A/N: No excuses. I've been the worst. Now please enjoy the latest installment if you're still reading. As a reminder, Maura's father has just passed away in the flashbacks.

Also, side note, Kalinda Sharma is a character from The Good Wife and I thought she would mesh well with my story. All you need to know about her will be provided within the context of my story. Thanks again for all the positive feedback :)

Her mother is drunk, and just as everything else she does, she does it poise and grace. Maura finds her at the dining room table, the clatter of pots and pans barely audible as Miss Vonnie cleans the dishes from the wake.

Maura stands a few feet away, feeling stiff and useless in her black dress.

"Would you like some?" Constance murmurs, nudging at the bottle of brandy, the amber liquid gleaming in the light of the chandelier.

Maura swallows, though she says nothing.

"I'm not naïve," Constance speaks with a heavy sigh. "I know that even my daughter, so quiet and reserved, must partake in the inter-fraternal actives that take place on campus. And if she does not, then I would be so bold as to suggest she does. You are only young once, Maura." Her voice almost quakes. She stands, retrieving another glass from the liquor cabinet. She pours Maura a healthy serving of brandy and refills her glass generously as well.

The first few sips sear her throat, but the motion soon becomes soothing, until she becomes dizzy with intoxication and grief.

XXX

"Ugh, there she is again." Jane looks up from her coffee, scoffing audibly. "She is one part of working in homicide I do not miss."

Maura follows her gaze across the cafe, landing on a petite Indian woman partaking in a heated discussion with Korsak. The woman's eyes are sharp, and she purses her ruby lips in disdain, though she holds herself with poise, not a hair in her sleek ponytail out of place.

"Who is she?" Maura asks curiously, watching the woman exit, her dark hair shining under the fluorescent lights as her boots clicking loudly against the linoleum floor.

"Kalinda Sharma. She's a private investigator for Lockhart & Gardner. Always nosing around here whenever one of their clients is involved with a case. And she's persistent. She'll be back within the next few days, I guarantee it," Jane explains, roughly biting a chunk out of her blueberry muffin. "She doesn't stop until she gets what she wants. But anyway..."

She's gone now, though Maura's curiosity is not. Her thoughts are interrupted, however, when Angela approaches their table. "You girls need anything?"

"Nah." Jane's voice is muffled through her muffin.

"I'm fine, thank you." Maura takes a small sip of tea.

Still, she lingers.

"Yes, Ma?" Jane takes a swig of coffee, her eyebrow pointedly arched.

Angela wrings the dishrag between her hands, clawing her lip between her upper teeth. "I was just wondering what you were doing tonight." Her voice is a small and unassuming.

"Robber after work with Maura." Jane burrows her face back into her muffin, radiating irritation. Maura, however, catches a smile in her teeth. "Why?"

"Aha!" Angela's face changes, her innocent prodding replaced by sharp accusation. "I knew you forgot!"

Jane glances up, a few muffin crumbs flaking down her chin. Her brow furrows, before she groans, swallowing the lump of muffin. "Shit. Is that really tonight?"

"Yes, Jane," Angela's voice is impatient. Maura imagines she had used it thousands of times, perfected on a daughter with a penchant for arguing. "We've known this for months now."

Jane grumbles, an inaudible spew of words. She picks at the edge of her muffin wrapper. "But what about my plans with Maura?" She corners her. Maura can see Jane trying not to smile.

Angela turns to Maura, a soft sigh on her lips. She imagines Angela would not be so forgiving if Maura were not sitting only inches away. "Maura, you are more than welcome to come to our welcome home party for Jane's brother, Tommy. He's, um, well…he's coming home from Plymouth today…" she holds her chin high, with only the pride a mother can have. Maura can recall Jane briefly mentioning her youngest brother, shipped off to a juvenile detention center for a crime unbeknownst to her. "In fact, we'd really love to have you."

"No, Ma. Please." Jane hides under her hands. "Forget I said anything. Of course family comes first. Maura and I can do something tomorrow."

"I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience," Maura chimes in politely.

"No, please, we'd really love to have you," Angela's tone is now nothing but sincere. "We have enough food - we planned on Casey showing up, but since his mother just had surgery and he's not coming, I'll have more food than I'll know what to do with."

"I suppose I could stop by for a little." Maura isn't quite sure who to appease - and spending time with Jane in any capacity never fails to thrill her.

"You really don't have to, Maura." Jane feebly protests, but it's clear that she knows she has already lost.

XXX

"Tommy's a little asshole," Jane launches into an explanation as she pulls out of Maura's apartment complex "Frankie 'n me…we got into to trouble of course, like any kid does when they're growing up, but Tommy always went one step farther. Me – I mostly just got scolded by Ma, but Tommy got in trouble with the authorities since day one. He got kicked outta kindergarten and had to be sent to the other class. He was always landing himself in detention. , and his school records are riddled with conduct cards. So no one was really surprised when he ran over a priest at crosswalk after underage drinking. Stupid little fuck." Jane clucks her tongue in disdain. "I just want to prepare you for the madness you've gotten yourself into."

They pull into the driveway shortly. It's a quaint house that looks properly lived in. The lawn in a bit over grown, the paint a bit faded, but the lights beam out from every window into the dusky evening, twinkling with warmth. On the end of the driveway, a rusty basketball hoop towers above them. Jane looks up at the hoop, her feet planted quite firmly to the pavement. "You know, we could always leave now and face my mother's wrath later."

"It will be fine," Maura assuages her.

"You clearly have no experience with my family. I don't know if I'm more embarrassed for myself or frightened for you. If our friendship ends tonight, I'd like you to know I've enjoyed every minute of it." Her smile hardly reaches her eyes.

If Maura were witty, she'd say something sarcastic back, but she merely places her hand on the small of Jane's back, giving her a gentle push toward the front walkway.

The inside of their house is equally as homey. The walls are littered with photos of the Rizzoli children. As they walk down the front hall, they enter a montage of Jane's life. Pudgy baby photos, gap-toothed smiles, questionable haircuts.

"Maura! Jane!" Angela flies at the two, adorned in an apron and bearing a cooking spoon. She hugs them both thoroughly. "You're just in time. Frank will be home with Tommy any minute."

"Hey, Maura," Frankie smiles through a mouthful of food. He offers a platter to Maura. "You gotta try these. Ma makes the best cannoli."

By the time Frank Sr. walks through the front hall, Maura is stuffed full appetizers. Frank is balding, a bit calloused, and permanently furrowed at the brow, but he smiles pleasantly at his wife. "Dinner smells great, Ang."

Tommy ambles in moments later, a cocky grin on his face that Maura can easily recognize as a family trait. "Miss me?"

Angela lets out a small sob, stuffing him into her arms.

"Ma," he groans.

"Shush. Welcome home, baby," she croons.

Maura feels like an intruder in an intimate moment, but Jane reaches for her hand. She doesn't have to say anything at all.