When she found it in the tense but adamant gaze of the detective, Maura inhaled sharply; bracing herself. "Wyatt is Tommy's."

There they sat; she and Jane on either sides of the couch, watching Angela with an apprehensive breath held between them. Jane watched her mother keenly, feeling her stomach coil in preparation for an eruption of noise and wails and demands of how her youngest son could be so foolish – oh, how could he do this to me, Janie? How could he hurt me like this? What's gonna happen to Wyatt, Janie? How is he gonna be a father to him?

It stunned them both when Angela turned to them calmly, leaning against the island counter. "Okay," she said shortly, as her eyes hardened and zeroed in onto the sleep-tousled pair. "So what're you gonna do about it, Jane?" she demanded instead. Bewildered and caught off-guard, Jane began to sputter, grasping at any line of conversation she could to answer her mother and draw all attention away from the responsibility that Angela had just placed onto her bony shoulders. Angela was adamant though, and glared at her daughter when Jane whirled desperately from a speechless Maura back to her.

"We saw this coming, didn't we? All of us." She glanced pointedly at Maura. "Point is, Janie; we can't just leave Tommy to take care of Wyatt all by himself, or ever let that little hussy come crawling back to – to snatch him from us!" Angela rounded the counter, hands planted firmly on her hips as she addressed them with a determined huff. "I am not going to let anyone take away my grandson from me, no matter who it is. Tommy or Lydia; it's clear to me that that little boy's mother didn't want nothin' to do with him already – so why should we keep her in the equation?"

Maura glanced at Jane, troubled and thoughtful. In her arms and against her chest, Wyatt wriggled and cooed impatiently – she'd come to recognize his various urges for food or burping or a diaper change. He was hungry again, and she would have to feed him soon before he decided to make his complaints known more insistently. She hugged him closer to her and shifted on the couch. "We don't know that for sure," she countered gently, though it was clear by the scowl that Jane was casting at her that she believed otherwise. "Lydia might have been afraid. Caring for an infant is frightening to do as a single parent – she's so young," she said, and rose to her feet seamlessly while draping Wyatt over her shoulder.

Jane surged to her feet silently, trailing after Maura almost like second nature then as she helped Maura settled Wyatt's formula. The commands and requests were wordless but familiar; Angela watched silently as they moved fluidly between each other, weaving between limbs or bodies – Maura cradling Wyatt gently in the nook of her arm and Jane draping a burping cloth over her shoulder and grasping the bottle in her hand.

"C'mere, little man," she murmured, taking the baby from Maura and settling him comfortably into her elbow before addressing her mother. With a weary sigh, Jane's shoulders seemed to slump in defeat at the sight of Angela's stubborn frown; Maura thought it best to distract herself with dinner while the Rizzoli women hashed things out. "Ma, Tommy's gonna be Wy's father whether we like it or not," she stated plainly; shifting the bottle in hand as Wyatt suckled hungrily. "Knowing that Tommy is his biological father means that if Lydia decides at any moment to pop back in and take him, she could – 'cause all she'd done was leave the little man with family." The scowl deepened on Jane's face, as the flames burned stronger in her dark eyes.

"But if we figured a way to legally keep him ours; take away her rights as his mother –." Jane shrugged, bouncing slightly in place as Maura worked around her to settle dinner. "Maybe we wouldn't have screwed this up as badly as we thought."

Angela watched them silently for a long moment, a frown marring her face as she seemed to give this some very serious considerations. Finally she huffed, and gestured between the two women – where Maura was holding out a spoon for Jane to taste the sauce for the chicken cacciatore. "Well, can't the two of you adopt him or somethin'?" she asked them innocently, peering expectantly at their faces. "You're his aunt, Jane – if you adopt Wyatt, he'd still be a Rizzoli but then Maura could be his mother!"

If she was being honest with herself, watching Jane and Maura vary from losing all color in their faces to burning bright shades of pink was amusing to no end, but Angela kept her poker face on and glared stubbornly at them as they stammered out incredulous excuses and denials. It made sense, didn't it? Of course it did – that was why they were fighting it so hard!

Although, Jane seemed to have a bit of a problem getting over a particularly sore subject her mother had mentioned. "Why am I the Dad?!" Jane exclaimed, oblivious to the way Maura flinched at the shrill tone of her voice. Honestly, it was like everyone thought she was a lesbian! A butch lesbian, at that! She threw her free hand up, glancing from Maura to Angela incredulously before shaking her head in disbelief again. They were conspiring against her, she was sure!

"Know what, no – nuh uh." She held out a hand between them, pulling Wyatt closer to her as she struggled to keep her temper in check and to somehow remain the voice of reason in all this. Okay, they've told Angela, and for some reason, she was taking it a lot better than they'd anticipated. Fine, great even. That meant less worries on the Rizzoli forefront. Now she was more worried about Lydia and Tommy. Finally she set her dark eyes on them sternly, narrowing her eyes in warning at Angela when she looked away guiltily. "We are not getting into this now, alright? We've got to figure out what Tommy wants to do about this too."

Heaving a breath, Jane draped Wyatt carefully over her shoulder, patting the infant's back gently. Smiling quietly when the boy gave a loud belch, Jane exhaled heavily. "Look, for all we know, Tommy might actually want to be part of Wyatt's life." Something in Jane's face told them that she had no plans for making that reality. "We'll sit him down tonight, talk him through this; if he's got a brain in that head of his, he'll be smart about figuring out what he wants to do about this," she stated firmly, ending the conversation with a stern nod.

Angela and Maura shared an uncertain look, the latter frowning as she regarded the Italian detective rocking the baby in her arms. Even if Maura had to reluctantly concede that Jane made sense, the ME saw something in Angela's eyes that made it clear that whatever intentions that the mother of three had behind all this, it had some direct connection to the fact that she'd walked in on them asleep on the couch. It was hard to read exactly how Angela felt about it; the woman was already busy bustling about the kitchen and shooing them out of it to set the table and to put Wyatt down to help.

With a thoughtful sigh, Maura bent to extract the dishes from her cupboard, and hoped that whatever it was that set roiling heat in her stomach at the touch of Jane's fingers against her skin as she took the plates from her would simply dwindle down for dinner.

They had more things to worry about than the growing connections she seemed to be making with her best friend.


Maura was wrong.

Dinner was driving her insane.


And you're all going to have to wait to figure out why. /runs away