Fill in the blanks" is a set of short stories, one per episode of the series.

There will be a FF Story published per Season, with one Chapter per Episode within that FF Story.

I try to stick to canon as much as I can. Only the fics set after 7x13 or before 1x01 and published outside of the "Fill in the blanks" series might deviate from canon and follow solely my imagination.

Every story was written after I've watched all 105 episodes of all 7 seasons.

I try to remain true to the original storyline of that episode, to the storyline of the characters up to that point, and trying to keep coherent not to contradict facts that are learned in future episodes, and just "fill in the blanks" for missing bits and pieces I wish would have happened or made into screen time.

Some of the episodes triggered me to write longer stories, some very short ones, I don't follow a recipe. The procedural part of the show (crime investigation) is not what I focus on, all the stories focus on character's interactions and/or tidbits of dialogue.

In every chapter you will recognize either direct quotes from the show's dialogue, or reference to them. In the cases I use the exact words, I try to mark them in italics to make it easier to recognize.

ALERT: If you have not watched the show yet, there might be spoilers.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Rizzoli & Isles nor any of the characters from the show. I am writing this purely for entertainment, not profit. Rizzoli and Isles are property of Tess Gerritsen and TNT.

I am not a native English speaker, and I don't have a beta. So all mistakes are 100% mine.

Enough of disclaimers and warnings – read at your own risk. Reviews are always welcome!

Season 3 – Episode 1 "What doesn't kill you"

"I am going with you." Angela determined. It was not a question. It was a statement.

Jane was not sure why she felt like bringing her mother with her in this quest on the cemetery.

Maybe because Angela had collaborated showing her the drawing even though she was afraid Jane would destroy it.

Maybe it was because Jane felt guilty for having removed her mother from Maura's guesthouse. Not only her mother was alone now. Maura was back to being alone, and Jane hated herself for having triggered that: Maura alone to handle her mother in the hospital, her father in the hospital, her house burglarized – Korsak and Frankie had mentioned to Jane the state of Maura's house.

Looking back, Jane realized an immature side of her had expected Maura to concede, to pull back, to apologize the moment Jane threatened to remove Angela from her. Jane couldn't conceive Maura had the right to be pissed up at her.

And Jane lashed out, badly, viciously.

Problem was that Maura didn't know how to play that game. She was hurt and hurting, but she couldn't be vicious. She had even began an apology to Jane in the hospital before things went sour again. Maura could always fight with words, but it was like a teenage fight compared to the way Jane fought. Jane knew she had the advantage in that fight, and somehow it didn't give her any satisfaction. All she wanted was to find a way back.

Jesus, Jane thought, how everything had derailed so fast. Her best friend was hurting, in danger, hated her and would never forgive her. And Jane, as bad as she felt for Maura, was sure she had done nothing wrong, just her job. It was fucked up.

Maybe it was because Jane needed a good excuse to be in the cemetery, and her mom would provide one. Jane was not back to Homicide, and could not use other resources or count on backup until then. Angela was a cover up, and a backup.

And maybe, just maybe, Jane anticipated that the same pang of pain and anticipation she had felt last night confronting Constance would repeat itself today. A pang Jane would give anything to share with Maura, but knew she couldn't. Not right now. Not yet.

Regardless of the reasoning, Angela was with Jane, scanning tombstones at the cemetery.

They walked slowly through the cemetery. Jane was not sure what she would be looking for. She had the picture and the drawing of the gravestone. But not what was written in it. Which name had they given to the baby they pretended to be dead. Which date? Maura had mentioned, when she first told Jane she was adopted, that she would never know for sure if her birthdate was even correct.

So Jane walked, intendedly, through rows and rows of tombstones. Anything resembling the format of the tombstone in picture or the drawing, she would stop and check. The one thing she thought she could rely on was the year of birth and death, 1976.

It was humbling to walk through the cemetery. So many names. Her mind automatically calculated the ages for all the tombstones she read. Some so young, Jane could not stop wondering the ephemerality of it all. Ephemerality. A word Maura used a lot. Maura… Jane missed Maura.

Until her eyes finally locked in a tombstone, and she felt her knees going weak.

"Baby Maura Doyle. Born August 7 1976. Died August 7 1976. Safe from all earthly harm."

The pang in Jane's chest was not for a dead baby. Her eyes welled in tears thinking this could very well be the tombstone of her best friend. The person who was not even speaking to her now. And the sense of loss and grief were just magnified. Jane kneeled in front of the tombstone, her mother approaching her.

"Paddy told everyone that Maura and her mother had died. What if Maura's mother is still alive?"

Her mom kneeled beside her.

"I think a parent would do anything to keep his child safe."

"Even lie to the woman he loved and tell her baby died?"

Angela hugged her sideways and kissed her temple. Jane felt comforted. "Even that."

Jane sighed, feeling her chest hurt. Thinking of how this new development would impact Maura. And thinking how she would even tell Maura now that Maura didn't want to have anything to do with Jane. Messed up.

But Jane's detective mind began to work. Her hand sneaked beneath the flowers, under the base of the tombstone, and her mother admonished her. "Jane…"

"Shh, Ma."

Jane got a hold of the book. The book that was the key to proving her innocence and hopefully putting Doyle behind bars. And to identify who the hell was behind trying to frame her.

(…)

Jane had not seen Maura in a couple days, and she almost didn't recognize her. She looked gorgeous, as usual. But her tired sad tortured eyes told a completely different story. Jane wished they could find common ground. Jane wished they could wipe these past few days. Go back to where they were immediately before the shooting. The playful banter preparing for the undercover, the closeness of their friendship of being the first person they thought about when they needed help.

"I want to know something. Would you have shot her?" Jane observed curiously as Maura inquired Paddy.

"Hell yeah." He replied, without a beat, his voice still weak.

"You're a cop." He continued, eyeing Jane.

Jane had never doubted it. That was why she had taken the shot, she knew Paddy would have shot her, or Frost. But Maura had been the reason why she had not shot to kill him. Jane was only glad that in the entire investigation, nobody had asked why her shot had not been to kill. Anyone who knew of her precision when shooting would have questioned it. But thankfully, they didn't.

She watched Maura's reaction register. Even if Paddy's original intention might have been to be in that warehouse to protect Maura, if push came to shove, he would have shot the police like he had shot the FBI. He would have shot Jane. Or Frost. Or both.

And Jane decided this momentary truce was an opportunity – Jane needed to tell Maura about what she had found in the cemetery.

"I got something I need to show you."

Maura walked a few steps outside of the cubicle, and then she stopped. Jane saw Maura hesitate, divided between following her, or ignoring her and sending her away.

One side of Jane was angry that Maura even thought about hesitating in following her. Jane had been loyal to a fault, put her career at risk, Paddy had just confirmed that he would have shot at Jane, and Maura was still unsure if she could trust Jane and follow her to something Jane needed to show her? It hurt. But Jane's empathic side won. She tried to put herself on Maura's shoes, and could only begin to imagine how lost Maura was in the middle of so many nuances, unwritten rules, and socially dependent situations, all in the midst of finding such profound information like her parentage, something she had searched for her entire life.

"It is about you. What I need to show you. It is about you, not me." Jane insisted.

That seemed to finally push Maura into action, and she followed Jane.

Jane took her own car, and told Maura curtly to meet her on the side entrance of the Boston Cemetery.

After having walked most of the cemetery with her mom, Jane knew that entrance was the one closer to the supposed grave of baby Maura.

Jane arrived first and stood out of the car. Maura was right behind her, and she stopped a few feet away from Jane, eyeing her, without speaking.

Jane decided not to say anything as well. Things were messed up enough the way they were. She just turned on her heels and walked into the cemetery, hearing Maura's heels a few steps behind her.

When she reached the tombstone, she stopped to the side of it. She looked at Maura as she approached, and signed with her chin towards the tombstone.

Maura slowed down, as if afraid of what to expect.

Jane knew what would be next. She had felt it herself when she had been there before. She heard Maura gasp and still a sob, delicately kneeling and sitting over the balls of her heels, as she cried looking at that tombstone.

A lie. A lie that had defined Maura's entire life. The entire life of a person who could not lie. Ironic. Sad. Tragic. Jane wanted to kneel down by Maura's side. Pass her arm around Maura's shoulder. Wait for Maura to rest her head in the crook of Jane's neck. Comfort Maura.

Instead, Jane stood there, hands in the pockets of her navy blue evidence uniform jacket, moving from one foot to the other, doing nothing to help.

"I always wondered why she never looked for me." Maura said, as if to no one, musing out aloud.

Jane itched to strike a conversation. To crouch by her side, be at eye level, and convey to her that it was okay to feel lost, but that she was not alone. But she couldn't do that, and Maura's tone didn't open that space.

"Is there anything I can do?" Jane offered. She didn't want to mess things even further by assuming anything at this point.

"Please go."

Those two words cut deep like knifes into Jane's heart. Maura never had asked her to leave her before, to go away. Whenever she asked Jane to go, it was to do something, to get something, to resolve something. Not these two definitive words, no continuation attached.

Jane began walking. At least that she could do, as much as it hurt her, Jane could leave.

"Wait."

Jane turned, hopeful. Maura would let her help in any way?

"There is one thing. Tell Pike I want my chair back."

Jane continued walking. It was still 'Please go'. But there was a do something in the end. Maura was coming back. Maybe, just maybe, they could find a continuation attached at some point in the future. Jane could only hope.

Jane walked to her car and sat inside. She couldn't wait to get back, dump her evidence kakis and jacket, and go back to her homicide detective routine. But it was only a couple of hours later, when she finally saw Maura standing from the grave and smoothing her clothes before starting walking back the path to her car, that Jane finally turned the ignition on her own car to leave.