Chapter Three - I Like This Kitchen

It wasn't surprising that Jane was up first. At six she got up, went for a short run with Jo (which ended with Jane carrying the pup the last half mile), took a shower, and got breakfast started before Maura shuffled out of the bedroom. "You're wearing that?" asked Maura, pouring a cup of coffee and eyeing Jane's rather nice shirt combined with rather ratty jeans.

Jane rolled her eyes. "I am, actually, only wearing this for now. I couldn't find the pants I wanted without turning on the lights."

"I can't believe I slept from noon yesterday," Maura marveled, but didn't seem upset about having been unconscious for so long. "Thank you for letting me. I feel like a new person." She looked like one, too. Gone was the faint darkness she'd been nursing under her eyes - nosey-juggling folds or something like that, Jane couldn't keep it straight - and the posture that, since Daniel had been shot, made her look like the air was too heavy to let her move easily under its weight. There was another aspect to her restedness that intrigued Jane, exemplified by the look in Maura's eyes as she commented, "You know, those pants, they don't look bad."

With another eyeroll, Jane pointed out the obvious. "Cavanaugh would be about as happy if I showed up looking like hobo-day as if I did for naked-day." Still, she put down the knife that was dicing fruit and wrapped her arms around Maura for a too brief comforting hug. "You look a lot better. I tried waking you up for dinner, but you didn't even twitch. So Ma and I had pizza."

Just one night without supervision and the diet went to hell. And Maura didn't even comment on it. "I didn't say wear them to work, Jane," she mentioned, sliding her arms under her lover's to bring her even closer. "But maybe just here. For me. Maybe tonight." Her voice could never be as raspy or husky as Jane's, but it was lowered in both volume and pitch to a sultry near-whisper. "For now, the navy blue trousers you want with that blouse are in the closet, third from the left."

Forgetting about the pants for a moment, Jane capitalized on Maura's improved mood with kisses. "Challenge accepted," she promised. "I wanted the grey pants, actually... I think they're at my apartment." This was said with a disgruntled sigh, but Jane made no move to let go of Maura.

Maura stiffened a little in Jane's arms. There was that argument again. Maura was so tired of the circuitous conversation that she'd privately promised not to bring it up again. Previously, this had been the point where Maura would remark on how it would be much easier if Jane just moved in, had all of her belongings at Maura's. Jane would balk, and they'd argue. "Either pair would work," Maura replied, instead of picking the fight, and pressed herself closer to Jane, reveling in her presence, warmth, and health. This time, it wasn't Jane who was in the hospital.

Stroking Maura's hair, Jane made a noncommittal noise. "You're right." She nuzzled Maura's neck. "It's silly having my stuff in two places," continued Jane, thinking about the empty feeling in her apartment the day before. "I should just move in here when my lease is up."

It was impossible not to react to Jane's lips along her neck, and Maura shivered as she tilted her head to the side. "Your brothers might be confused," she pointed out, mildly, threading her fingers through Jane's wild, still damp, hair. Maybe they could be a little late to work...

But Jane's affections to Maura's neck stopped abruptly. "That's a good point," she said, far more serious about this matter than Maura wanted to be.

Damn it, I shouldn't have said anything, Maura chastised herself.

Surprisingly, Jane went on, letting go of Maura and returning to chopping vegetables and fruit. "Good point," she repeated. "You should take them out to brunch or lunch on Saturday. I'll take Korsak and Frost, so everyone finds out at the same time."

Maura was quite certain Jane was still talking because she could see the lips moving, but all Maura heard was a rushing in her head. No, a roaring of blood, pounding away, raising her heart rate. "You said what?" she asked when she'd caught her breath and the loud whooshing had subsided within her.

"Take my brothers to lunch. It was your idea, right?" Jane repeated, hearkening back to a discussion they'd had several weeks before, before Christmas. "You wanted to have that man-to-man talk. Man-to-Maura talk."

"I did," Maura replied, nervous, but determined not to express the largeness of the moment. Jane's demeanor was that of studied nonchalance; hers should be, too, or Jane might get cold feet. "I'll call before I go back to the hospital, then. Which will be after my shower."

Jane appeared puzzled, turning so that she could see her girlfriend's face. "Didn't you shower when you got up?"

Maura smiled warmly as she, too, backed up, pulling Jane along gently in the direction of the bedroom by her shirt. "I'm going to need another one. And so are you."

The tortoises could wait on breakfast just a little longer, after all.

"You know, for a guy running a gambling establishment, Montague was real clean," complained Korsak, slapping the last folder down on his desk. For the moment, they were holding off on investigating Father Brophy as the target, and instead were dealing with the actual victim. There was, after all, the possibility that someone had bought a sniper rifle without actually being a good enough shot to use it properly. Besides, the only actually dead person was a Montague.

Without looking up, Frost replied, "My dad said off track betting is why horse racing's doing so badly."

Jane and Korsak shared a mildly surprised look, but said nothing about it. "I just can't believe no one wanted him dead. He was a real prick." Jane pushed her hair back and slumped in her seat.

Grunting, Korsak mimicked Jane's pose. "His kids didn't like him very much."

Still immersed in his computer records, Frost absently remarked, "We all feel that way sometimes." Then he too sighed and sank in his chair. "I got nothing. The only kid who has any sort of a record against his folks is the youngest son. Borrowed Dad's Jag one night, Dad called it grand theft auto, made him spend the night in jail. He said he was pissed his Mom got all the money, but he didn't kill her. Doesn't have the money to pay off a hit, and he doesn't get any from his mom dying, either."

The trio lapsed into contemplative silence, shattered only by Crowe's arrival and subsequent request for an update on Father Brophy. Nearly every detective in the precinct, and more than a few patrol officers, had come by to ask Jane how Brophy was. The man was practically universally liked by the precinct. Jane was rather pleased that folks liked Brophy, it made her feel better about liking him herself, but it was damned hard to concentrate on the case when she kept getting interrupted.

Normally she'd just go downstairs and hide with Maura for a couple hours, but Maura had already turned over new cases to Dr. Pike and taken her laptop to the hospital to do paperwork while watching Daniel. The morgue would just be weird without Maura there. And creepy. "I need some more coffee," announced Jane, and she hopped up to go visit her mother in the cafe.

Four more people (a secretary, one of the guys from vice, and two traffic cops) asked about Brophy on the way. Jesus, it was getting annoying.

"How's Father Brophy?" asked Angela, as soon as she saw Jane.

"Five," sighed Jane. "Uh, I mean fine. The same. They don't think he'll wake up until tomorrow at the earliest anyway." With a yawn, Jane sat down at a table and was rewarded with not only coffee, but a bowl of granola. "Thanks, Ma."

Taking the opposite chair, Angela toyed with her own coffee cup. "Is Maura still at the hospital?"

"Yeah, but she got some sleep."

Angela nodded, "I can sit with him tonight. Lord knows he and I both sat with you and Frankie when you two were shot." That was news and Jane, mouth full with crunchy goodness, had to settle for a 'huh?' noise and arched eyebrows. "Didn't I say? Your father left while you were still the hospital."

Forcing a swallow a little too early, Jane nodded, "Yeah, I remember that."

"Well, Father Brophy didn't think it was good for me to sit alone, so he'd come by and sit with me." Angela paused before leaning forward in a hushed tone. Oh good, gossip time. "The rumor 'round is that the snipper was aiming at Father Brophy."

The urge to facepalm was strong. "Sniper, Ma. And… Well, it's likely it was him or Mrs. Montague." When her mother made a 'don't pull my leg, Jane Rizzoli' face, Jane sighed. "Probably."

And finally, someone knew the other important question to ask, even if she didn't quite know why. "How's Maura?"

Jane sighed with palpable relief. "She's pretty cut up about it. They're really good friends, and she feels so bad for him, Ma. I mean, he's got no family anywhere nearby. They've all moved other places and they can't get here for one reason and another, so she's thinking she has to fill in for all of them. She was going to stay at the hospital, until I talked her into going home and resting."

Angela was impressed. "That girl," she opined in great seriousness, "is a better friend than most people will ever deserve. I can't believe more people aren't lining up to get to be friends with her."

As reasons for Maura's devotion went, that one was better than she could've hoped for, from her normally uncannily perceptive mother. "Yeah, Ma. She's the best."

She thought that was the end of it, but Angela wasn't quite finished. "But this is just awful. Who'd want to kill a priest?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out." Jane took a deep breath, "You sitting with him will make Maura feel a lot better, Ma. Thanks."

Angela looked surprised, and then with a flush of embarrassment, looked away and wiped at an invisible piece of dirt on the table. "Hmm," she finally replied. Jane smiled at her mother, and grinned more when Angela shoved her upper arm. "You just want a night alone."

Leaning over, Jane kissed her mother on the cheek. "I love you too, Ma. Come by before you go over to MassGen tonight, would you? I want to tell you something."

The public affection startled Angela enough that Jane was at the door by the time she started to shout, "Tell me what! You get back here Jane Rizzoli!"

But it was too late. Jane was already gone.

Maura picked up the phone on the first ring, "No change."

After a heartbeat of silence, Jane sighed. "I didn't think there would be. I mean, you'd call me right away if he woke up. And if he got worse, you'd just yell at me that you can't get into the OR again."

"I would not!" protested Maura, indignantly, but capitulated before Jane could even draw breath to contradict her. "Yes, I would. But I wouldn't want to."

"Glad to see you're practicing your yes-and-no lessons," Jane mumbled, deadpan.

Maura sighed and looked at Daniel. His face had grown less pinched over the last day, easing Maura's guilt for having spent the brunt of the previous 20 hours at home, asleep. Or at least in bed. So far the prognosis was as well as could be expected. There was no infection to fight off, Daniel was healthy, and but for the blood loss, collapsed lung, and hypoxia, he was really doing very well.

He was still intubated, with a ventilator regularly pushing aid into his lungs. He was still unconscious. Maura had attempted to explain to Jane that, since Daniel physically responded to painful stimuli and his pupils reacted to light he was not, in fact, in a coma, though he was in a comatose state. Flippantly, Jane pointed out it worked out the same in the end, before the sound of a horn blasted through the phone.

Pursing her lips, Maura asked, "Are you talking to me while driving?"

"I'm doing it hands free."

Struck by pique, Maura replied tartly, "That's what she said." There was a lengthy silence. "Did I get that wrong?"

The muffled sound across the phone was difficult to place, until Jane wheezed, "Awesome. Six points!"

Aha! Laughter. Maura beamed and allocated points accordingly.

"God, you're going to make me crash the car one day, hon," Jane teased. "I'm on my way to talk to the cemetery workers. Frost's already there. We're going to use a laser pointer and aim it out to see if we can find where the hell the shooter was. Assuming the bullet wasn't a ricochet."

"I don't believe it was," Maura provided firmly. "Where are you getting a laser pointer that powerful, Jane?" There was a soft, subtle, noise on the phone. "Jane Rizzoli, did you 'borrow' my laser pointer again?"

"I'll bring it back!"

Maura huffed, glad Jane couldn't see her smirking. "Really?" she said, archly, in a good approximation of Jane's frustrated tone. "At any rate, according to the information Dr. Knudsen gave me, there was no indication of the damage caused by the sharper edges of a ricochet. Daniel's internal damage was in too much of a straight line for that. It would be better if you had the bullet, of course, for confirmation."

"Bulletproof confirmation," quipped Jane. "We'll have that tonight. That's the other reason we're going to the cemetery. We got the court order so we can haul the casket back... Why do we always have cases where we've got to look in a coffin?"

Maura exhaled noisily. "We don't always have cases where we exhume bodies. I admit, the ones I have a… personal stake in seem to disproportionately involve them." A too-recent memory clarified itself in Maura's mind and she sucked in a breath. "You need to contact Rick."

Across the phone, Jane's voice was perplexed. "Rick? Rick who?"

Her spine stiffened as Maura explained, "Rick who works at Wal-Mart."

There was silence across the phone. Oh. That Rick. "Uh, you're gonna have to unpack that one, babe."

Guilt was creeping in, even though Maura knew she personally had nothing to feel guilt about. "He and Daniel talked once," she temporized. Jane made a noise whose meaning was clear, even to socially challenged Maura. More data, dammit. "At church. I believe Daniel was his confessor." When the silence from Jane extended uncomfortably, Maura felt the need to fill the void with words. "You understand Daniel couldn't tell me exactly what they talked about, but I was given to understand it involved me." She really didn't want to voice her concern of this possibility. If Daniel was shot because of her... If he died because of her...

Jane, thankfully, was sharp and caught on quickly. It was one of the many aspects Maura adored in her lover. "You're thinking the Wal-Mart greeter confessed to your - Uh, to Daniel, and one of his guys knew, and is trying to silence Daniel? Because we've been cleaning up Rick's old gang. Oh, crap."

A low groan came from the phone, which oddly made Maura feel relieved. "I think it's a possibility we shouldn't ignore." Maura knew she was temporizing, but she honestly didn't know.

"Okay, I can do that," sighed Jane, a little grimly. "I'll chase that lead down after we get the coffin. Do you want to be there when we crack it, or should I use Pike?"

Maura bit her lip. She couldn't, shouldn't, work the case, as she was Daniel's Advanced Directive, not to mention her other ties to the potential suspects. At the same time, there was nothing against the law or medical ethics concerning her presence for the unsealing itself. "I'll come and supervise," she said, determinedly. "After all, it's been over a year since I last observed Pike performing that sort of work." While Jane couldn't see her, Maura lifted her chin proudly anyway. Two could fudge the rules.

The soft laugh from Jane made her smile. "Clever. Okay, I've got to go. Want me to pick you up on the way back?"

Glancing up at the clock, Maura did a quick mental calculation. "No, one of the sisters from Greystones Abbey is coming by at lunch, and Father Imahara will be here again tonight."

"They've got nuns young enough to visit?" muttered Jane, clearly remembering the case at the Abbey, and how the average age of the nuns living there was close to 80.

"After the murder, they acquired a few transfers from more vibrant abbeys. But in this case, it's one of the nuns you and I met, Sister Polycarp." The nun in question had been rather high spirited, even in her old age of 85, and wryly said they gave her the name because she was a 'queer fish' as a young woman.

Jane snorted, "I remember her. She's 80 if she's a day. Tell her I say hello. Love you, Maura."

"She's only 86 now. And I love you too, Jane." The phone turned off and Maura sighed, pleased. It was wrong, at this time of despair, to feel so happy just to have heard Jane's simple declaration of love. "I refuse to feel guilty for loving her," she told the unconscious Daniel, certain that even had he been awake, he would have approved.

By the time Jane got home, she was tired, sore, and filthy. "Here's your laser pointer," she grumbled at the cook, tossing it onto the kitchen counter.

"That's no way to say hello," chastised Angela, busy cooking in Maura's kitchen. Jane's kitchen. The kitchen. And there was no Maura.

Mentally, Jane rolled the concept of this being 'home' around, and found it was giving her warm fuzzies. "Sorry, Ma. It's been a long day. Where's Maura?"

"And that's no way to greet your mother, Janie." Thankfully it was clear Angela was just teasing, and she softened her maternal harassment by handing Jane a cold beer.

"I love you, Ma," sighed Jane, though she didn't open the drink quite yet. "Where's Maura, and why are you cooking?"

"Did you eat lunch? You don't look like it. Here, why don't you try the appetizer I made?" Angela slid a plate over with pasta primavera alongside pepper steak, clearly avoiding telling Jane where Maura was.

Since she was clearly not going to get any reasonable conversation out of her mother right now, Jane took a bite. "This is really good. Are you using Grandma Regina's recipe?" Angela's own mother had been an amazing cook, but with a limited repertoire, and after marrying into the Rizzolis, Angela had taken it on herself to master more than a tiny slice of Italian cooking. Of course, no one made better gnocchi than Angela.

Wiping her hands, Angela nodded. "Maura had an idea to make it a little different." Jane grinned, comforted by the fact Angela was treating Maura like a daughter-in-law. "What on earth happened to you! You're filthy!"

It was probably good she was wearing one of her older outfits, "Oh, we were looking for evidence." Angela perked up like Joe Friday on the trail of a rabbit. "Don't get excited, all we found was a possible nest. Sniper's nest. There were these grooves in the dirt... never mind, Maura'll think it's cool later. Point is we didn't find anything, which is good."

"How is nothing good?"

"Well, it means the guy's a pro. He cleaned up after himself. I've got unis looking for the weapon, in case he ditched it." Instead of dwelling on her lack of success, Jane went over the day's various conversations in her head and smiled. The great detective had the answers. "Ma, did Maura tell you I'm moving in?"

Her mother turned pink at the ears. Bingo. "She doesn't want you to be mad! It just slipped out when I came over, so I thought I should make you two dinner!" Jane shook her head and went to kiss her mother's cheek. "You're not mad?"

"No, Ma, I'm not mad." Now Jane opened the beer and sipped it.

But Angela still looked worried. "I was worried you were dragging your heels because I live here too. No one wants to move back in with their mother."

Now Jane frowned, "You're staying?"

Her mother's eyes widened. "You're kicking me out?"

"What! No, Ma! Wait, wait. What, exactly, did Maura 'let slip?' And where is she anyway?"

Angela put down the spoon and took a deep breath. "Maura's walking your dog. And she said you two were going to move in together. That's all."

And that made less sense, in regards to Angela's attitude. You'd think dating women, or a woman, would give me some insight into them, Jane thought to herself. "Yeah, she left out the part where I was gonna suggest you move in to my old apartment."

With a pained expression, Angela looked away. "I can't afford that, Janie." She was clearly embarrassed. "Your father... It... the house didn't sell for enough."

"I know. I harassed him till he paid off the debt. It was his, not yours Ma. I've got a cashier's check for you." Jane grinned at her mother's startled expression. It wasn't often she got to actually surprise Angela. "So... you want to take over my lease? Come on, it's a nice part of town, closer to work, Frankie and Tommy... Vince."

The last name startled Angela out of her stupor and she smacked Jane's arm. "Jane!" The blush had gotten worse, and Jane made a note to tease Korsak about it later.

"The neighbors are quiet," Jane mentioned to sweetened the pot.

Still, Angela hesitated. "I don't know..."

"Parking's included, Ma."

"Sold."

"It was really very nice of Angela to make us dinner," Maura pointed out, as she and Jane put away the dishes.

Jane bounced her bare heels off the cabinets, as she sat on the kitchen island. "Well she's excited to get her own place." After agreeing to move into Jane's apartment, Angela had quickly jumped into the packing and planning. By the time Maura had gotten home, Jane had agreed to move out by the end of the week. At first Jane was terrified how soon it was, but when she realized she barely had anything at her place (clothes, books, and DVDs had all migrated over to Maura's in the last 6 months), it was hardly an effort at all.

"It's awfully soon, though, Jane."

"Hey, I thought you wanted me to move in with you." The drumming of her heels stopped and Jane looked concerned. "If you don't want me to-"

Quickly Maura put a hand on Jane's knee. "I do. It's really just very fast. We only decided this yesterday." Maura paused, realizing all the things she had to do. "I haven't even talked to an agent yet." While Jane looked confused, Maura went on with a little mournful whine. "And I really love this kitchen."

Jane looked around the kitchen. "When you had this whole kitchen done to match the old place, I kind of guessed you liked it."

With a heavy sigh Maura turned around. "And the taxes... The city taxes really are unfairly high, especially for your income. And parking. I'll have to talk to my accountant. Maybe if I put more money into charitable donations... Of course selling this house wouldn't be as onerous as it might have been a year ago."

"Maura, sweetie, what are you talking about?" Jane put her glass down and studied Maura's face, though she really couldn't understand what an agent or an accountant had to do with anything. "Once Ma moves out, I can park where she does..."

"I'm talking about moving!"

Jane gave Maura a blank stare. "Yeah. So am I. I'm moving. Are you worried about where the moving van'll fit? I don't have that much stuff left there."

"No, Jane!" Maura couldn't understand how Jane was so obtuse, "We're moving!"

"We are? What? I thought you loved this place."

"I do love it."

"You've lost me, hon. Why are we moving?"

Exasperated, Maura threw her hands up, "Because we have to move into the city!" She knew her voice was getting shrill, but she couldn't help it.

Still mystified, Jane sought more clarification. "Since when?"

"Since 1995," replied Maura with exasperation.

Jane took a long look at her exceptionally frustrated girlfriend. "Maura, I didn't know you in 1995. Hell, I didn't meet you till you got hired on at BPD, which was ten whole years later. I was in junior college in 1995."

Her hands stayed in the air as Maura used them to punctuate her words, "That's exactly the point." She started ticking out points on her fingers, nearly flinging them at Jane. "You were in college in 1997. The Boston Police Department requires all officers hired subsequent to 1995 to live within Boston city limits. You took your officer's oath when you graduated from the police academy in 1997."

Finally it seemed Jane was catching on, as she slouched a little and frowned. "Yeah, but I started working as a police cadet the first week of 1995."

Or not. Maura made a frustrated noise, almost like a dog who couldn't get her bone. "That's still-"

This time Jane didn't let Maura cut in, and pushed forward. "...Because I got hired at the tail-end of 1994. Best Christmas present ever," she added gleefully, and then quickly amended, "except for that one when you-"

"Yes, I remember." Hasty, that cutoff, but then, Maura was never quite certain that Angela didn't lurk behind a door or a window, cracked to receive the fresh and unseasonably warm breeze. She was aware that Angela knew they got up to some manner of romantic shenanigans, but preferred to spare her the details, and to spare Jane knowing that Angela knew the details. They had strangely high boundaries. "But does that mean we-"

Now Jane was a little exasperated, "That's what I'm saying. We don't have to move. I have to move. You have to clear out half the closet."

"Half?" Effective distractionary technique, Jane. Points awarded: nine. "But you don't have nearly as many clothes as I do!"

Jane's eyes twinkled. "Gotcha. Come on, you know I don't even have a suitcase of stuff back at my place anymore. I just have to clean it up for Ma, get the rest of my books and movies and pictures, and that's it. I get to move in here."

As the realization that she would not have to move crept into Maura's body, she felt both relieved and embarrassed. Her skin felt hot. "Oh. You should have told me that before," she complained to Jane, not actually angry at her girlfriend.

Jane swung her long legs out and hooked them around Maura, pulling her in for a hug that involved all of her lengthy limbs, "Sweetie, I wouldn't have planned it for next week if you were going to have to sell this place."

"That wasn't funny," grumbled Maura, but allowed Jane's affection to sooth her pride.

"It really wasn't," Jane agreed.

The petite doctor wriggled around so she could rest her head against Jane's chest. Pressing her cheek against the detective's cleavage, she sighed. "I really like this kitchen. I was a little upset about the prospect of leaving it."

Jane stroked Maura's hair and while she didn't laugh, Maura could feel the slightly giddy tension in the legs that held her in place. "It's a great house. I think we're both happy here, right? No reason to leave. But we've got to put up a privacy wall, or some kind of tall shrubbery before Constance comes back, cause I don't want to have to explain why she needs noise canceling headphones."

"Mother already knows I can be a bit vocal." It was a little obvious, felt Maura, since her mother had accidentally overheard Maura and a partner on more than one occasion already. "Besides, she likes you. And Father has earplugs."

Groaning, Jane leaned back, to Maura's displeasure. Getting to lean against Jane's softer parts (of which there were surprisingly many) was one of Maura's many favorite things. "Your parents know... Of course they do." She sighed. "So not a turn-on, babe."

Maura made a mental note of that for the future.

Sister Polycarp (and much of her history as you will come to learn later) is from the Rumer Godden book "In This House of Brede," which is a novel about Benedictine Nuns in the 1950s and 60s in England.

Review and you'll get to hear funny stories about Sister Polycarp and a goat. And you'll get to see Jane tell people she's moving in with Maura. You're welcome.