Maura comes home after her shift to find Jane on her stoop, pizza box on her lap, six pack next to her on the second step.

"Jane!" she says, her knees a little wobbly. "A surprise!"

"A good one?" Jane stands, pulling up the lid on the pizza to show her half mushroom, half pepperoni."

"Always when it's you," Maura laughs. "Though the pizza doesn't hurt. Come in."

She will have to get her detective an extra key, she thinks idly. Her phone buzzes as she pushes into the front hall, and she pulls it out, praying it's not the hospital.

It is Aisha. You are a catch. Tell her how you feel.

"Is it work?" Jane asks from behind her, and Maura turns to see she looks disappointed.

"No," she says. "Just Aisha. Dr. Hamilton? She was just checking on me."

Jane nods, and doesn't ask anything more. She has a hook by the door for her coat, and a place where her boots usually go.

She has a spot on the couch that is hers.

Maura thinks the condo feels more like home than any other place ever has. And it is because of this woman, who is currently squinting at the medical book on her coffee table, grimacing comically at the graphic picture.

"I can't imagine seeing stuff like this every day," she says.

Maura smiles, heading past her to the kitchen for a drink. "And I can't imagine seeing the things a detective sees every day," she counters. "So we're even."

She is aware of Jane's eyes on her. It is the first day of Garrett's trial, and though neither woman has been called today, Maura can feel the knowledge around both of them, like a weight."

"When did you know you wanted to be a doctor," Jane asks suddenly.

"Oh, I think I've always known that I wanted to be a doctor," Maura answers automatically. She expects Jane to respond with her own story of becoming a detective, but when there is only silence, she turns looks up.

Jane is sitting on the couch cross-legged, and by the expression on her face, she clearly wants more.

"That's it?" she asks with a little laugh. "I ask you when you knew you wanted to be an ER surgeon, and you answer as though I'm interviewing you for the world's most boring magazine."

Maura looks down at the drink in her hands. "I'm sorry," she says before she can stop herself. And then, waving away Jane's whoop of celebration, "I'm not sure what else I'm supposed to say."

Jane curls a finger at her, and then waits until Maura has situated herself on the couch as well.

"You're not supposed to say anything, Maura. I'm not the Atlantic Monthly." She grins at Maura's surprised expression. "Yes, I read the article you wrote for it last month. You thought I wouldn't? I can read big words, even if I don't understand them."

Maura is too charmed to say anything for a moment. "You're very bright, Jane," she manages finally. "You sell yourself short."

"You do too," Jane says immediately. "And you shouldn't. I'm really asking. I want to know when you knew you wanted to be a surgeon. An ER surgeon."

Maura smiles down into her lap. "I'm not sure…" she pauses. "No, I do. I am. I do know." She looks up at Jane to make sure that the other woman really does want to hear what she is about to say. Jane is looking at her, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"When I was about nine, I found a dog that had been hit by a car on a side street in my neighborhood. I was alone a lot, and my family moved fairly often, so to keep myself busy, I would spend the days during the summer making maps of my new surroundings."

She glances up to see confusion flash across Jane's face. "I…I'd walk all of the streets within a square mile of my house," Maura explains hesitantly, "And then I would draw maps of everything that was there." She shrugs slightly. "It was a way to keep myself occupied."

"That's…really cool," Jane says earnestly. Maura can't help but believe that she means it. "Your parents didn't care that you were so far from home as a little kid?"

Maura blinks. She is trying to think of a politically correct way to answer, when Jane's hand on her knee makes her look up.

"Just say it, Maura."

"My parents were not especially watchful," she says, amazed at the relief she feels at being able to finally say the words. "They loved me. I never doubted that. But they…seemed unsure of how to interact with me as a child. They wanted me to be an adult immediately. So…I tried."

Jane's fingers squeeze her knee gently, and they sit for a little bit, not talking.

"So…you found a dog?" Jane prompts when the silence stretches.

"Ah," Maura nods, refocusing. "Yes. This was in Connecticut. We moved there at the beginning of the Summer, and the children in the neighborhood would invite me to play games with them, and then they would all run off and hide. I spent several days just wandering around, looking for them, before I figured it out."

Talking like this to Jane is bringing the past to life in an alarming way, and Maura tries to focus only on the pressure of Jane's hand on her knee, reminding herself that she is not that girl anymore.

"I found the dog on a side street. He'd dragged himself off to the side, out of the way. Like he knew that he couldn't stay where he was. His whole back leg was this one big bloody, gnarled mess. I knew that if I left him there, he'd die for sure.

"And I knelt down beside him, and I was petting his head, and telling him how sorry I was. I gave him the name Elion…She was the Biochemist who'd just won the Nobel Prize…" Maura drifts off, thinking. She can remember the way the dog's fur had felt under her hands. He hadn't cried, or tried to move away from her.

"He looked at me with these eyes," she says softly. "And…I just picked him up and brought him home. I couldn't leave him there."

Jane's hand suddenly disappears from her knee, and she looks around, startled, ready to apologize for getting so lost inside her memories.

But Jane is just readjusting. She shifts closer to Maura, and sets her beer onto the coffee table absently, so it sits lopsidedly on the coaster. "Did he make it?" she asks eagerly. "Did you take him to the vet?"

Maura swallows past a sudden tightness in her throat. "He made it. But, ah, no. I didn't take him to the vet."

"Why?" Jane asks, though there is no anger in her voice. Just curiosity.

It makes Maura brave. "My parents were, my father specifically. He was not always a very nice person."

Jane's face darkens, and Maura rushes on. "He expected his rules to be followed, I mean, and he did not have any trouble enforcing them. He said no pets." Maura swallows. "I remember being nine, thinking there was no way I could ask to bring him to the vet. I remember thinking, specifically, that there was no way I could involve anyone else."

Jane nods. It doesn't look like she's even breathing. Her eyes are fixed on Maura's face intently.

"So…I brought him home, and put him in the bathtub. I wrapped him up tight in an old bedsheet, and then I went into my father's study and read...God, I read and re-read all the books I could find about any type of surgery or medicine. I spent all night reading, and then…the next morning I went back into the bathroom…and I sewed and set Elion's leg."

"No way!" Jane interjects. She is fully enthralled, completely engrossed.

Maura finds herself nodding energetically. "Yes. Well, I fed him several of my mother's strongest pain killers, and some chicken and peanut butter. Then I went out to the garage and stole some of my father's tools. Borrowed. I thought if I did it myself…I couldn't just let him die."

"Maura…" Jane seems a little lost for words. "That is the most…amazing…badass thing I've ever heard. You were ten?"

"Nine," Maura says. "Well, I would turn ten in six months."

Jane is staring at her. "Holy shit," she says. "Now I wish I were a reporter. That's the best 'why I became a surgeon' story ever."

Maura takes a deep breath. "That's not why I became a surgeon," she says quietly. She looks up at Jane, expecting frustration, and sees only anticipation.

"It was the way he looked at me. When he woke up, I fed him, and he looked at me while I put little pieces of hamburger into his mouth. Like…" Maura tries to think of a way to properly verbalize the feeling.

Jane waits silently.

"It was like he didn't know me. But he knew that I could save him. I had hurt him, but I'd saved him. And so that was okay.

"It was that look that made me want to be a doctor. It was the first time that anyone – that anything had ever looked at me like-" But she breaks off abruptly, several new thoughts tumbling into her head all at once.

"Hey," Jane's voice is soft, very close to her. Maura realizes she has closed her eyes.

Tears are leaking down her cheeks anyway.

"Hey."

"I'm so…stupid," she says. It's all she can get out before the gentle hands on her face make her cry in earnest. "Don't," she murmurs, "I don't deser-"

"Stop," Jane says firmly. "Of course you do."

"He looked at me," she says between her tears. She is talking about Garrett now, but she can't make herself say his name. "He looked at me, and he was the first person in the entire world who'd ever…desired me."

She feels her cheeks get warm at the word. Jane's thumbs are stroking along her cheekbones slowly.

"I didn't…It seemed like the right thing to do, so I did it. It pleased my mother, that he was so wealthy and well known. It felt good, on the surface to have her approval."

"Yes," Jane says, like she understands.

"But after the first year, I knew I didn't love him." She can't stop speaking now. Not when she is being met with such amazing kindness.

"It's okay," Jane whispers. She moves closer and her arms wrap around Maura's waist. "It's okay to cry."

And so Maura does. She presses herself against Jane, and she cries until she feels wrung out. Until it doesn't feel so hard to take a deep breath.

"I don't love him," She cries into her shoulder. "I couldn't. I was leaving him. Why does it feel like this?"

"Because he hurt you," Jane says simply. "And all you ever did was try."

Maura nods, shutting her eyes against the tears threatening to start again. "All there was is hurt. I wanted to become a surgeon. An ER surgeon so that I could do something about all the insurmountable pain."

Jane doesn't let her go.

It is heavenly, just sitting in her arms. Maura shifts slightly to make herself more comfortable, and she is pleased and terrified when Jane does not take her movement to be rejection.

"I…like women," she whispers, squeezing her eyes tightly.

Jane nods above her. "Okay."

Can she feel the way Maura's heart is beating harder than it ever has? "I was leaving Garrett, because…I discovered I was – am – attracted to women."

"Okay," the same soft whisper near the back of her neck.

Be. Brave.

Maura turns to face Jane. "I'm attracted to y-"

But Jane's lips are on hers before she can finish the remainder of her sentence.

They kiss and kiss, and Maura is so completely stunned by the feeling, that for a long while all she can do is let Jane's lips move over her own.

Finally, when Jane's fingers slide into her hair and she is pushed backwards, her brain springs to life. She wraps her arms around Jane's waist and pulls her down on to her shivering at the groan this elicits.

When they pull apart, Maura looks up into dark eyes. They are hazy from kissing, searching her face as if to find any hint of a negative reaction.

"I've never kissed another woman before," Maura says quietly. "I've only ever thought about it."

Jane's eyes have focused on her neck. "How did the real thing measure up?"

Maura arches a little underneath Jane, entranced by how her breath catches. "It was wonderful."

Jane kisses her again, and this time, she drops almost all of her weight against Maura. The action makes them both moan.

Maura is hot. She is physically hot, the temperature inside her chest building like a tidal wave of want and pleasure. She breaks away from Jane's mouth, panting.

"I want," she begins.

But Jane's hands are slipping under her shirt. Her long fingers are tracing her ribcage, and she can't think of the end of her sentence.

Whatever she wanted is nothing compared to this.

"You're so beautiful," Jane says against her throat.

It's hard to think. Maura's body is humming. "I've...I've never," she stutters, and Jane stills above her.

"I'm sorry," she says. Her voice is deep and rough. She moves to pull away, but Maura's hands lock around her waist, holding her in place.

"No!" she says, more loudly than she means to. "No, don't...I just wanted to tell you that...I don't want you to be disappoint-"

"Stop," Jane cuts her off firmly. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I don't want to move too fast. But you could never be disappointing."

Crying will ruin the moment, but Maura can't help tearing up just a little. Jane leans to kiss the side of her mouth, an invitation that Maura accepts, turning her head to the side to press her lips to Jane's. Kissing her is unlike anything she's experienced before. She cannot get enough of it. She's only vaguely aware of the movement of her hips against Jane's, and the way each time she presses, she gets a beautiful little gasp in response.

"I want to see you," she says, when they break apart again. "I want to - I mean, if you'd let me. I'd love to see you."

Jane chuckles, sitting up over Maura and reaching down for the hem of her t-shirt. "Sure, doctor," she teases.

The shirt comes off. The bra.

Maura runs her hands along the muscles in Jane's back. She traces the swell of her breasts until the other woman is panting, eyes shut tight.

Jane is exquisite. Maura's hands find the little scar on her shoulder. She traces her fingers down her throat all the way to her naval. She leans forward and kisses a nipple, and when Jane moans, she does it again. The noises Jane is making are inside of Maura's body. They elicit a physical response.

It is a first.

"If you keep doing that," Jane growls. "I don't think I'll be able to - uh…" he checks and neck go pink.

Maura has the realization only seconds before the words come out of her mouth. "I want you to orgasm," she says quickly. "If that's what you want. I'd love to see you orgasm."

Jane's faint blush deepens. "Don't call it that," she murmurs, though her hips momentarily pick up their pace. Maura wonders if she could push herself over, just from the friction. Is it possible she has that effect on another person?

"I don't want to like," Jane breathes deeply. Stops moving. "I don't want your first time with a woman to be fully dressed on a couch," she says, looking Maura in the eyes. "We're not 17. Or even 30."

Maura nods. "So let's go to bed," she says.

Jane's mouth falls open. "Huh?" It is clearly not the response she was anticipating.

Maura laughs. "I said, let's go to bed then," she answers, more boldly than she feels. "If you want to. And it doesn't have to mean anything if you don't-"

But Jane kisses her again, and then scrambles off the couch, pulling Maura after her. She grabs her around the waist, pressing them together, and the feeling of Jane, bare-chested in her arms, makes Maura a little light headed.

"You make me feel...really good," Jane says into her neck. "You know that, right? And not just like...sex good. Just...in general good."

Maura can't say anything, so she squeezes tighter.

"And even if we just go upstairs and like, lie together and talk about nothing. Or if we start, and then you decide I'm not who you want to have your first time with...I just want you to-"

It is Maura's turn to make Jane stop talking, and she does so by pressing her hand to the fullness of Jane's breast.

"Bed," she says.

Jane smirks at her. "Yes, Doctor."

…

…

Maura goes to two more Rizzoli Sundays.

Frankie pulls her aside at the second one to tell her that although the entire family understands that she is Jane's new girlfriend, no one but him will ever acknowledge it. It is an agreement they've had since Jane came out. He hugs her though, and tells her he's never seen Jane this happy.

Maura hugs him back. Although he has answered several of her outstanding questions, he has not even touched on the biggest mystery of all.

The baby. Where did this baby come from? Jane is out. She's gay. So...the baby? Why was she pregnant?

But the more time she spends with Jane, the more she finds that she doesn't particularly care.

She hadn't been ready for sex that first night, despite how aroused she was, or how sexy Jane looked in just her underwear. And true to her word, Jane had taken her hand, and they had talked about nothing until she couldn't keep her eyes open.

She'd had thirteen texts from Aisha the next morning, all of them different variations on the cause of her death from 'not getting any information from the woman who is supposed to be her friend.'"

Maura had been in the middle of texting her back when Jane rolled over, opening sleepy eyes, and breaking into a smile when she saw Maura there.

And Dr. Hamilton would have to wait just a little bit longer.

Her lawyer calls her, in the middle of the third week, to tell her she will be called the following Monday. And that night, when Jane appears at her door, she collapses against her, crying.

It should not still hurt, and she is angry. She is so angry.

Jane promises to be there the entire time. It is this earnest, wonderful promise that makes her realize that Jane is with her.

She has not thought about the baby in almost eight days.

…

This is how the world explodes.

Maura is sitting in Jane's apartment with Angela. They are waiting for Jane to return from the precinct so that they can all go to the courthouse together. Angela had insisted that she would be there for Maura as well, and the declaration makes the doctor develop a lump in her throat every time she thinks about it.

When the landline rings, Angela moves to answer, but Maura suggests that she let it go to voicemail to avoid having to take a message. Angela taps her temple with a smile.

"Always thinking," she says.

Maura laughs, because this is a gentle barb that she has become used to from this woman. It is her way of showing affection.

And then, answering machine clicks on, and the world begins to crumble.

"Hi Jane, Dr. Hamilton. I'm just checking in with you. I know that you received some difficult news at your appointment yesterday, about your ability to successfully carry another child. I know that Dr. Roswell was probably a bit harsh, and I would love it if you would call to schedule an appointment with me. I know that the feeling of losing a child, on top of the reality that you might not be able to have another can seem overwhelming but the scenarios he laid out for you are all worst case, and there are still plenty of options left to you. I'd love to discuss them. Give me a call. 617-555-3450. Thanks."

They sit frozen on the couch, staring at the spot in the kitchen where the answering machine is plugged into the wall.

Maura turns her head slowly to look at Angela, praying she hasn't put the pieces together, while also knowing that there is no way she wouldn't have.

Angela stares wide eyed into the other room. Maura can practically hear her brain whirring, connecting dots that don't have anything to do with each other.

"Angela," she says quietly. "Jane-"

"She was pregnant," Angela says suddenly, her head jerking around to look at Maura. "She was...pregnant and now she can't have another baby."

"That is not what Aisha said," Maura points out. "She said that Dr. Roswell was a bit harsh with his assessment and she would like to discuss-"

"You knew," Angela cuts her off.

"I-"

"You knew she was pregnant, didn't you?" She is not really asking. She stares at Maura, wide eyed. On the very precipice of an emotion that is either anger or despair. Maura wishes she knew which.

"Yes." The truth is the only thing Maura can offer her. "I knew."

Angela stands slowly, and Maura wants to stand too, but she is unable to make her legs move. "For how long?"

"I…" Maura falters.

"FOR HOW LONG?" Angela yells.

"Since the night I went to walk Jo Friday," Maura says. "I...since that night." When she dares to look up, she sees that Angela is gaping at her as though she has never seen her before.

"And neither of you thought to tell me. She never-" she breaks off and turns away. It takes Maura a confused moment to realize that the other woman is looking for her phone. She intends to call Jane.

No.

She intends to yell at her.

Maura leaps to her feet. Before she has really registered her own movements, she is accross the room, yanking the little cell phone out of Angela's hands.

"Maura! What are you doing?" Angela asks, bewildered.

"You can't yell at her," she says, gripping the phone tightly. "You can't call her and tell her we know. She's kept it from us for a reason."

Understanding flashes in Angela's eyes for a moment. "You don't understand," she says in a voice that almost drips condescension. "This is something I've wanted-"

"What about what Jane wanted?" Maura asks, her voice rising. "What about what Jane is feeling?"

Angela stares at her. "She was going to have my grandchild, and she didn't tell me," she says. "I have every right to be-"

"Her child," Maura cuts her off again. "Before it was your grandchild, it was going to be her child. So that means she gets to tell us if and when she's ready. And not a moment before."

Maura doesn't know where these words are coming from. She doesn't know that she's ever spoken to anyone like this before. But all she can see when she blinks, is Jane's sleepy smile when she wakes up in the morning.

Jane's hand in hers as they walk to the park with Jo Friday.

Jane, dropping by after her re-certification with flowers, grinning shyly at Aisha and kissing Maura on the cheek.

She protects the city, and her mother and brothers, and Maura...and herself. And it must be so tiring. So Maura will protect her now. No matter the cost.

"Leave her alone," she says now, surprised at how dangerous she sounds. "Whatever hurt you feel is nothing compared to what she's feeling."

Angela regards Maura for a long, cold moment. "My grandchild died to save you," she says finally.

Before sleeping with Jane, before making eggs in the morning and laughing at a comics section she'd never even glanced at. Before a woman left trail of spinach and strawberries through her kitchen in an attempt to befriend her tortoise, and before she had a running partner who never left her behind, this sentence was Maura's worst nightmare.

Now. She finds that it barely grazes her.

"Yes," she says. "And whatever guilt I feel is nothing compared to what she's feeling."

Angela blinks at her.

"If she wants to tell me, she will," Maura says. "We have a relationship. We are in a relationship, and if she felt...if she held me personally responsible for the loss, then we wouldn't be." The words are like a revelation as she says them. When did she start to believe them?

"She's brave, and loyal, and she loves you so, so much, Angela. If you call her to tell her how hurt you are that she lost your grandchild, she will let you chide her, and listen while you express your disappointment over a job that she was born to do. She won't protect herself from that. She'll be sarcastic and witty, and she'll take it." Maura squares her shoulders, looking Angela right in the eye. "I won't let you."

Angela's eyebrows almost reach her hairline. "You won't let me?" she asks sounding genuinely surprised.

And a voice from the doorway makes them both spin around, shocked.

"You heard her," Jane says. She's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed across her chest. "She won't let you."