A/N: Oh my god. You guys. You guys. You have all been so wonderful and supportive throughout this entire process. I finished a musical between the time you last saw me update and now, which is why I've been gone so long. Performing kind of saps my writing ability. Also, I'm not gonna lie and say that I'm not disappointed with this last chapter, at least a little bit. Although that might be because it's midnight on a Sunday. But yes. Enjoy, bbs. And thank you so much for all your lovely reviews!

.,.

Hope is nothing like Maura imagined her biological mother might have been. In all honesty she's a little bit…well, disappointing. It's a product of her years spent as a young girl imagining this woman she assumed she would never know- and a product of knowing someone like Angela, who embodies everything she has ever expected a mom to be. She has a mother, a mother who loves her, who jumped in front of a moving car for her, and if she had ever expected the woman who gave birth to her to be a mom, she expected a little too much.

And things are awkward. They exchange small talk, as if they're nothing more than acquaintances. They talk about Jane a little bit, but haltingly, because Hope doesn't have much nice to say (the way she says 'determined' sounds suspiciously like 'pigheaded', which is true, but Maura doesn't want to hear it) and Maura knows she needs to control herself. Much to Maura's surprise, it's Hope that broaches the impossible subject: Doyle.

"I met him when I was very young, you know," is what she says first. Maura is tempted to ask for the antecedent to 'him', but common sense tells her it has to be Doyle, and Jane has told her enough times that constantly correcting peoples' grammar isn't exactly endearing.

"He was handsome then, and dangerous. I was too young to realize how stupid I was being. I… he was good to me."
"I don't doubt it," Maura replies, as soothingly as she can manage. She doesn't, either- the glimpses she got of Doyle outside of hostage situations and shootings had shown her what unsettled her the most- that he was just a man. In the end, he was nothing special at all, nothing spectacularly evil, or misunderstood.

"You have his eyes," Hope says, eventually. Maura manages a weak smile. "You have a half brother, you know. Nathan. I'm sure he'd…like to meet you." Maura is suddenly tempted to bring up Colin, but decides against it. The chances are good that Hope hadn't known he had existed, and she's not willing to explain it all. She wants to find Jane and thank her, apologize…she wants to be with Jane. And it's strange how being here in a room with someone she ought to feel connected to is only bringing out in her that same need she's been ignoring for weeks. Jane. She needs Jane.

She can see that Hope is making an effort to be accommodating- smiling too widely, for starters, and it's very clear to Maura that the clothes she's wearing are new, or perhaps not hers at all, because they fit awkwardly- but she doesn't have the patience for it anymore. As much as she knows she needs to reconnect, now isn't the time or the place. "I'd like that," she says, mostly as an afterthought. "I…you caught me at kind of an awkward time, I'm in between cases, and…" and I'm lying again, she adds guiltily. It's astonishing how quickly she's gotten the hang of it, actually, but this is the last time she'll do it. She needs Jane.

.,.

The second time Maura comes to her door, Jane's ready for her. She expects Maura to find her, expects a confrontation, but she's not sure whether she should expect Maura to be pleased , or…well, angry. As it turns out, she could never have predicted Maura's actual reaction. She wouldn't have it any other way.

So when the bell rings, Jane knows who it is without checking. It occurs to her too late that she ought to have checked anyway, given her history of being attacked and abducted, but before she can really think about it all the air is gone from her lungs and Maura is kissing her. It's like drowning. And, like a drowning woman, she clutches- finds the fabric of Maura's skirt bunching under her fingers as she kisses back, desperate for air, but more desperate for Maura. It's sloppy but it's the first time Maura has kissed her out of anything other than frustration, and she can feel the difference, even if she can't describe it. It's perfect.

"Thank you," Maura murmurs, then kisses her again.

Jane hears those two words something like six more times before she can grasp the absurdity of kissing Maura right in the doorway of her apartment and uses what leverage she has to pull them both inside. "I'd do it again," she mumbles into another kiss, and she's referring to everything, from shooting a man through her own stomach to beating the shit out of Maura's half brother. She'd do any of it again, and in a heartbeat.

Heartbeats are the only thing besides clothing keeping the two of them from losing track of where one ends and the other begins. They don't match up- Jane can feel Maura's hear beating staccato through the thin silk of her shirt, and she knows Maura can feel hers, too, because her thumb is pressed into her wrist as she pulls the both of them back to where she knows Jane's bedroom is. She stops them, breathless, only feet from the bed. When Maura pulls away her eyes are glassy and her lips are swollen and raw. Jane decides that this is the way she likes Maura best- disheveled and all because of her.

.,.

Jane breathes her name and the words rise to Maura's lips without warning. "I need you." She means 'I love you', but the effect is about the same. It's like a catalyst. Jane immediately goes for the buttons on her blouse, and in her haste she pops one, just as Maura reaches down and practically whips her belt out of its loops. The detective lets out a frustrated little growl and pauses, as if waiting for permission to ruin her shirt completely, and Maura gives it with half a smile: "You owe me a new shirt."

Jane wastes no time in getting that shirt as far away as possible. Buttons fly every which way and Maura would have been laughing if her mouth hadn't been better occupied below Jane's left ear. Jane also manages to do this without leaving Maura's arms for even a second, which is good, because she's not sure she's ready to let go.

Maura gets Jane's pants unzipped eventually (it has nothing to do with the fact that her hands are shaking) and pushes them off the brunette's slim hipsThe scar tissue on her right side surprises Maura for a moment, but when she's reminded of that injury, of that day, her heart skips a beat.

Jane distracts her when she kicks her pants and shoes away; Maura becomes aware of the loss of contact just in time for Jane to toss her socks away and then they're attached once More. Maura takes advantage of the element of surprise and drags Jane down with her when she flops backwards onto the bed.

.,.

Jane braces herself with one arm, hovering. In their current position, Maura's neck is more than accessible, and she'd be lying if she said she could resist swooping in for the kill. She can't. And when Maura arches up underneath her, she finds that what she really wants is to hear her. She can remember vaguely that Maura had been quiet the last time they did this, and that's not going to cut it this time, not by a long shot. So she sucks hard at Maura's pulse point, then scrapes her teeth along the hollow between her neck and shoulder, and can't help but grin when Maura reacts with a beautiful, breathless moan. She doesn't even notices she's still wearing her button-down until Maura starts tugging at it.

Jane's not surprised by how quickly Maura manages to get her shirt off, and without popping any buttons. What she's surprised by is how easily Maura wriggles out of her skirt, once Jane manages to get it unzippered. Maura's bra is a front clasp (of course, because efficiency is and always has been of the utmost importance) and Jane flings it away before Maura can even reach around to find the clasp of hers. There's a lot of fumbling, then, and in another time and place it would probably be pretty funny, but as it is there's mostly just so much to touch. Jane is suddenly very glad that Maura seems to be so much more coordinated than her, because she's not sure she would have been able to get those panties off quite that quickly- but from here on out it's her game.

Fingers curl- Maura's into the bedspread, and Jane's into Maura. Truth be told, she's fascinated by this, by the way Maura responds to her touch. Against the wall she hadn't been able to see much of anything, and she can remember how badly she had wanted this view: Maura splayed out below her, flushed and breathing shallowly. All for her.

"Jane," Maura breathes, but hardly moves, as if she's afraid that might make Jane lose contact with her. It almost looks like she's about to say something- to thank her again, maybe, or to apologize, or something equally unnecessary. Jane quiets her, tilting her hand just so, unsure of why she'd be any good at this but knowing that Maura's slow climb is becoming much faster with each second. "I know," she murmurs into the softness of Maura's neck, "I know."

Somewhere in the haze of the minutes that follow Jane feels Maura's knees come up, brushing her hips. Maura had been quiet the first time they'd done this, but Jane realizes now that she had been quiet out of spite, or out of anger, because she's loud. Jane's Italian, used to loudness, but this is surprising even for her. Surprising and hot as hell. Maura is moaning and whining and panting and when Jane rubs against at just the right place it sets her off into a whimpering moan that trails off into a sound the likes of which Jane has never heard in her life- certainly not from Maura. "Jesus," Jane pants, finally able to brace herself with both hands and roll onto her back.

"Indeed," Maura agrees breathlessly beside her. Jane almost makes a jab at her for that, but before she can Maura has moved to roll on top of her. "Talk about turnaround time," she mutters, half-playful and half honestly in awe.

"Yoga," Maura smirks, and it's then that Jane realizes how far in over her head she really is.

.,.

Maura, for her part, is surprised how slowly she recovers. She's normally less than fulfilled by sex, which is why she has tried it more times than Jane has; she has always had a theory that she might be a tad asexual but biromantic, until Jane came onto the scene.

And oh, would she come.

Maura grins at her own 'filthy' joke (nothing, she is sure, by Jane's standards), watching as Jane's pupils dilate, the speckled sable of her irises going dark as soon as she realizes the attention is all on her. Maura's whole body is buzzing with serotonin and adrenaline and the realization that Jane more than probably loves her, and is a fantastic lover besides. It's not as though Maura expected otherwise, but she limits herself from guessing most of the time, which leaves her perpetually pleased and surprised. Such is the case with Jane.

Maura knows Jane. She has spent yoga classes subtly stealing glances at Jane. She might have seemed concerned- a mentor, perhaps- but what she was really doing had been much less innocent. Not as if Maura had ever claimed to be innocent, but it would more than likely have shattered Jane's vision of her as such. The fact is, Maura has spent yoga classes running her eyes over the expanse of Jane's lithe body, the body that she now has all to herself. Each curve and lean line that her eyes have traveled over, her lips cover, and Jane shudders and makes low keening noises beneath her.

Twice, Jane has brought Maura to a ridiculously overwhelming climax. Now, it's Maura's turn.

She wishes desperately that there was a way for her to watch what her attention is doing to Jane, but the vocalizations are more than enough. By the time she gets to the waistband of Jane's simple cotton panties, the detective is writhing and tugging at her hair. She looks up just for a moment and catches the way Jane is staring down at her, eyes gone dark with lust. She keeps their gazes locked when she tugs them down, though Jane doesn't make it easy, struggling to kick them away instead of letting Maura do all the work. Not that that's surprising at all.

The second she makes contact Jane arches off the bed almost completely. Maura can't help but wonder, vaguely, how long it's been for her, but any coherent thought is immediately erased from her mind. She learns. She learns quickly, she always has, and this is no exception. She figures out what Jane likes- the right combination of pressure, the right angle, all of it- and it's not long before Jane starts to tremble. Maura smooths her thumbs over Jane's hipbones, and just like that Jane' snaps.

.,.

Jane isn't sure she's ever been so out of breath in her life. She's in good shape, but apparently she's not in good enough shape for…for whatever the hell has just happened. She's still gasping for air by the time she realizes Maura is curled beside her, watching- and when she looks over she can't help but be surprised by the smug look on the doctor's face. Smug. Honest-to-God smug, like she's just solved a case all by herself.

Jane rolls over and gathers Maura into her arms, and Maura laughs, for the first time in what Jane thinks might have been a long time. "You needed that," Maura tells her breathlessly. Jane bites Maura's shoulder, getting an indignant 'hey!' in response. "Shut up," Jane mumbles, but she's smiling still, in awe of how perfectly they fit together. Maura seems to agree, intertwining their legs and burying her face in the crook of Jane's neck.

It occurs to her to ask how things went with Hope, but she's pretty sure Maura will tell her when she's ready to. Besides, she's pretty sure she knows the answer.

"I'm sorry," Maura says, and it takes Jane a full thirty seconds to realize what she's talking about. "I'm sorry for…everything. I should have been there for you." It's true, sort of, so Jane's not sure how to answer her. She can't count how many times in the last few weeks she wished that she had Maura to talk to. Still, she can't help but feel as if most of it is her fault to begin with. Maura clearly takes her silence for something other than what it is. "I can go."

Maura moves as if to get up but Jane pulls her closer, refusing to let her go.

"Stay."

When Maura speaks again, what feels like hours later, her voice is tremulous, and it's a little ridiculous how happy that actually makes Jane. If she had any doubt that Maura really wanted this, wanted something, that alone would have convinced her.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."