Chapter 3 for your viewing pleasure. Let me know what y'all are thinking. Will our girls make it through?

Jane regrets shouting for Maura to stay as soon as Frankie is swallowed up by the warmth of the house, and the two women are left staring at one another awkwardly. The Agent has her arms crossed in front of her, still wearing Frankie's jacket, and she is stubbing her foot at the snow on the walkway, trying to figure out what to say. Maura is watching her, her pale face glowing in the dark, her eyes shining in the reflected light of the hanging Christmas lights.

"I-," Jane starts. But that's about as far as she gets. She doesn't know how to talk to the doctor anymore.

"Jane," and the way the blonde says her name, soft and lilting, the same way she used to, turns Jane's insides to mush.

"I'm sorry for being here tonight, for ruining your Christmas Eve," the blonde apologizes nervously.

"S'okay," Jane settles on. "You didn't ruin it."

Maura looks slightly thankful at the admission. "I tried to get out of it. When your mother informed that you would be coming. But-"

"You didn't have anywhere else to go. I get it." Jane cuts her off, and Maura looks as though she has been slapped.

"No, I suppose not," she affirms shakily.

"I just- Goddammit!" Jane spun on her heel and took a few solid steps away, needing the distance, the space to compose herself. "I wasn't expecting to see you is all."

"I know."

She knows Maura is looking at her, studying her. "You look good, Jane."

Jane hunches her shoulders defensively. She wants to say, Thank you. So do you. Better than good. But she is still reeling from the fact that Maura is there at all, that they are attempting a civil conversation. So instead, she spits out, "What do you care?" She can picture Maura's reaction to her words: a step back, and then she'd straighten her spine, pull herself up to her full height, face set in a determined scowl, masking the tears in her eyes. Yes, that is the scene playing out behind her; she doesn't need to turn around.

"I suppose that I-I don't," Maura snaps, but Jane can hear the lie there. The doctor can't really lie, not truly, but when she is mad, hurt, she can force herself into a half truth, a white lie.

"Well, good," Jane responds, bitch mode fully activated. "It's not your place to care. You gave up that right long ago."

There is silence from the porch.

"Jesus, Maur!" Jane whips back around. And stops because Maura looks absolutely lovely standing there with snowflakes falling into her honey blonde curls, her head cocked defiantly in the agent's direction. She looks just as beautiful as she did all those years ago. Jane shakes her head angrily. She doesn't think about Maura that way anymore. That's behind her. It's the past.

"I just wanted to get through this holiday. See the family and move on. Not have to deal with any of this shit. Any of this drama."

"With me."

"Exactly!"

"With us."

Jane's hackles are up automatically at that word. She clenches her jaw, "There is no us."

Maura seems to shrink several inches at the ice in the brunette's voice. "No, I-I know that. It's not what I mea-"

"You made damn sure there was no more us. You didn't want there to be any more us," Jane is practically choking on the words.

"I know, Jane. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Yeah," Jane scoffs. "Sure."

"I am, Jane. Please."

"It's a bit late for apologies, Maura. A decade too late really." There are tears running down Maura's cheeks now, but Jane can feel the fury building in her, the fire is consuming her, and she doesn't have the strength to fight it anymore. "What are you even doing here? This isn't your family, Maura!" It's a lie, but she can't take it back. "This is my family. Mine! You don't belong here!" She doesn't know where the anger has come from. "My first time back in Boston in three years. Three fucking years! And of course you show up! Of course you do," the agent hears the horrible words leaving her mouth, the selfish words, but she can't stop. "You shouldn't be here. You don't belong here. I do. Not you!"

She finally cuts herself off, her knuckles are digging into her palms, leaving little crescent moon marks, and she can hear the blood rushing through her head. Maura is shaking in her place on the porch, but she doesn't refute it. She doesn't argue, even as the tears freeze on her cheeks. Jane forces herself to calm down, counting to ten, and then again, until her breathing finally slows and she can relax her fists.

"Sorry," she mutters, suddenly embarrassed, stricken at the heartbroken look on Maura's face. "That wasn't true, Maura. I'm sorry. I just - I never see them, and I feel like they're forgetting about me, you know? I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm sorry," she moves closer to the porch, reaching out a hand, but letting it fall again when Maura doesn't move except to wipe at her tears. "I'm sorry, Maur."

"No," and the doctor's voice is surprisingly steady. "You're right; they're not my family."

"Yes, they are," Jane sighs. "They are your family. And they love you. They love you just like I- like I used," Jane pretends not to see Maura flinch on the word, "used to love you."

Maura glances back at the closed door, the sound of carol singing just reaching them through the wood and thin glass window panes. "I shouldn't have come, Jane. I'll get my things and go."

But the agent takes a quick leap forward, catching Maura's sleeve in her hand to stop her, "Don't go." She lets go immediately, holding her hands up in surrender. "Please. Don't go. I'm sorry that I was a bitch. You belong here. Don't leave."

The doctor's hazel eyes take in Jane's contrite appearance and she finally nods her ascent. "Alright."

The two are back to staring at one another. Jane feels that it's her turn to break the silence. "So, ah, how are you?" She punches herself internally. It's not her place to ask, to care, but, now that they are alone, she finds that she desperately wants to know. She doesn't want Maura to go back inside and for them to spend the rest of the holiday pretending that the other doesn't exist.

Maura glares at her, but relents a little. "I'm...alright. Work is keeping me busy."

And Jane nods. "Yeah, yeah, me too."

"I believe Vince is getting ready to retire in the spring."

"Yeah, that's what Frankie said." Anther pause. "Well, I, that is, it looks like you and Annie get along pretty well."

Maura's face lights up at the mention of the little girl. "She's wonderful, isn't she?"

"Yeah. Yeah she is. A spitfire."

"Mhmm! She's absolutely delightful. I greatly enjoy our time together."

"Looks like it," Jane manages to keep any hint of jealousy out of her tone. "I always knew you'd be great with kids. I mean, you were a natural with TJ after he was born," but the mention of babies has Maura staring at her shoes, and Jane blushes and looks away. Crap.

"Jane, I-"

"No, I get it. Sorry I brought it up."

"Jay," Maura claps her hand over her mouth at the nickname, but Jane chooses to ignore it.

"I knew I'd get to say, I told you so, to the great Doctor Isles someday," Jane jokes, attempting to lighten the mood. It doesn't work.

"I regret it," Maura's whispered confession is so quiet, Jane is sure she's misheard. "Everyday."

"Maura," Jane warns.

"I do, Jay," the blonde is staring at her, her words seeming to pierce straight through the layers Jane has on, searing into her skin. "And I'm sorry for it. Everyday."

"I put it behind me, Maur. I moved on," Jane tries to sound nonchalant.

"I know that. So did I, I suppose. We both did. But that doesn't mean I don't miss you."

"Maura," it's a plea now. Jane is begging the other woman to stop, to be quiet.

"Your family," Maura indicates the house, "They've been so wonderful. So good to me. But, it's extremely difficult to be around them sometimes. Especially around Annie. She's so much like you. She reminds me so much of you, Jay," her voice cracks on the final syllable.

"Maur," Jane has stepped forward and is reaching out, pulling Maura into her arms as the other woman begins to sob. "Maura, Maura, Maura." It is a chant now. The doctor rests her head on Jane's chest, giving into the embrace, and Jane shifts so they are closer. She can't help but revel at the way Maura sinks into her. It's different than their last embrace was. Their bodies have changed, but they still seem to fit together as they did back then, just as perfectly. It feels wonderful to have the doctor close. Jane breathes in Maura's scent, her vanilla shampoo, her perfume, still the same as it was ten years before. She doesn't say anything, just stands there holding the woman she used to love, waiting for Maura to regain control, to stop the flood of her tears.

All too soon, the doctor is pulling away and Jane releases her grip automatically, missing the feeling immediately. "I'm sorry," Maura mumbles, still sniffling.

"S'fine," Jane shrugs and sticks her hands into her pocket in order to keep herself from reaching out again.

"That was - It was highly irregular behavior," Maura explains.

"It's okay, Maur. Really. I get it," and she does.

"My reasons," she pauses and Jane indicates that she understands, "they're still reasons."

Jane lets out a whoosh of air. "I know that."

"Did you ever-" Maura looks up at her shyly, "ever consider having kids? Afterwards, I mean."

But Jane is shaking her head. "No. I was busy at first. I didn't have the time. And then, well, what agency in their right mind would give a kid to a single woman who gets shot at for a living?"

"There's still time," the doctor responds.

"I'm 45," Jane shrugs again. "No point now. Besides I -" she breaks off.

Maura waits patiently.

"I didn't really want kids with anyone except for you anyway." It's the first time she's ever admitted it to herself. The first time she's put into words the fact that the major reason she never tried for kids afterwards was because, without Maura at her side, she couldn't picture it. Couldn't see herself as a mother.

"I'm so sorry, Jane. I'm sorry I couldn't give that to you."

Jane shrugs again. "You didn't want kids. I get it."

"You would have made a wonderful mother, Jay. A child would have been lucky to have you."

"Same with you," the agent insists. But it is tired, an argument they've had many times in the past. Too many times. And Maura takes a step back, reclaiming her space.

"Yes, well. Tommy and Lydia have been great with the kids. I watch them on Thursdays."

"Our days," Jane interrupts and then wants to slap herself.

"And it's enough for me," Maura continues on. "They're wonderful."

Jane couldn't help but agree, thinking fondly of her niece and nephew.

"TJ appears to be hitting his teenage rough patch. Tommy is at his wits' end with him. But, I keep telling him it's most likely due to a simply hormonal imbalance. He'll grow out of it."

"Yeah, well. The Rizzoli's aren't really know for their easy teenage years," Jane laughed lightly. "We all went through that rebellious phase."

"Yes," Maura agreed. "Well, TJ will be fine."

"Mhmm." They lapsed into quiet after that. Jane reflected on the turns this conversation had taken. "Thank you." Maura gave her a curious look. "For the present."

Understanding appeared in the doctor's delicate features. "I saw it this afternoon as I was running out the door. I just thought that you, well, it's tradition."

"It was tradition, yes," Jane acceded.

Maura looked self-conscious. "Your mother still drops one off every Christmas Eve. We exchange them."

"She does?" Jane was surprised.

"I hang them in the downstairs window now, not the-th-the bedroom."

"Right. Of course not."

"But, I thought that maybe this year, since you were going to be here, I should give it to you."

"Well, I'll give it to Ma then. Wouldn't want her to miss a year," Jane wants to take it back when Maura's face drops in disappoint, but she doesn't. "Wouldn't be fair to her."

"I suppose so," Maura responds, trying to hide her sadness.

"We should go in," Jane indicated the door. She didn't really want to rejoin the party; her holiday mood had died along with their reunion, but she also didn't think she could stand another minute alone in the night with the doctor. She could still feel the anger rushing through her veins, the hurt, but it was muffled by her body's physical reaction. Even after all these years, she felt the irresistible pull of the spell Maura seemed to put her under. She never could resist the doctor's presence. Even after they'd been together for three years, she'd always felt the need to be closer to Maura, to have her hand in her own, to be next to her on the couch, close enough to reach out and touch her. And Maura had been the same way. Neither were very touchy-feely when it came to others. Jane abhorred physical affection really. But it was different between the two of them, and it never really seemed to wear off. Even when they were fighting, arguing, they'd always fallen asleep in the same bed, their exhausted bodies tucked around one another. And it had never lasted long, at least not until the last one. That one had been more of a marathon than their usual blowup though, going on and on, until eventually Jane had had enough. And it was over.

But now, standing so close to her old love again, Jane could still feel that pull. She needed to be around people. To have that chaperone before she did something she was bound to regret. They'd moved on, grown up. They didn't have feelings for one another anymore, just a lot of hurt. Baggage. Emotional entanglement. That was the only thing between the two now, Jane reminded herself.

So, she shoved down the warmth rising in her stomach, the tiny voice in the back of her head, and pushed past the medical examiner to open the door. "After you," she indicated the doctor should precede her inside. They took off their coats and hung them up, studiously avoiding one another's gazes.

"Jane, I-"

"Let's just get through Christmas, okay? And then I'll go back to Virginia and we can pretend this never happened."

"Oh. Alright. Sure," Jane avoided the disappointment in Maura's voice and led the way back to the living room instead.

"Just get through Christmas," she muttered to herself as they stepped back into the family gathering. "You can do it, Rizzoli. Buck up." Jane smiled at Frankie when he shot her a questioning look as her mother jumped up to drag Maura over to where the ladies were discussing Sarah and Frost's upcoming nuptials.

"All good?" Frankie mouthed, and Jane gave him a thumbs up. He looked relieved, and went back to monitoring the chess match.

Jane surveyed the room for a moment, taking in her family and friends, the love present there, the joy, and couldn't help but smile. But then she locked eyes with Maura, and the smile was wiped off her face immediately. No matter that they'd talked, managed to be mostly civil, it still stung to see Maura there, still caused Jane to feel as if a bullet were tearing through her gut. She looked away and decided that she needed another beer. It was going to be a long night.

"Goodnight!"

"Merry Christmas!" Jane and her mother waved Frankie out the door just after midnight. He was the last to go, and finally, the house fell still as Angela shut the door behind her middle child.

"Well," she exclaimed. "That went well!"

Jane grudgingly agreed.

"Did you see the bracelet the boys got me?" She held it up for her daughter's inspection.

"It's beautiful, Ma."

Her mother suddenly trapped her in a tight hug. "I'm just so happy you're home, Janie. I'm so glad you're spending Christmas with us!"

"Me, too," Jane had to admit, heading towards the living room to finish picking up.

Her mother trailed after her, chattering on about the gifts and dinner and, "Oh, don't Sarah and Barry just make the cutest couple?!"

Jane grunted in the appropriate places as she tied the trash bag closed and placed it by the stove. Her mother never needed much encouragement during a conversation. She could pretty much carry it by herself, as long as she had audience. The agent smiled fondly to herself as she listened to the matriarch prattle on about this and that.

"And Maura looked stunning tonight of course," Jane perked up at the mention of the doctor, trying not to look interested. "As usual of course. I was so happy she took the day off this year. Last year she insisted on working on Christmas Eve. She's the boss, I told her. Certainly she can have someone else handle it!"

Jane had paused in wiping down the sink and was staring at her mother, "Ma-"

"She just works so hard you know! I always worry about her, but-"

"Ma!"

"What, Jane?" Her mother sounded flustered and the agent knew she'd been ignoring her on purpose.

"You could have given me a heads up you know."

"I just didn't want you to get all upset about it, Janie. You know how you are."

Jane crossed her arms. "How I'm what, ma?"

"You just throw these things out of proportion. I only wanted to have a good holiday with all of my children."

Jane looked contrite at the emphasis on all. Of course her mother cared for Maura as a second daughter. Wasn't that what Jane had wanted in the first place? Hadn't it been the one thing she'd asked her mother to do before she'd run off to Virginia. Angela reassured her that she already cared for Maura that way, but Jane had made her mother promise. And she'd stuck by that promise. Angela Rizzoli had nothing if not plenty of motherly love and affection to go around.

"I would have appreciated a bit of warning though, Ma. I mean, really."

"Don't you really me," her mother order and the grown child rolled her eyes. "Besides," Angela sniffed, "it's about time the two of you got over it."

"Ma," Jane warned. "That is none of your business."

"Maybe not. But the happiness of my children IS my business. And whatever happened-" she held up a hand to stop her daughter from cutting in. "Whatever happened, it was ten years ago, Janie. It's gone on long enough. I think I speak for everyone when I say that we've had enough."

"Jesus, Ma. This is between Maura and I. It's not a family matter."

"It is a family matter when we're the ones who have to deal with the fallout, missy." The detective knows better than to argue when her mother puts her determined face on, otherwise she's asking to get swatted with a towel or some other kitchen implement.

"Well, we were civil enough tonight, weren't we?"

"Yes, I suppose," her mother glared at her. "Now I expect that to continue for the rest of your visit. You two need to talk about it, put it behind you both so you can stop running from it and Maura can finally move on."

"Easier said than done," Jane muttered under her breath.

"Oh, honey," sometimes it still took the agent off guard at how quickly her mother could go from demanding to soft in the blink of an eye. The older woman, was at her side, cupping her daughter's cheek in her rough hand with all the care she possessed. "I know it's been hard on you. I just want my girls to be happy. I love you both so much!"

Jane leaned into the motherly touch gratefully, even accepting a kiss on the cheek "I know, ma."

Just just like that, her mother was back to all business. She clapped her hands together and surveyed the kitchen with a critical eye. "Well, this doesn't look too shabby. I think I'll go up to bed. It's an early morning tomorrow."

Jane groaned at the thought of another entire day of family togetherness and Christmas celebration. She missed them while she was away, but damn, they were a lot all at once.

"We're having Christmas dinner at Maura's house tomorrow night, and I promised to head over early to cook."

"Maura's? Why not here again?"

"Maura offered, Janie! Besides she has more room."

Jane decided to let that part go for now. It was a fight she wouldn't win, but, "More food? Jesus! Why don't we just take the leftovers?"

Her mother frowned at her. "It's Christmas dinner. We've got to have all the fixings."

"Fixings. Hell."

"Don't swear," her mother commanded. "You don't have to come over to help since I know how much you look down on such homey pursuits," she made sure Jane understood her distaste for her daughter's feelings. "But, I expect you there by three o'clock. I'll send Tommy over here with the kids in the morning to get you up."

Jane sighed. Her mother patted her cheek once more before heading for the stairs. She stopped in the doorway to send her daughter one last smile.

"Thank you for coming, Janie."

The brunette softened. "Sure, Ma."

"We're all happy to have you here. Even Maura."

"I know."

"Work it out, sweetie. You two. You're both something else."

"Ma," Jane whined.

"You're made for each other, Janie. Everybody knows it, except the two of you apparently. You both just need to stop being so stubborn and get your heads out of your asses!"

"Ma!" Jane shrieked, secretly delighted at her mother's foul language. But she turned serious quickly. "Maura doesn't feel that way anymore, Ma. It's been a long time. We both said a lot of mean things. She's moved on by now."

"Janie," her mother waited until she had her full attention. "I lived with that woman for years. I watched her try to get over you. And I don't think it worked. Besides, you two are soul mates or something, and you don't just stop loving your soul mate. Trust me. I'm your mother. I know." Leaving her daughter with that tidbit of advice, she headed upstairs.

"I'll be praying for a Christmas miracle!" Angela's voice called down from the upper level before her bedroom door shut.

"Love you, too," Jane chuckled under her breath, finished up her last chore, and then flicked off the lights, heading up the stairs herself.

She pulled on her red sox shirt and boxer shorts and then slid into the tiny twin bed, pulling the covers under her chin. The glow from the street light came in through the small window, illuminating the snow still falling outside. They were going to have to shovel in the morning if this kept up. Jane snuggled down into the covers, attempting to find a comfortable position in the unknown bed. It felt strange to be going to sleep under her mother's roof again. It made her feel like a kid again. She even felt the excitement in her belly that signaled Santa was coming and Christmas the next day.

However, at the thought of tomorrow, she buried her face in her hands. Tomorrow meant dinner, which meant Maura's house. The house she had once lived in, had called home for more than two years. Until it suddenly wasn't her home anymore. Until she'd left for Virginia, leaving behind her entire life. She was nervous about setting foot in that house again. The place held so many memories for the Agent. And she was worried about having to see Maura in her own environment. In the place where Jane would now be the outsider, the unwelcome intruder. Although, Jane felt that Maura had become more a part of the Rizzoli clan than she, herself was over the years. Jane had distanced herself on purpose; she hadn't gotten anything she hadn't asked for and orchestrated of her own free will. But, presented with the results of her actions, it hurt to see how far apart she'd allowed herself to drift.

The brunette didn't want to have to spend another day avoiding her feelings, the past that had settled above her like a suffocating blanket. She didn't want to have to meet Maura's knowing gaze, to pretend not to feel anything when she caught sight of the doctor's beautiful curves. That it didn't physically pain her to watch the blonde laughing at one of Korsak's jokes while Jane could barely stand to speak to her.

The agent sighed. It was Christmas. Christmas meant family, which meant Maura Isles. Jane was just going to have to suck it up and get over it. And, in three more days, she'd get on a plane and go back to Virginia and pretend that nothing had ever happened. Three more days. She could handle that. She could.

But, for all her blustering and self-confidence, the FBI Agent fell asleep to thoughts of a honey blonde, memories of happier Christmases, the glowing smile of one Dr. Maura Isles. A smile Jane had missed more than anything else about her hometown. "Merry Christmas, Maur," she whispered aloud, letting the darkness take the words and fling them out the window onto the breeze, swept away, out into the night and the snow and the stars.