Author's note: Thank you all for the messages, reviews and suggestions; I see some people start wondering if something bad is going to happen... All I can say is that I will always write a happy ending.

Chapter Nine – Timothy Rizzoli-Isles

"It's very hot. Don't drink it right now." Jane held out a large mug of tea to Maura and sat down on her friend's bed with all the care in the world to make sure that she wouldn't cause Maura to spill the drink and burn herself. "I followed your recipe. I didn't add anything: no extra sugar, no milk... Nothing."

"Thank you."

Maura tried to sit up but an excruciating pain in her lower back prevented her from doing so. She swallowed hard – took a deep breath – and forced a smile. The last thing she wanted was to scare Jane. Her friend had really panicked the day before when she had been rushed to the ER. As a matter of fact, it had been the first time Maura had seen Jane in such a state and it made her feel guilty.

"Wait. Maybe if I move your pillow... Like that... You'll kinda sit up." Jane immediately put her words in action and helped Maura to settle against the pile of smoothness in her back. "Is it any better?"

Maura nodded and took a sip of her tea. The painkillers made her feel a bit numbed but she actually welcomed the sensation with great relief. At least she now had a chance to somehow be able to sleep at night.

"You didn't have to take a day off for me, you know. Our marriage is just an arrangement."

The silence that followed caused Maura to wonder whether she had done well to implicitly mention the accident.

Perhaps the only thing Jane wanted to avoid at all cost was to allude to the way Maura had slipped on the floor at the morgue and had fallen down rather violently. After all, it brought Jane back to her panic attack in the ambulance.

Maura pursed her lips. She really wasn't good at comforting people when they needed it.

"Look at you. You can barely move. I know the doctors said you didn't break a bone and there's no fracture either but I still think you should get some more x-rays. Maybe they missed something."

"I already got extra ones because you threatened the staff to throw a fit in the waiting room. I am fine. Everything is going to be alright. It was just a very stupid accident. Give me a week and I will be back on my feet."

Jane snorted in disapproval but she didn't add anything. She settled further on the bed instead and crossed her arms on her chest.

She had overreacted the day before and she knew it. It was humiliating. She had completely lost her nerves. What kind of cop was she? She was supposed to be in control, especially when facing an emergency situation. And what had she done instead? She had burst into cries and had clutched to Maura's shirt as if her life depended on it. Needless to say that the medical staff had bought the idea of their so-called marriage right away. A doctor had even told them that they would have to slow down on sex for a while.

Retrospectively, that was another embarrassing moment Jane wouldn't mind to forget.

"Fine. Then I'll take a whole week off. Cavanaugh won't say anything to that. He can't, anyway... We're married, I'm allowed to take these days off. I have plenty of them left and you need someone to take care of you. Maybe I can take advantage of this spare time to assemble baby furniture too."

Maura turned her head on a side to make sure that Jane wouldn't see her and she made a face.

She had witnessed it too many times already: Jane didn't have the patience to assemble furniture. She gave up after three hours of an intense fight with a hammer when she didn't even need one and she left the room in a mess.

"We could also..." Maura let her finger wander on the mug and shrugged. "... Start thinking about names. We have three months left but it is never too early to think about this kind of things. What do you think?"

Something warm started boiling in Jane's stomach. The pleasant sensation rushed through her veins – embraced her heart – and made her smile. She grabbed the ultrasound picture that Maura had set down on her bedside table and observed it for the thousandth time.

Everything was fine.

Their son was healthy - he was growing the way he was supposed to - and Petunia should give birth at the end of June just as it was planned. Jane hadn't said it but she had been moved by the sound of the heartbeats. She couldn't help thinking that her reaction was stupid and cliché but it was exactly how she had lived it. They had got all the pictures from the previous ultrasounds but they had never heard anything until the week before when they had accompanied Petunia to her medical appointment and the sound had added an impressive realistic touch to the whole thing. As a matter of fact, Jane still could hear the heartbeats in her head. Such a sweet melody.

"I hope he'll like sports." Jane's remark made Maura burst out laughing. "I'm not kidding, Maura. Some boys don't like sports... You can't force them to like something."

Yet she would definitely make sure to make him try baseball. He was a Rizzoli, after all. And Rizzoli people were linked to baseball. The Red Sox players were like an extension of the family.

"Timothy."

"What?" Jane swept away her sweet daydreams of baby heartbeats and looked at Maura before widening big dark eyes in obvious disapproval as she suddenly understood what her friend was talking about. "Oh no. No way. My son won't be named Timothy."

"But why? It means 'honored by God'..."

"You're atheist!" Jane sat up and laughed nervously.

She knew that they would argue over their son's name and she also knew that Maura was sadly very good at this game. She had to remain in alert. And strong.

"But your parents are Catholics. You could even call him Tim. Timothy Rizzoli-Isles. Don't you like the sound of it? I do."

"You know what? I'll go buy one these baby names books tomorrow and we'll go through the 700-pages thing together. I'm sure Timothy isn't the only name that sounds good with both our names..." Seeing Maura's mug was empty, Jane grabbed it. "Do you want some more?"

"No, thank you."

Jane squinted her eyes at her friend. She knew Maura way too well to ignore that she had something in head. A plot. It had to be a plot. Probably a Timothy plot.

"Why the smile, Maura?"

"You said it sounded good with both our names." Maura happily shrugged before winking at her friend. "I knew that you would like it. You are just not ready to admit it."

...

We shared the same bed, that night. It had happened many times in the past already but it was a first since we had got married. I asked Jane, almost shamefully. I didn't want to be alone and I knew that she felt the same. I had really scared her the day before and we needed each other even more than the usual.

I tried to roll on a side to take her in my arms the moment she settled in bed next to me for the night but the pain turned out to be too strong. So she did it instead. She told me to stop moving and without adding the slightest thing, she cuddled against me.

That had never happened before. We had always kept a certain distance.

I fell asleep to the warmth of her breath embracing my neck and to the odd sensation I was at the right place, with the right person. Of course I kept all these things to myself. It was confusing, and a bit embarrassing too. Jane was my friend. Our relation was awkward enough like that. If I had added this semblance of doubts I was starting to have, it would have made our life even more complicated than what it already was.

She stayed with me all week long. Petunia came to visit twice. She brought flowers and organic chocolate that a small grocery store sold by the campus. She was revising for her midterm exams but she still found the time to stop by and talk to me. It was also a nice occasion for Jane and I to see how she and our baby was doing.

What an active baby, constantly moving and kicking.

Jane bought a baby names book and we spent every single evening arguing over names. For some reason, I really liked the idea of calling him Timothy. It had come up by itself and I found it to be a very sweet name. But Jane kept on saying that it was too old school...

We asked Petunia if she had any preference but she said it was a decision she didn't want to take. She was the birth mother but she didn't want to choose the name. It wasn't her role as he would spend the rest of life with us. I guess I can understand what she meant, how she felt. My adoptive parents – your grandparents – only got to choose my middle name but then the circumstances of my adoption were slightly different.

Sadly I didn't manage to keep Jane away from this Ikea furniture and the moment I was finally able to walk again, the nursery had turned into a cemetery of wooden boards and hammers. She had opened most of the cardboard boxes but not a single piece of furniture had been assembled. She will probably tell you that this isn't true or that she didn't have a chance to finish what she had started because I didn't stop asking for help but – between you and me – this is just her way to hide a couple of things. You know how she is.

I loved every moment of this stage of our life. There was something exciting and incredibly sweet that made life more bearable. We kept on facing tough situations at work but we had a project outside of it. We had something to clutch to, something to focus on. Together. I remember we laughed a lot and shared endless conversations about the way we saw the future.

We were just happy to become mothers.

So happy.