AN: Y'all, I am sooo sorry about the long wait. But, here's the new update. I haven't fixed it up at all because I wanted you guys to have it tonight, so I'll go back tomorrow and edit out the bugs. I hope you're still with me and with our favorite ladies. Thoughts are appreciated. Love.

Jane threw the file down on her desk in disgust. "This is bullshit," she growled. She let out a string of obscenities under her breath.

"Jane," Frost's voice was hesitant, unsure. She spun in her chair, twisting her head back to look at him, and merely raised in eyebrow in question. "Isn't it...umm...Friday?" She stared at him. "It's Friday right?"

"Friday? Well, whaddya know. It is. Let's get the boy a goddamn medal. He knows his days of the week. I'm so proud," she put a sarcastic hand over her heart. "I know what day it is. Thanks," and then she spun back around.

"But. Bu-But," he seemed to be trying to decide whether of not to finish his thought. She rolled her eyes. "But it's 1:45. I-I mean, don't you have to, you know," he indicated towards the door.

"1:45? 1:45? Oh my god! He's a bonafide genius. Did y'all know our Frosty boy can tell time over here. Somebody call the mayor, the president, someone! He deserves to be fricking put on a monument. Holy hell. I didn't know you passed the first grade."

Now it was Frost's turn to roll his eyes. "Whatever," he mumbled, flushing when he noticed several other detective's looking their way.

She forced herself to take a deep breath before turning fully to face him head on. It wasn't Frost's fault she was so ramped up. It was nearly two, and the fact that she didn't have to be leaving was causing her quite a bit of distress. "Sorry, partner," she murmured, blushing when he looked at her in surprise before managing to school his features into a collected mask. Jane didn't apologize. Ever.

He nodded in gratitude, and then waited patiently. There was more. And he knew it. Jane felt undeniably grateful for her partner in that moment.

"It's just," she sighed, scuffing her foot on the old linoleum floor. "Well, you know how Constance is here?"

He nodded again.

"And Maura's dad is coming in tomorrow. Well, it's just that I've been working and Constance has been spending the past few days at the house, and she and Maura have been talking a lot. Like a lot, a lot. Which is good. It's great," she hastened to add, not wanting to sound too much like a ninny. "So, Maura decided that she wanted to ask Constance to go today. T-to take her to her appointment."

Frost didn't speak.

"So, you're right. It's time for me to leave, but I don't have anywhere to be. And, it's fine, ya know," she looked up at him, meeting his understanding gaze. "I'm so happy that she and her ma are reconnecting or whatever. It's just that I-I-I-"

"You've been going," he finished for her. "Every time. You've been there. Every day."

"Exactly," she breathed. "But it makes me feel...weird...to admit that. Clingy or overprotective. Like my mother," she huffed under her breath, frowning when Barry smiled at her admission.

"Hey," he raised his hands in the air in surrender, "Angela Rizzoli is one tough lady. I for one never want to be on her bad side."

She rolled her eyes.

Frost looked thoughtful. Jane bit her lip while she waited for him to really answer. They didn't normally do heart-to-hearts like this. Maura was the one she went to with that kind of stuff, grudgingly, and usually only after a beer or three. Sometimes she and Frankie would hash this shit out while they were out on the court, working it out. Frost was her partner, yes, and her friend, but lately, she'd begun to realize that he was also family. He came to Rizzoli Sundays and he'd been present for everything with the medical examiner. He'd accepted the two of them without batting an eye. He was solid. Barry Frost was strong and dependable and, despite his fondness for action figures, he was a good detective. Jane trusted him with her life. She trusted his opinion.

"I bet she wouldn't mind if you went, too," he suggested, but the brunette shook her head immediately.

"I want to give them this time, this space. It's good for them, ya know. I just..."

"She's not trying to replace you, Jane."

The lanky detective stared at him, wondering when he'd gotten so perceptive.

"You know how important work is to the Doc, and she knows how important it is to you. It must kill her to think of you taking all that time off, to think of what you're giving up for her."

"I don't care about that," Jane interjected quickly. "It's not as important."

"No," he drew out the word. "But, Maura is one of the nicest people around. You know that. And she loves you, like really loves you, Jane," he waited until she acknowledged his statement with a nod, "So, she probably feels a little bit guilty, or a lot, to be taking you from what you love."

"I love her," her voice was fierce and protective, and Jane felt butterflies in her stomach as she pinched the words out.

"Hey, I get it," her partner leaned back in his seat as if to assure her that he wasn't attacking her claim. "Hell, anybody could tell just by looking at the two of you for a few seconds." He ignored her when she shifted in her chair. "I'm just saying, that you're right; it's great for Maura and her mom to connect over this. And it probably makes Mrs. Isles feel useful and helpful. But Maura isn't trying to replace you. She's giving you a break, some time off. Because she loves you," he enunciated each word carefully.

Jane mulled over his words. He was right of course. He usually was, even if she and Korsak gave him crap. And Jane really was pleased that Maura and Constance were getting along so well, that the mother had stepped up to the plate, and that Maura was accepting her help, was slowly coming to realize that she wasn't a hindrance for her parents, that it was alright for them to put down their lives for a bit and rally around her.

It had been ridiculously sappy and heartwarming to come home the day before to find Maura and her mother on the couch, an old photo album held between them. To see Maura resting her head on her mother's shoulder like a small child while Constance recounted the events of each picture softly and fondly. To see little Maura in a pink ballet tutu, or her green eyes bright with excitement over a new microscope she'd gotten for Christmas, a tween Maura lounging in a window seat, book in hand, or one that must have been taken without the teenager's knowledge where she was lying on the grass, her head resting on her arms, looking up at the clouds, face hidden behind the splay of golden curls. And afterwards, after dinner, and more stories, and after Constance had retired to her hotel room and Jane and Maura had crawled sleepily into bed, when Maura hadn't been able to stop talking about the photo album, Jane had felt her heart nearly burst with how happy she'd been. She'd listened to her lover ramble on and on about the things Maura hadn't realized her parents had witnessed or noticed from her childhood, and she'd been undeniably grateful to the older woman for coming when she had. For giving Maura something to focus on, for making the medical examiner smile in a way she hadn't in quite some time.

There were still issues there. Tensions, like when Maura had mentioned a show she'd done when she was twelve and Constance had merely looked at her daughter blankly until the ME realized that her parents had been in Germany at the time. Or when Constance's phone had rung at dinner and she'd gone into the study to answer it. Jane had felt Maura's fear at that moment. Her fear that her mother might come out and with an airy apology, rush out the door on some matter of business. But, instead, Constance had returned to the meal quickly, and she didn't mention the call or look at her phone again for the rest of the evening. The older woman was sincerely trying, and Jane was grateful to her.

"Jane?" Frost's voice pulled her back from her musings.

"You're right," she sighed. "Thanks, partner," she gave him a sincere smile. One which he returned.

"I'm pretty sure moral support is in my contract," he joked. "But, speaking of taking some time off, some of the guys are getting together at the Robber tonight for the game. You're welcome to join us if you want."

"I don't know..." she considered. "I should probably get home."

He shrugged. "A little therapy can be good for the soul."

"I'm not sure if beer counts as therapy, Frosty boy."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"We'll see," she allowed. And he grinned at her.

"This some kind of sharing circle?" The two detectives glared over at Crowe who was walking back to his desk. "Keep your lady problems at home, girls," he smirked at them.

Jane felt her hands curl into automatic fists.

"Oy! You two!" Korsak bellowed from across the room, disrupting the sudden tension. They looked up at him in unison. "Are you gonna sit on your asses all day or come over here and help me solve this murder?" They both groaned, but rose from their seats.

"Another day, another dollar, right partner?" Jane clapped Frost on the back good naturedly.

"If you say so," Frost groaned, letting her lead the way over to the murder board where Korsak was glowering at the information they'd managed to gather for their current case.

"Constance? Oh, um, hi." Jane was surprised at the voice on the other end of the line. "I just, I was calling to talk to Maura. But, um, how'd i-it go?"

The other woman's voice sounded distant over the telephone line. "Yes, I believe it went...well," she was hesitant with her word choice. "I met Ann."

Jane smiled at the thought of the fiery nurse.

"She seemed very," another pause, "strong. But, we're home now. Maura is resting on the couch. She said it went well. I wasn't sure how I'm meant to judge such things."

For a moment, Jane felt sorry for the older woman. She'd been in that position: not sure how to act, how to tell exactly what the situation entailed, what to say or do. It was both maddening and terrifying, especially if you were used to being in control of the situation all the time.

"But, from what I could tell, it seemed fairly routine," Constance continued.

Routine. Jane let out an explosive breath. She hated that chemotherapy was routine. "Right. Well, that's good."

"I believe she misses you."

"Excuse me?" Jane asked, confused by the sudden change in topic.

"Maura. That is to say, the past few days I've come to realize how much she relies upon you. And she misses you when you aren't with her. She looks for you sometimes, like when she enters a room."

Jane gripped the phone tightly.

"I just - I wanted to say thank you. For being the someone that she looks for. And, also, I know that I apologized to Maura, and that one apology does not outweigh decades of mistakes, however, I wanted to say thank you to you for allowing me the opportunity to try to set it to rights with her."

"I didn't do anything," Jane spoke past the sudden lump in her throat.

"Perhaps not directly, no, but you have obviously been wonderful for Maura and I am grateful to you."

The detective wasn't sure how she was meant to respond. "It's easy," she whispered, before clearing her throat and repeating herself. "It's easy. Loving her," she clarified. Jane didn't speak about her feelings, but this was the second time today she'd admitted to her emotions for the good doctor to outsiders. It felt...strange.

"I suppose so," Constance mused. "Would you like to speak to her?"

"Is she - is she sleeping?" Jane didn't want to wake her, but she desperately wanted to hear Maura's voice. Constance may have told her chemo went fine, but Jane wouldn't feel reassured until she spoke to her girlfriend herself.

"I don't believe so," there was the sound of footsteps, and then Constance's voice came through the speaker, muffled, as though she had her hand pressed over the mouthpiece. "Maura, dear. It's, Jane." And then there was a shuffling as the phone exchanged hands.

Jane glanced down the hallway in both directions, making sure the coast was still clear. She was standing at the end of the hall from the homicide division, having stepped out for a minute. She'd been planning on waiting until she got home, not wanting to seem overbearing, but then Korsak had invited her out with the guys and so had Lee and Shane. She did want to stop by the Robber to see everyone. Like Frost had said, it'd been awhile since she'd gone out with everyone. But she wouldn't go without Maura's okay first. Without determining whether or not the medical examiner needed her home. Which, if her girlfriend made even a sound of discontent at the idea, Jane would exnay the plan immediately.

"Jay?" Maura's voice came on, quiet and a bit hoarse.

"Hey," Jane felt her own voice dip in response as she held the phone closer to her ear. "You sound sleepy," she murmured, and she felt that she could hear Maura smile over the phone.

"No," Maura denied playfully.

"Hives, Doctor," Jane joked. "How'd it go today?" she asked, serious now.

"Same as always. Ann asked about you. She wanted to make sure I was keeping you out of trouble."

"Doesn't she know I'm a cop?" The detective played. "And...everything...else?"

"It was fine."

"I hate that word."

"Jane," a tinge of warning there.

Jane sighed, frustrated. "Maura."

"I promise. It went just as they all do. And my mother was very helpful."

"Good," she growled.

"How has your day been?" Maura changed the subject quickly.

"Eh," Jane shrugged even though the other woman couldn't see her. "We've been chasing leads all day. No luck so far. Frost is on a call right now. But I doubt it will come to anything."

"Will you be done at six?"

She paused at the question. Would she? Yes. Should she ask? She debated internally for a moment before, "Well, actually, I wanted to talk to you about that," she admitted. "Some of the guys are going out tonight to watch the game and have a few drinks. They invited me to tag along. Just at the Robber. But I told them I'd think about it."

"Okay."

Jane didn't know how to interpret the word. "Well, I just, what do you think about that?"

"Think about what?"

"Me. Going out."

There was silence on the other end. "Jane."

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I love you." Maura's voice sounded shaky.

"I-I don't have to go, Maur. I'd be just as happy to come home and see you. You know what, this was a stupid idea. I'll just go and tell Frost no." She was speaking too fast, she knew, but she couldn't stop.

"No," Maura cut her off. "I love you."

The detective felt herself relax. "I love you, too."

"And I want you to go out with your friends."

"But-"

"I'll be fine here. My mother will stay until you get home and I'm sure Angela would love to come over and visit."

"Maur," she was half pleading, half unsure.

"Jane, you know how much I love having you home with me. But this-this illness has started taking over our lives and I don't want that. I especially don't want that for you. So of course I want you to go to the Robber and "hang out,"" the air quotes were clearly visible in Jane's mind's eye, "with Barry and Vince and whomever else. I won't be upset when you do things that make you happy, Jay."

"You make me happy," Jane pouted.

The medical examiner laughed softly. "Go out, detective. Have fun. You worry too much."

"Yes, dear," Jane parroted. "You'll call me if you need me?"

"Of course."

"I mean it, Maur," she threatened.

"I know you did. I love you."

"Love you, too, pretty girl," Jane smiled and hung up.

"Gotta call home and get permission from your girlfriend to go out, Rizzoli?" Jane hadn't heard Crowe approaching. She whirled on him.

"Shut it, Crowe," she growled. Crowe had been growing bolder and bolder ever since word about her and Maura had leaked out into the precinct. Jane didn't particularly care how the word had spread. She was over that insecurity. People could think whatever they wanted. She loved Maura. Maura loved her. What anybody else thought was their business. But, so far, everyone had been fairly supportive, or at least, they hadn't mentioned it. But Crowe...he'd been a shit head since before he could walk. And his rude comments were getting real old real quick.

He merely smirked at her. "Never thought I'd see the day when the Queen of the Dead would have bad-ass Rizzoli whipped."

She advanced on him quickly, reaching out a hand to push him back against the wall, hard. "I would consider your next words carefully," she encouraged him dangerously.

"Jane!" Frost called her name from the doors leading to the homicide floor. "Case," he said, pointing at the file in his hand. He stared at her, waiting for her to remove her hand from where it still rested on Crowe's chest.

"Duty calls," Crowe sneered.

"Shut up," Jane snarled at him, before letting go and heading towards her partner. The warm glow she'd had after speaking with Maura had disappeared. She and Crowe had never gotten along and they never would. She just hoped he watched his back. He could say whatever he wanted to about her, but Maura. No. The medical examiner was off limits.

"Good?" Frost asked her quietly as she approached.

"Fine," she grunted.

"Want some of us to take him out back and show him a lesson?" her partner teased softly.

She glanced at him thankfully. "Nothing I can't handle," she assured him. And Frost nodded in understanding before glaring down the hall at Crowe's retreating back. "Come on. If we want to get to the bar before the game starts, we better start moving on this case. Otherwise Cavenaugh is gonna make us stay late, and I'm not sure I could handle that today."

"You're coming?" Frost looked pleasantly surprised.

"I might even be buying," she agreed. "If you help me with my paperwork."

"Deal," her partner agreed, reaching out to shake on it.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is that...it is! Jane Rizzoli, ladies and gentlemen!" Jane laughed and waved away the round of applause that swept the cop bar upon her entrance. She groaned but gave a half-hearted bow before heading for the bar.

"Thanks, George," she smiled as the bar tender handed her a glass already full.

"Haven't seen you around in awhile, Rizzoli," the barkeep responded.

She shrugged. "You know how things go."

"I do," he nodded. "Jane," she looked up at him. "I was sorry to hear about the Doc. We've all been sending her good thoughts."

Jane dipped her head in thanks.

"She's one of the good ones," George said, before heading off to fulfill another patron's order.

Jane tapped a finger on the dull bar before pulling away and heading for her usual booth. It always surprised her when people said things like that. She hardly knew George. He'd been tending bar since before she went through the academy, and he knew just how she took her burger, but she'd never really had a conversation with him. She glanced back to see that he was joking with a rookie. People were always surprising her.

"Janie!" her middle brother raised his glass in a toast at her arrival and scooted over so she could join him across from Vince and Frost. "About time you showed up," Frankie joked.

"Sorry, little brother. Had to finish up some things."

"Game starts in ten," Frost informed her.

She leaned back in her seat as the guys picked up their conversation, discussing stats and potential outcomes. She was pleased to see that nothing had changed. Sure, the guys still came over every Sunday, but there was nothing like the Dirty Robber on a fall Friday night after work, with the game on, and the room crowded with cops off for the weekend, conversation overflowing into the street every time someone new blew in, the click of the break as a new game of pool started over in the corner. This was the first place she'd come to after her first day on the job, the place she celebrated her promotion to homicide, the place she could unwind at, the place she'd come to after a rough day of no leads. She felt comfortable here. But that comfort was disrupted now when she thought about the empty space at her elbow. She wished Maura were beside her, red wine in hand, her designer dress starkly out of place in the dingy bar, admonishing Korsak for the donut he'd had for lunch, urging Jane to please just try the salad. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. No new messages. She could call...just to check in. But then Frankie was asking her opinion on something and Frost was arguing and her beer was getting warm, so she took a sip, and she slid her phone back into her pocket, knowing that she'd be home soon enough.

"I think I should get going," Jane said next to Frankie. They were up at the bar, grabbing another round for everyone.

"Nooooo," her brother very nearly whined. "C'mon, Janie."

She glanced at her phone and shook her head firmly. "I've already been here for over an hour and I want to get home and check on Maura."

Frankie's face went serious immediately. "Sure, alright."

"You guys are slow," Frost interjected suddenly, coming up from behind them and grabbing his beer out of Jane's hand.

"I think I'm gonna take off," Jane informed her partner. He gave her a knowing look.

"Alright.

"Gotta get home to your girlfriend?" The three cops turned at the sneering voice behind them.

Jane rolled her eyes. "Do you have a problem, Crowe?" she asked him, annoyed that it kept coming back to this.

"Who, me? Oh, no. I just think it's funny is all."

She didn't want to ask. She wouldn't rise to the bait, but, sighing, "What's funny?"

"Big bad Jane Rizzoli, taking down murderers and what not, and she's got the hots for the lady doctor."

"Right," Jane let out, before turning back to face the bar. Crowe was obviously a tad drunk and she really didn't want to deal with his crap anymore.

"Tell me," Crowe continued, "is Dr. Isles just as frosty on the inside as she seems on the outside?"

Jane spun around immediately.

"Or is it that she just has an icicle stuck up her ass?"

And with that, she very nearly launched herself at the man. Except Frost and Frankie caught her between them, stopping her headlong rush. "I've had just about enough of your bullshit, Crowe," she snarled.

He shrugged, ignoring the hot looks he was getting from her partner and brother. "Maybe it's karma is all."

"Karma?" Frankie bit out.

"Yeah, you know. She's always so high and mighty, above the rest of us with her photographic memory and shit, and then she gets brain cancer... That's karma if you ask me."

Jane felt her face grow white with fury. He had no right. No right. The bastard. She struggled to pull herself free from the arms holding her before she realized that she'd already been released. Frost and Frankie had simultaneously gone for the offending detective.

Frost got there first, punching Crowe ferociously on the nose. "Nobody asked you," he grimaced, holding his hand to his chest, as blood from the now broken nose squirted everywhere.

Crowe bent over, cradling his noise in his hands, but Frankie jerked him up by his collar. Jane looked around to see that George was watching them closely, but hadn't made a move to intervene. Those people around them had backed off a few paces, giving them space. No one looked at all sympathetic to Crowe's plight. "Don't you ever, ever, say that again." Jane had never heard Frankie sound quite so intimidating. "If you ever speak about Dr. Isles that way again, it will not end well for you, understand?"

Frost had turned to look at her, silently asking what she wanted them to do. She shook her head slightly and Frankie let go of the man with a grunt of disgust.

"Gonna go crying home to your dyke lover," Crowe bit out, glaring up at Jane.

And before either man could retaliate, Jane had stepped forward and punched the other detective again. "Never. Again." She ordered, bringing her knee up to the man's tender area. She felt cold, controlled, furious.

Suddenly, Cavenaugh was standing in front of them all. She hadn't seen her boss arrive. "Rizzoli," he barked, and she stopped, breathing tightly through her nose. "Gentlemen," the Lt. ordered two rookies from the crowd. "Escort Detective Crowe across the street to my office, please. He and I are going to have a little chat." He glared at his officer and then waited until the three men had made their slow way towards the door, Crowe leaning heavily on the other two. "I could have you three suspended for fighting," he stared at them, but Jane didn't look away. Crowe had offended Maura. He'd been disrespectful, beyond disrespectful. He deserved to pay for it. "But, I suspect it was well earned."

"He insulted the Doc," Frankie muttered, staring at the floor.

"What was that, Officer?" Cavenaugh barked at him.

"He insulted Maura. Sir."

"I see. Well in that case, well done. Rizzoli, would you like to discuss this now or on Monday?"

Her expression morphed from one of stony defiance to surprise.

"This is not Detective Crowe's first strike," Cavenaugh elaborated. "Will you be filing a complaint?"

Jane shook her head. It hadn't happened on BPD territory. She wanted to cause as little drama at work as possible. She could handle this on her own.

"Fine then. Monday it is. And Rizzoli, I expect you to get some rest this weekend. You look like crap."

She nodded silently.

"Tell Dr. Isles I say hello," he said, his voice softening. "George," he acknowledged to the barkeeper. "Sorry about the mess," but the older man waved him away. And then he was gone.

Frost and Frankie turned to look at her. Frost still cradling his hand. "You should get that looked at," she pointed at his tender appendage. Her voice felt flat, cold. She no longer felt angry. Instead, she merely felt controlled, tight, wound as though at any moment she would spring free. "I'm going home," she told them, and without waiting for a reply she turned and headed for the entrance. She needed to see Maura. Immediately.

AN2: What'd ya think? Still hanging on?