The next day, any feeble hopes that reduced the marriage conversation to a mere nightmare died. Jane came to work with an engagement ring on her finger. It was not in her nature to flaunt it; indeed, she seemed to go to great lengths to avoid mentioning it to anyone, but Maura noticed.

Since their earliest acquaintance, Jane's hands held a fascination for Maura, so much so that she habitually observed the most subtle and delicate of their movements. Slender and graceful, it did not matter that Jane never wore jewelry out of practicality. Such splendid bone structure required no adornment. But now that a simple engagement band graced Jane's left hand, it was all Maura could do to keep her eyes from it. She could not – figuratively speaking – wrap her mind around the fact that Casey's hands and not hers had put that ring on Jane's finger.

Jane tried not to notice the direction of Maura's gaze, but the two of them had long been so attuned to each other, she noticed almost every time. After work that evening, she gently confronted Maura about it over wine. She thought it might help clear the elephant from the room if they simply addressed this strange, puzzling, newfound awkwardness for what it was. It didn't take long for the opportunity to present itself.

As Jane lifted her glass to her lips, Maura's eyes fixated on the ring. Jane's dark gaze hung on Maura's face for a moment before reaching over to set the glass aside, breaking her friend's troubling trance. "Weird, isn't it?" she said, dropping both hands into her lap and slowly, absently rotating the band on her dominant ring finger. "Plenty of guys in the bullpen today said they never thought they'd see me wear one of these." She gave a dry chuckle, trying her best to open the topic for peaceful discussion.

Maura hesitated. "It is…different." She sighed. I may never get accustomed to it. "And given how much time and energy you've spent over the years cultivating the reputation that you have now…"

"What part of my reputation do you mean?" Jane fought to keep the frown from her face, but her head still tilted slightly to the side, uncertain. She reached for her wine glass again, eyes never leaving Maura.

Maura gestured noncommittally. "Just that…well, you are a strong, independent, and established professional." Jane raised her glass slightly in acknowledgement of this. A faint smile graced her lips. "You are a woman with a clearly defined career as her priority. Everyone understands this to be the…template, if you will, for who Jane Rizzoli is. Given this general understanding, it would make sense that some of your colleagues might find it…" she trailed off, searching for an appropriate adjective.

"Disconcerting?" Jane provided.

"Unexpected."

Jane considered this a moment, forehead creasing. Maura quashed the urge to reach over and smooth the furrows with her fingertips. Evidently reaching a verdict after a brief mental deliberation, Jane shrugged and lifted one eyebrow. "Fair enough. I guess that makes sense when you phrase it like that."

Maura managed a small smile, gratified that she could make herself understood.

"I guess…more to the point, I was wondering what you think. How you feel, Maura. That's more important to me than any of the guys."

Maura had to take a moment to collect herself. Jane didn't know how she affected the medical examiner. How could she? She didn't grasp the impact her words had in conversations like this. The thought that Jane would say, so simply and frankly, that Maura's thoughts and feelings toward the situation were of such value to her nearly brought her to tears. Just tell her. Maura thought. Just get it out. You will at least be relieved of the burden and feel better for it. And she almost did. She felt the words trade places with the wine on her tongue.

I love you, Jane. I'm in love with you and I think you're making a huge mistake.

But Jane's eyes on hers made her hesitate and rethink the impulse. Dark, warm, questioning eyes that sought reassurance, searched her face for it. Maura remembered then that this was as new – if not more so – for Jane as it was for Maura. The last thing her best friend needed now was an emotional wrench thrown in the works, and by the one person she trusted to keep her grounded through all this.

"I'm," she scanned her vocabulary once again for just the right adjective, "pleased. I'm pleased, Jane. That is, I'm happy if you are happy." Jane's expression remained doubtful. Maura hoped desperately that her physiology wouldn't betray the lie just this once. Seeing the uncertainty hadn't completely melted away from Jane's expression, Maura took her hand – her right hand, in an unconscious effort to avoid direct contact with the unsavory truth – and brushed her thumb across the back of it. The caress lingered each time it passed over the old, familiar scar. Whether she was conscious of it or not, Maura always paid special attention to Jane's scars whenever their hands happened to meet in a gesture of mutual affection. It was her way of conveying, beyond words, the equal value she placed on all aspects of Jane's being. Casey will never understand her. Not completely. Not enough. "You know all I want for you is to be happy."

She hoped these last few truths would be enough to counterbalance all the lying it seemed she'd been doing lately. No wonder Jane had begun to notice how "off" she was. Dishonesty, however slight, always took its toll.

Now Jane looked close to tears. She smiled and nodded. Neither of them had a word that quite encompassed this particular emotion of being moved to something that transcended the most profound happiness. But they felt it in moments like this, sharing their love and appreciation for one another. "I know." Jane ducked her head, then, suddenly shy. "And that means the world to me," she concluded, voice barely above a whisper.

And again, Maura found she had to look away for a moment and remember to breathe. Her heart constricted, and though she didn't realize it, she tightened her grip ever so slightly on Jane's hand. Jane felt it and couldn't help wondering what was truly bothering Maura. Sensing she'd asked enough questions of the doctor for the night, Jane just returned the squeeze on instinct, as holding Maura's hand seemed the most natural and sufficient thing she could be doing in that moment.

And all Maura could think was, I'm so afraid to let go.