Forgoing a knock, the impetuous woman burst through the door and froze. She hasn't been inside these four walls in a decade. It should look different. But it doesn't. Not really. The sheets are new, and there are new patterns on the throw pillows, but almost everything else looks the same. Jane takes a deep breath. Maura is standing with her back to her, facing the window, looking out at the snow. She isn't making any noise, but Jane knows that the doctor is crying by the way Maura has hunched her shoulders. Shit. Why does she always have to act like such a freaking idiot?

The agent takes a few more steps into the room, her feet sinking into the thick white carpeting on the floor. Jane had argued against that carpet originally. She swore that she was going to spill something on it and then it would be ruined. But, that didn't happen. She never really got the chance since she moved out a month after they had it installed. She can't keep from glancing around. The room still has that warm, lived in feel that she'd always loved about it. Jane had managed to convince Maura to spend quite a few blustery days holed up in this room, cuddling, talking, doing other...stuff. She feels her face burn and idly wonders how many others have shared that bed, her bed, their bed since she'd gone. But it's an uncomfortable thought, one which makes her squirm, so she pushes it away.

Neither woman has said anything yet, and it's been almost five minutes. Jane is in the process of coming up with an apology, when she spots it, sitting on the dresser, tucked partly behind a jewelry box. It's a picture of her, well, of her and Maura. They are sitting on the couch, neither one of them must have been aware of the photographer because they've got their foreheads touching and are holding hands, smiling and laughing to one another. Jane wonders who took that picture. It must have been her mother, but she is surprised to see it here. Now.

She tears her eyes away and looks back at the closed off view the doctor is presenting to her now. Why did we let it get like this? How did it come to this?

Jane clears her throat gently, but it echoes in the silence. "I'm sorry."

Maura doesn't respond, so she tries again. "I'm sorry, Maur. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's fine, Jane. I understand," her voice is cool, controlled.

"No," Jane slapped her thigh in frustration and, in front of her, Maura jumped slightly. Jane frowned. "It isn't alright. I've been nothing but mean to you ever since I got here, and you've been so welcoming. So freaking nice. It isn't okay."

The doctor doesn't agree, but she doesn't deny it either.

"That name - what they used to call you - it isn't true."

"Queen of the dead," Maura said softly. "I suppose it could be a compliment."

"Jesus!" Jane lets a whoosh of air. "I shouldn't have said it. Okay?"

"You can't just take something like that back," and now Maura is starting to lose her calm veneer. Her voice shakes a bit.

"I know that," Jane softens her tone. "I know that." She can't help but step forward, an automatic reaction to Maura's presence.

"Fine. I accept your apology."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

Jane doesn't want Maura to just forgive her. She doesn't deserve it. She doesn't want them to just go back downstairs and pretend like it never happened. She can't pretend. "You can't accept my apology."

Maura finally turns at that, her eyes are red and slightly puffy, but she has stopped crying.

"I don't accept your acceptance," and it's such a ridiculous statement that she almost smiles.

"That's ridiculous!"

And then she does smile. "I was a bitch to you, Maura. Today. Last night," she pauses. "Ten years ago," and Maura flinches, "so I don't want you to just forgive me for saying something mean."

"Ten years ago," Maura is looking at the floor. "it wasn't all your fault. I-I couldn't give you what you wanted. I-I didn't want a baby, Jane. I'm sorry."

But Jane shakes her head. "A baby? A kid? Jesus, Maura. Don't you see. I got over the baby thing. I was willing to let it go, to move past it. It didn't matter if we had ten kids or just a bunch of nieces and nephews. We were supposed to be together, Maura. That was the important thing."

"I would have been denying you of your dream, Jane. You would have resented me. Not right away," she hastens to add when it appears that the agent is about to interrupt. "But eventually."

"So is that why you refused to even discussing moving to Virginia when they offered me the job? You just shut me down, Maur!" and now, Jane realizes, they are getting to the crux of the matter. They'd yelled about babies, about everything under the sun, but she'd never really gotten a reason out of the stubborn doctor.

"You wouldn't even consider it! Every time I brought it up, you just shut down." Maura isn't looking at her. "What?" Jane's voice is rising in volume. "We could have gone together! You would have gotten a job. You're the best aren't you? The FBI would have taken you, you know that!" Maura's silence is making her furious. "You wouldn't even think about moving for me. Giving up your job for me? There are other positions, Maur! Okay, fine!" she threw up her hands in frustration. "So you didn't want to leave your job. I get it okay. We were both just as married to our work. But you were the one," she pointed an accusing finger at the other woman, "who said long distance wouldn't work. You were the one who wouldn't even try."

"Jane," it's soft.

"No. You know, I didn't understand it for a long time afterwards, but then one day I figured it out," Jane took a step forward. "Ian," and Maura shifts at the name. "You felt like if I left, it would be just like Ian. Fucking Ian. But, I've got news for you Maur," Jane is yelling now and she is sure that her entire family can hear them. She doesn't care. "I am not him. I wasn't him. I loved you," and her voice breaks on the word. "I loved you. And we could have made it work. I wasn't going to Africa, Maura," and Jane sighs. "You could have come with me. Or you could have stayed here, because here is home and here is where you were happy. And that would have been fine. We would have made it work. Because-Because I loved you," and there it is again. That word. "But instead, you wouldn't listen, wouldn't talk, wouldn't consider it." Jane can't continue. She is having trouble breathing, and she can feel the lump in her throat, the burning sensation behind her eyes that signals tears.

Maura is crying again, the tears running silently down her cheeks. She can't look at the broken woman in front of her, the woman she forced away by her silence and inaction. She had taken off her heels as soon as she entered her bedroom, kicked them away into a corner. And now, she rubs her bare foot over the carpeting. She has to give something to Jane. She has to make her understand. "I-" she licks her lips, "I was afraid."

Jane's head snaps up at the whispered confession.

"I was afraid of the bullets, that one day, you wouldn't come home...to me."

Jane looks incredulous. "I was a homicide detective. I faced danger every single freaking day. That was my job."

"Yes," Maura cuts her off. "Yes. It was. And you loved it. But every time you went out on a call, every single time, I just, I would picture you after Hoyt, after yo-you shot yourself," her voice is wavers, "after Hoyt again and Dominick an-and all the others. I would picture you gone, that this time you wouldn't get away, wouldn't be so damn lucky." Jane isn't interrupting. She is listening closely, trying, desperately, to understand. "Here, in Boston, I could keep an eye on you. And you're right, I didn't want to move to Virginia. I didn't want to leave behind a position that I had worked so hard for, that I was comfortable in. But I couldn't stand to keep you from succeeding, from moving up. And I couldn't stand not to be there, not to be able to look after you, not to be able to hold you in my arms after a terrible day and know that you were safe, and we were together," Maura is looking down at her empty arms as though she is confused. And Jane lets out a sob at the confession. "Having you here, I could...look after you...in my own way. And you had your team. Barry, and Sergeant Korsak."

"I have a team in Virginia," Jane finally speaks. "A good team."

"Yes, alright. I get it," and Jane is surprised by Maura's volume. "It was an irrational fear, a ridiculous one. But I didn't want to lose you."

Jane stares at you. "Well. You lost me anyway."

Silence. It was the truth. And it wasn't because of one of them alone. They both had a hand in it, in the breaking apart, the falling away. Jane had gone, had almost fled, but Maura hadn't fought back, she hadn't given any sign that she wanted to work it out. They had used smaller fights, about kids and family and jobs, but really, it had all been about fear. And Jane finally understood, she finally got it, and it was heartbreaking.

They are only separated by five feet of flooring, but it feels like miles, like a chasm has opened between the two and they are standing on opposite ledges, staring across the vast open space between them. Jane watches Maura and Maura watches Jane. Finally, the doctor seems to summon some wellspring of strength and she takes a step into the void, and then another and another until she is standing directly in front of Jane, floating on air, supported only by her own will. Jane can't move, can't breathe.

"They told me, you know. Of course, they had to," Maura's tone is light, conversational, but Jane can feel the tension rolling off of her small body, knows that the doctor is holding herself tightly in check.

"That second year. And once your mother left, Barry and Vince had no choice but to inform me." Maura reaches out a trembling hand and lightly strokes Jane's abdomen in the place where she shot herself so long ago. That had been a horrible day. She'd put a bullet through herself in order to stop a dirty cop, in order to give the paramedics time to get to Frankie, to save his in life. She shot herself to save her family. To save Frankie, and Maura. Jane doesn't dare move, while Maura's long fingers run over the fabric of her sweater gently. And then, she moves her hand away and up, pausing, suspended in the air, several inches above Jane's heart. Jane looks down and then back up at Maura, and she gives her permission, silently.

The blonde moves the final distance and places her hand gently down. Jane can feel the heat of Maura's palm through her shirt. Both woman gasp at the contact. Maura is fixated on the place, but Jane is looking away, towards the window, trying not to think. No one has touched it. Not ever. Not since a man put a bullet there, just missing her heart, leaving her barely alive. It's been eight years, and no one has seen the scar except for her mother and her doctor. And now, the only thing separating Maura Isles from the truth, from the closest Jane has ever been to death, is a thin layer of clothing. Jane can hardly focus, but then Maura begins to speak again, quietly, her soothing voice flowing between them.

"When Vince told me, I thought I was dreaming. It was worse than that day a the precinct. So much worse, because I wanted to run to you as I'd done that day, to touch you, feel you, see your chest rise and fall. But you were 300 miles away," Maura breaks off, composes herself, and continues. "So, I got on a plane, and I went to Virginia." Jane jerks her gaze from the window and turns her eyes to Maura. The doctor's hazel eyes are shiny with tears, and she is pleading with Jane. "I made it all the way to that waiting room before I realized that you wouldn't want me there. You walked away and I had let you go. You promised me that we could make it work, but I didn't believe you, and now, I would have to pay for it. It was my worst nightmare come to life, Jay, and I had to turn around and walk back out that door and let it consume me. You were fighting for your life, but I was the coward. The woman who couldn't bear to see the person sh-she loved suffering. I'd seen you like that before, and I couldn't stand to see it again. I wanted to remember you the way you were before, vibrant. So full of life and energy." The doctor has forced the words out, quickly, painfully. She is still staring at her hand resting on Jane's chest, watching it rise and fall in time to the agent's breathing. "You were never still, and sometimes it drove me crazy, but I loved that about you," she says fondly. "You were passionate, headstrong, independent, alive."

"But," she finally continues, "I spoke with her mother every day. She kept me apprised of your condition. Those months while she was with you, she always called. I just, I couldn't, Jay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" And Maura begins to sob, loud, heaving sobs. The tears rack her tiny frame and she curls around herself, never removing her hand.

Jane knows that it is her turn to respond, she has the floor. But she can't fathom it, can't make sense of the fact that Maura had come to Virginia, had been so close. She wants to take the sobbing woman in her arms and reassure her that feeling fear is not weakness. That Jane Rizzoli is afraid every damn day. That fear can protect you, keep you safe, but that it can also destroy you, just at it destroyed them. Her body is vibrating with the need to protect the small woman in front of her, humming with desire, with emotion, but, she takes a step back and Maura's hand falls away.

Her brain is refusing to allow her to-t-to feel. She is suspended in a state of shock. Maura was there. She was in the same building. So freaking close! But, she'd left. She'd been the one to walk away.

"Please, Jay. I'm sorry," Maura is taking deep breaths, trying to regain the control she always strives for. "I wanted you to be happy. To get better and move on."

"Move on?" her rough has dropped an octave. "Move on? I spent a year behind a desk because of that shot. A year of my life stapling and filing paperwork because of that shot. They offered me retirement, full benefits. But all I could think of was running back to Boston with my tail between my legs and how disappointed you would have been in me. To see me fail. So I spent a year being patient, putting up with everybody else's crap, physical therapy, fricken counseling. And the whole time, the whole time," Jane is shouting again, her raspy voice loud in her ears, "the whole time, I'm telling myself, what would Maura say? Hmmm. I pictured you in my head, the way it was after Bobby, telling me to get off the couch, get my shit together." Jane can't stand to look at Maura anymore, so she turns away, and that is when she is reminded of where they are, her gaze lands on the bed, their bed.

She knows that Maura has seen other people, slept with them. Men, women. She would force Frost to tell her about them all, and then she'd run checks on them, keeping tabs. There weren't many, really. It slips out before she can get a handle on it, shove the thought away, back down deep inside herself, "You were probably too busy fucking someone else. Moving on, being "happy." Right? Isn't that right?" It's a horrible statement. And she wants to sink into the floor as soon as it leaves her lips. She doesn't know when she became this horrible, angry person. She doesn't know how to stop.

"Jay."

"Well so did I," she spins around and glares at Maura, challenging the other woman. "I fucked them," and the doctor flinches at the unfeeling tone. "But I never, I never let them touch me," Jane is shaking. "I never let them touch me," and now she is the one breaking down as it washes over her, the realization that she has become this person, lonely, and broken. She used to be strong. To be tough. She doesn't recognize who she has become. "I never let them touch me. I pretended they were you. All of them. I fucked them and I pretended that I was fucking you. And then I made them leave, and I never let them touch me." she can't stop saying it. "And each time, I felt so-s-so unclean," she is staring at her hands now as though they are not her own, alien. "So dirty. I used them. Pretended they were you because I needed you, and then I made them leave. They never touched me."

"Jay," she is afraid to see the pity there. Maura steps forward and lifts her chin gently so that they are face to face. It isn't pity, and she is so relieved. Simply sadness. "Oh, Jay."

Suddenly, Jane has crashed her lips into Maura's, she is pushing and pushing, and at first, Maura doesn't move, but then she is pushing back just as fiercely. And her hands are wrapped in Jane's dark curls and she is tugging the detective closer. Their lips are battling for dominance, unyielding. All Jane knows is Maura's lips rough on her own, all she can taste and feel is Maura. She forces her tongue between the other woman's lips, and Maura takes it greedily. The doctor bites Jane's lower lip and the agent hisses in response, and the doctor doesn't take the time to soothe the burn, simply continues pushing. Jane's hands come up to rest on the doctor's hips, and she pulls her mouth away for air, kissing down the doctor's throat hungrily, wetly. She finds Maura's pulse point and sucks. The blonde moans and pulls the agent's air until Jane returns to eye level, crashing their lips together once more. They are spinning out of control. Jane doesn't know if it is ten minutes or ten years, but eventually, Maura pulls back and breaks apart, and they stand, panting, foreheads resting against one another.

Maura frees her hands from Jane's hair and moves to sit down on the floor, resting her back against the foot of the bed. Jane licks her swollen lips, and runs her fingers through her snarled curls. She slides down so that she is too is resting back against the bed, the side though, separated from the doctor, and still breathing heavily, unsure what to do. They sit that way in silence for many long moments, and the tension bleeds out of the air, leaving behind two women, unsure how to continue, what it all means. Jane shifts, smelling her own arousal in the air. She should be embarrassed, but she isn't.

Maura is picking at the carpeting at the corner of the bed, her hand is the only thing Jane can see, so she reaches out and covers it with her own, effectively calming the doctor.

"What now?" Maura speaks first.

Jane shrugs and then realizes that the ME can't see her. She debates for a minute, then says, "They offered me Boston."

"What does that mean?"

"Right before I left. They offered me the supervisory position at the Boston field office." Maura turns her hand over so they are palm to palm and threads her fingers with the agent's. "It would be less action. More paperwork. A promotion."

"Are you going to take it?"

Jane sighs, "I don't know. I haven't told Ma or the guys yet."

"What do you want to do?"

"Boston is my home, Maur," Jane admits softly and Maura squeezes her hand in response. "I don't know. I have to tell them when I get back, before the new year. But, I don't know."

They lapse back into a comfortable silence. Something has shifted in the past hour. Jane doesn't exactly understand how it happened, but she's done fighting it. Finally, the agent lets go and stands up, looking down at the figure on the floor. "We should go back downstairs. Show them that we haven't killed each other," she offers Maura a smile, a white flag, and the ME takes it, smiling back.

"Alright," Jane gives her a hand, and the doctor rises gracefully to her feet. Jane's handle is on the door knob, when Maura whispers her name.

Before either of them know what is happening, Jane has flipped them and is pressing Maura against the door. She kisses her once, gently, trying to memorize the feeling, storing it away for later. "I don't know," she whispers, and Maura nods in understanding, then slips out from between Jane's arms and opens the door. She flits down the stairs, leaving Jane behind to straighten herself up, dust herself off, before rejoining the party. She doesn't know. She just doesn't know.