DISCLAIMER: Do not own. But Janet Tamaro RT'd a blog of mine a few weeks ago about Rizzoli & Isles, which constituted a total geek-out-Sally-Field-you-really-like-me moment...so I'll take it. But would actually like Maura's couch too, at some point:)

When she first got to know Jane, she wasn't quite sure why the other woman always sought her out. After they'd met and had a few polite but pointed disagreements while standing over a body, she'd assumed that this would be like every relationship she'd ever had with a law enforcement officer. They would try to hurry her, tell her how to do her job. They'd hound her to reach a conclusion because of their nature – they were in service to the living. They had to move quickly to find answers, because if they didn't odds were more people would end up in her realm.

They never understood that they clashed with her over her refusal to hypothesise, over her methodical and minute examining of flesh and bone and clothing, because she was bound in service to the person on her table - and not the ones who might still appear before her. A medical examiner and a cop, she firmly believed, served different masters, and she would be as stubborn and intractable as she wanted because she would not devalue the life that had lived within the bodies in her charge by giving them any less than her all.

She'd told Jane-well, yelled this at Jane one day when she'd come stomping into her lab to harass her over the results of a sample. Jane's expression had darkened until Maura had seriously considered pushing the panic button hidden under the sink. She hated confrontation, hated marring the quiet, deep stillness of her lab. Hated the panicked beat of her heart and the adrenaline rush caused by the fight or flight response triggering. But she wasn't going to let the other woman stand there in her domain and tell her what to do.

"Detective, you can either come back in three hours, at which point I will have a definite answer for you, or you can wait here, without talking, for three hours, at which point I will have a definite answer for you. Those are your choices. I suggest you pick one." She'd bent over her notes again, pretending to be supremely unconcerned, sneaking a gaze up at Jane now and then while she waited, terrified, for the inevitable explosion.

Jane had looked taken aback, furious. Then something in her gaze had sharpened as she focussed on Maura's left hand, cradling a clipboard. As quickly as the anger had come, it disappeared, and Jane sauntered over to hoist herself up onto a lab table.

As Maura's mouth dropped open in surprise at this blatant disregard for the sanctity of her lab, Jane raised her chin at her, challenging. "What if I want to talk?"

Still shocked that anyone would dare just to sit on one of her tables like it was a chair, she'd blurted something that conveyed her disbelief that anyone would want to talk to the Queen of the Dead. All the officers knew what she was, and she had worked hard to accept that this was her role in the world– to be more comfortable with the dead bodies she encountered than with the live ones. "Why?"

Jane drummed her fingers on the table. "Because it's a slow day. And because you and I need to learn how to serve both sides. Tell me about your job."

She'd gestured through to her office. "Only if you get off my lab table."

Jane had jumped off, looking back at her with arched brows. "Thirty seconds. I totally won the bet."

She'd hurried after her into her office, her voice pitched higher than normal. "You were betting on me?"

Jane threw herself onto a couch, grimacing as she tried to get comfortable. "People would find you interesting, Doctor, if you give them half a chance." She had flinched, tried to cover it. Jane noticed. "I'm sorry, Dr Isles. I'm better at working with guys – women tend to require...more tact, I guess."

Maura had laughed, and Jane had looked up, surprised. "Detective, I work with dead people all day. If there's one thing I don't encounter often or grasp easily, it's tact. Don't worry about it."

Jane nodded, an expression she couldn't place flickering across her features. She patted the seat beside her. "So, I'm Jane. Kind of stupid to call me Detective for three hours."

She nodded, gingerly sat on the corner of the couch next to Jane, watching her warily. "Maura."

Jane leant forward, bracing her arms on her knees. "So, tell me about you, Maur –" She broke off, her expression somewhere between fear and amusement. "Okay, first you're going to need to explain that thing." She pointed to a statue in the corner.

Maura hesitated, but Jane just looked at her expectantly. "That is a cast of The Walking Man, by Rodin. It's about reconsidering what is true, because sculptors at the time only did full-figure sculptures and therefore he was able to challenge-" She broke off, embarrassed, remembering that most people didn't care about the things she did.

Jane just nodded. "I guess you do the same thing, huh? You challenge what's generally accepted to be the truth by finding evidence to prove otherwise. Although, Maura, seriously, it's too creepy to keep in your office. It doesn't even have a damn head."

And something in Maura had relaxed. She could do this. She could use her knowledge instead of small talk – and Jane wouldn't judge.

They'd talked for the three hours until the results came through, and then Jane had blown out again. She'd figured that, perhaps, this was a ploy on Jane's part to gain her favour, to get her to cut corners, to make assumptions, to give results faster. People had tried before, so she made a policy of not trusting people.

But Jane had come back, seeming to show up just when she took a break, slouching on her couch and complaining about how uncomfortable it was and telling her about her co-workers, and her family, bullying her into telling her about her own. She'd begun to tease her, had laughed at Maura's tentative jokes, seemed to be genuinely happy in her company. Maura, for her part had been at first bewildered...and then had realised that Jane, too, was looking for a friend. After Hoyt, they'd started to go for a drink, or grab dinner-

"-Maura?" Jane was waving her hand in front of her face. "Earth to Maura, hello? The people need you, O Wise One."

She blinked, trying to reconcile the past with the present, where she and Jane were broken and the trust they were trying to rebuild was still tenuous. "Sorry. What did you need?"

Jane just shook her head slightly and sat down next to her on the couch. "Where did you go?"

She'd headed here to take fifteen after being up all night, and had ended up lost in memories. "I was thinking about the day I yelled at you."

Jane watched her for a second, reading her, then raised a brow. "Yesterday? This morning?"

She smiled and lightly tapped Jane's thigh, careful to keep her voice light to match. "When we spent all that time talking. After you bet on me."

Jane tapped her back, smiling slightly. "I always bet on you."

She hesitated, then tapped again. "I have a question. You were angry, and then you looked at my hand, and then you weren't. Why?" She drew her hand back, but Jane caught it.

"You are intimidating, Dr Isles, even if you don't realise it." Jane laughed slightly, shook her head. "I wasn't going to let you delay my investigation, but I was scared of you because you can do cold anger and supreme don't-screw-with-me confidence like nobody's business and I was damned if I'd go in afraid of you – so I went in angry."

Maura studied their joined hands. "I remember. Vividly."

Jane snorted. "Mm. But you have a tell."

Maura looked up, into Jane's amused eyes. "I do not."

"Do too." Jane raised their hands, turned Maura's so that her thumb and little finger were touching. "You do that with your left hand when you're nervous."

She laughed. Nervously. "I do not."

Jane just smiled, getting up and pulling her up, too. "Well, I figured if you were as afraid of me as I was of you, we'd both better get over it and start working together. Plus, you know all sorts of weird crap."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks." She yawned and stretched, then eyed Jane. "Get over it and start working together, huh?"

Jane met her eyes, held. "Yeah."

She nodded, then stepped forward to carefully tug on a strand of Jane's hair. "Only if you stopping sitting on my lab tables, Detective."

Jane met her gaze, and her hand came up to run down Maura's shoulder. A teasing gleam came into her eyes. "Nah. How would I win any bets?" She spun and walked through the door, grinning back over her shoulder.

Maura hurried after her, indignant. "You still bet on me?"

"I told you. Always."

A/N: So Rizzoli & Isles is back and I've been trying to work it out, find the rhythm, figure out where they're going. They've surprised me with some things because I think they're trying to play to ratings a bit more now they've been picked up for another Season. But that heart, the soul that makes it special is still there. Maura has changed, in a good way – I think she stands up to Jane more now – she seems more sure of where the boundaries lie. I think I'll keep this as kind of a series of one shots but within the overall theme of them trying to repair their relationship and will probably go more into that push-pull coming up, mostly because I find it interesting as hell, so apologies if it bores everyone else to tears XD