There was nothing like the rush that came with war.

Jane Rizzoli had just saved four men from their platoon, barely blinking an eye. Congratulations were heard all around, but the person whose acclaim she wanted more than anyone else's, even their commanding officer's, was Booth's. He was without a doubt the best friend she'd ever had, and thus the person she most wanted to impress. Time and time again she had tried to talk herself into trying to date him, but she just couldn't do it. She couldn't help but enjoy Booth's company as just a friend while she secretly pined after Katy Miller, a girl in their platoon…

She finally got Booth alone. He gave her a congratulatory bear hug, and as they got to talking, things somehow turned serious. He was holding her hand, but it had seemed like a brotherly move to Jane at the time. Now, though, he was looking meaningfully into her dark eyes, misreading the apprehension he saw there, seeing what he wanted to see.

"Jane," he whispered.

"No, Booth, please," she said, pulling her hand back.

"I can't just keep it in anymore," he said. "Do you…?"

"We're not allowed to fraternize," she stammered, having a very clear idea of what he'd been about to ask.

Booth laughed at the hope that this was the sole thing keeping her from him. "That only applies to commanding officers being with someone who's enlisted, or being with someone in a position to promote you! Jane, I've never felt this way about someone before …you're the most amazing woman I know."

Jane could only repeat, "Booth, please…" Tears were threatening to come out of her eyes, and she clenched her teeth to keep them inside. She did not want Seeley Booth to see her cry.

"Why not?" he asked patiently, getting the gist. Jane was trembling; when Booth reached for her hand again, she did not withdraw it, but her eyes remained cast at the ground. "Please, tell me," he said in a low voice. "What're you afraid of? Jane, I swear I would never do anything to hurt you. I'll cherish you for the rest of my life."

"No, I believe that," Jane said with a shaky laugh.

"Then what is it?" he prompted her in the same gentle voice. "Jane, I can't be mad at you for not returning my feelings if you don't, but you have to at least know …I love you, I really do."

With a sharp inhale, Jane turned to look at him again. He was somber, but became startled when Jane threw an arm over his shoulder and hugged him tightly to her. She couldn't hold in the tears anymore. "Booth, I—I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I wish I…" A long, shuddering breath escaped her in the form of a sob, and despite his rapidly breaking heart, Booth rubbed her back comfortingly. He had been so sure she'd return his feelings. But after another small sob, Jane went on: "I can't say I love you when I don't."

He nodded against her, bracing himself not to tear up. This was definitely not what he had expected when he'd planned to tell Jane he loved her. They'd become so close, they had bonded so fast—what was the problem? She had never mentioned a boyfriend from home, but maybe she had just never felt inclined to share… "Jane, it's okay," he said, trying to imbue his voice with much more light-heartedness than he really felt. "It's okay. You don't have to—"

"Booth, I'm gay."

They both froze. Jane had not planned on telling him this, because she was only recently allowing herself to acknowledge it. The thoughts had drifted in her head for several years, but she had still forced herself to date guys, sure that she just hadn't met the right one yet. She'd joined the army in the hopes that it would distract her, that it would give her something selfless to do, that it would be a legitimate excuse not to be with someone. But she'd known for a short while now that it was impossible, and that she was irrevocably attracted to women. She had just planned on never telling a soul, certainly no one in the army. Something had overtaken her just now, though. In a small, high-pitched voice so very unlike her normal tone, she had admitted to Booth her most carefully guarded secret.

He had pulled back to look her in the face. If he was surprised, he hid it well, and if he was angry, he hid it better. But Jane didn't need to worry—he was far from being upset with her. Instead he pulled her into an even tighter embrace, worried only for her future.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," she whispered, more terrified than she ever had been in her life. She wasn't sure if she was waiting for Booth to say something, but it occurred to her that there wasn't really a good response for what she'd just said. It hadn't been very clear. With a hiccup, she elaborated, still crying: "I love the army, Booth, I don't want to leave. I don't want to go back home for this."

"Shh, Jane, it's okay," Booth whispered into her ear. "I'm not going to tell a soul, I promise. Your secret's safe with me."

She shuddered against him, signaling more tears. He was better than she ever could have imagined. "I wish …I wish so badly that I was in love with you. You're as good a guy as there ever was, and I admit—sometimes I wondered if I could just …be with you, and have everything be all right. I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with you, Booth, but it could only ever platonic. You deserve much better than that."

Booth pulled away again, far enough to look into Jane's eyes. "We both do," he said. "You've got guts, Jane, real guts. You've got bigger balls than anyone else in the platoon." That got a chuckle out of her. "Because you know, you're right. The easy thing would've been to just say yes to me, and maybe we—or I—would've been happy for a while. But if this is who you really are, it would've killed us both. You just saved us a lot of future heartache."

Jane nodded, but still looked tortured. Booth would admit to still feeling depressed about it later on, because he had had such high hopes for them, but he got over it in time. She was gay, and that was all there was to it. But heartache remained a very real, very constant part of Jane's life for several months, as she told no one else her secret…

It was 4:00 a.m. and Jane was still wide awake. At Maura's insistence, the entire Rizzoli family had stayed over once again—Frankie and Tommy slept on the floor of the guest house while their mother took the bed, and Jane tried the couch in the living room again. The couch was comfortable, so it wasn't because of a lackluster sleeping arrangement that Jane was having trouble sleeping.

It'd been so great to finally have Booth meet her mother and her best friend, but it had brought up a lot of memories, too, and not all of them good ones. With a sigh, Jane rolled off the couch and slouched towards the kitchen. If she wasn't going to get any sleep, she might as well get some work done and stop this depressing reminiscing. A tall pile of dirty dishes was left by the sink, and turning on the faucet so that only a small trickle of water came out, Jane began cleaning as quietly as possible.

She had just finished her third plate when she heard someone say her name, startling her enough to almost drop it. Jane whirled around to see Maura standing on the other side of the kitchen island, wearing a set of gold-colored silk pajamas and looking somber.

"Geez, Maura, you almost gave me a heart attack," Jane said.

Maura apologized and walked around the island to stand next to her friend. "Why are you doing the dishes in the middle of the night?"

"Couldn't sleep," Jane muttered.

"Was it the couch? I really wish you'd have taken me up on my offer to share the bed; it'd be much more comfortable, I'm sure."

Jane just shook her head, continuing to wash dishes. "The couch's fine. It's other stuff." She glanced at Maura, and saw the doctor giving her a discerning look. This was one of those times she knew Maura would give anything to be able to read the most basic human expressions, as she could tell something was wrong but didn't know what exactly or if she should even ask. Jane decided to give her hand: "I suppose you're curious about what it is."

"Well," Maura sighed, picking up a dish towel and drying the first plate Jane had washed. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but that doesn't mean you have to tell me."

"I'm not even sure if I know exactly what it is," Jane admitted. "This has never really happened to me before. Even if I knew there was some psycho out to get me, I could still always sleep, but… tonight I just haven't been able to at all."

"You never pulled an all-nighter in school?" Maura asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

Jane snorted a laugh. "Nope. Sleep was way more important than decent grades, or even a good party." They continued their chore in silence for a few more moments, and the smile slowly left Jane's face. "Booth was the first person I ever told. He was the first person I came out to."

Maura looked over at her, but as Jane was still determinedly scrubbing a dinner plate, she went on with her drying. "Is that why you're so close?"

"It's probably part of it, yeah. I didn't even plan on telling him, I just heard myself saying it one night. Well, not just any night; it was this night when he told me how he felt about me. And I don't know what happened, it just like, came spilling out."

"That shows a lot of trust," Maura commented. "I'm sure he really appreciated your being so honest."

Jane chuckled again. "He did. I couldn't believe he was so nice about it, and he kept it a secret, like he promised."

Another long pause stretched between them. Maura knew the next part of the story, because Jane had confided most of it to her before.

She got Katy Miller on her own. For weeks Jane had sworn that Katy looked at her differently from the other women, maybe like she was interested. There was a mutual respect there, and even after telling Booth her secret, Jane had worked harder and harder to repress the physical attraction she knew she was developing for Katy. Her deep blue eyes were like two small works of art, never less beautiful when strands of lightly curled auburn hair fell into them. Every time Jane looked her way, Katy couldn't help but grin, her smile stretched by deep-set dimples. There was undeniably some sort of charge that passed between them each time they interacted, and Jane was falling so deliriously in love with this girl that she was totally oblivious to the fact that anyone else had noticed. Plenty of people in their unit had picked up on something, but weren't about to ask. Jane was too popular for her own good, and besides that, it'd be a huge loss to the army itself if they ever lost Rizzoli.

Katy and Jane finally had their chance one night when the two other women in their platoon were on active guard duty. They had the tent to themselves and were lying next to each other on their backs, staring up at the dirty canvas ceiling. Jane had just finished a story about a fort she'd built with her friends in sixth grade out in the woods, when Katy sat up.

"Will you promise not to say anything?" she whispered into the darkness.

"About what?" Jane asked, her heart hammering against her chest. Her eyes widened as Katy shifted on top of her. "What're you doing?" she asked, her voice amounting to little more than a terrified squeak.

"You tell me," Katy said back, her breath tickling Jane's cheek. "Tell me, Jane. Tell me what you want."

She couldn't think of a verbal response; she just grabbed Katy's head and pulled her down into a hungry kiss. Katy responded at once, her tongue sweeping into Jane's mouth, and Jane was sure her brain had just short-circuited. It couldn't be at all compared to kissing a guy; it was apples and oranges. No—apples and something not edible. The joke made her smile to herself, and Katy grinned against her lips, still tasting her.

"What's so funny?" she asked in a whisper, moving her lips to Jane's cheek, then her ear.

Again, Jane responded with actions, not words. Besides, she'd already forgotten what had made her laugh. She rolled them over, pinning Katy underneath her, weaving their fingers together. But Katy was impatient; she threw her arms up around Jane's neck, pulling her closer, digging her nails into Jane's shoulders. They were careful to keep things as quiet as possible, aware of the potential danger of what they were doing, but in the moment, believing that any retribution would be worth this ecstasy. Whenever Jane could feel a moan threatening to rumble out of Katy's throat, she would stifle the sound with a hard kiss.

"God, Jane, you're so hot," Katy said in a feverish whisper.

There were of course many other things Katy admired about her, but nothing else had come to her at that moment. She was overwhelmed by the attention Jane was giving her—it was an exhilaration she could compare only with the rush that came with the excitement of war…

As the weeks went by, they were able to share a few more tortuously good make-out sessions before it happened.

Cadet Eric Michaels was widely reported to have been a homosexual, but no one had ever been able to get proof. He was said to have been abused because of it several times, and it had finally reached the point where he couldn't take it anymore. His death was ruled a suicide, with a note outing himself found by his hand. He had been in the same platoon as one of Booth's friends, and when Jane heard about it, she felt sick. Suddenly she didn't want to be a part of this patriotic organization anymore. Suddenly she hated the army. It wasn't as though she had never heard of things like this happening, or that she didn't know what she'd gotten herself into—geez, for the last few months she had been carrying on a lesbian affair without anyone noticing. No one could notice, she had told herself, because otherwise it would mean going home.

Something about Eric's suicide pushed Jane over the edge. Two days after hearing the news, and without consulting Katy, Jane came out to her commanding officer. She would never forget the way he sat there, staring at her as if she'd just announced a desire to go establish a military post on Jupiter. He was squirming, trying to find a way out of having to let her go, but she did not meet his gaze and stared resolutely at the wall behind him, hands folded behind her back.

"You're sure, Rizzoli?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, sir."

"There's…there aren't any men in this platoon who could deny what you've just told me?"

What did he think, she was making a joke? That someone had dared her to do this? "No, sir. What I've told you is the truth, and anyone who denies it is a liar."

"And you know what this means."

"Yes, sir."

She had hoped, like a fool, that this could have been like going to confession. It would be between her and this officer, and her parents would never find out. She hadn't ever planned on going this far, but she hadn't ever planned on meeting Katy, and that had changed everything…

"Something you said last night really bothered me," Jane said all of a sudden.

Maura's hand stilled on the serving tray she had been drying. "What?"

Jane continued to scrub, aware that Maura was staring at her and determined not to return the gaze. "It didn't at the time, but then I thought about it more, and it… it hurt."

"Jane—?"

"You hinted that the only reason I'd asked Angela to do facial reconstruction was because she'd made a pass at me. You assumed that because she was pretty and she was into me, that I'd make any excuse to get her involved and get in her pants."

Maura put down the dish and grabbed Jane's shoulder. The detective didn't pull away, but she still wouldn't look at her friend. "Jane—no, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to say that at all—"

"That's who I used to be, Maura," Jane said, turning to look at her. "I used to be like that, I would've done that. After I was discharged, I—I couldn't take it. My mom was afraid of me, Booth was on the other side of the world, and Katy was furious with me. I felt like I had no one, no one at all. Not even my brothers could understand, and all my old friends just seemed so phony."

"Jane, it's not uncommon for soldiers to return from combat feeling—"

"You know that's not all I mean, Maura," Jane grumbled, and the expression on the doctor's face told Jane she did know this was true. "I did what any young, previously sexually frustrated person would do. I went to bars and picked up women and—it was just this never-ending series of one-night stands, because I hated Katy and I hated myself and I hated the stupid army. I felt like I had to make good on what they'd kicked me out for, so I just went around like an idiot. It'd been just over a year when Booth finally wrote to me saying I was sounding less and less like my old self—'cause I'd been writing him, you know—and he kept telling me that Katy was asking about me all the time but I knew that wasn't true, because she hadn't ever written to me herself. Maura, Booth got me to grow up. I knew he'd never treat women the way I had, so I stopped because I respected him so much. I don't hook up anymore, not even close. I don't go all the way with someone unless I think it's something that's going to really go somewhere, which means yeah, goddammit, I haven't gotten laid in a really long time! So when you go around assuming I'd give more weight to what someone had to say just because she's attractive and came onto me, it hurts. It hurts that you don't know me well enough to know I would never do that."

Somewhere in the middle of that speech she had started crying, but she didn't care. Her voice had remained steady as the tears slid down her cheeks, some of them leaving a salty trail in her mouth, but she didn't pay them any mind. Not until now, when an ominous silence had filled the kitchen, and Maura was giving her a look full of concern and shame and sadness. She looked like she was about to say something, but Jane beat her to it.

"I'm sorry," Jane muttered, putting down the glass she'd been washing and wiping away tears with the back of her arm. She rested against the sink and folded her arms, screwing her eyes shut. "I don't know what the hell just got into me. I'm so exhausted, I—I don't know what I'm saying."

She opened her eyes only when Maura gently touched her arm. "Don't apologize, Jane," she said in a voice thick with emotion. I only wish I could tell you I hadn't meant what I'd said, but I still don't know why I said it. "My words were stupid and unthinking, and I can understand why you may have taken them the wrong way, even if you seemed all right at the time."

"I was, I am," Jane said. "I dunno, it's just Booth being here, it's been so weird. Really great, but weird. It's brought up all these emotions I wasn't expecting." I didn't think he'd ever meet you, at least not so soon after I told him I'm in love with you.

Maura grazed her fingers against Jane's arm. "Please," she whispered. "Come to my bed, you might be able to sleep."

"I don't want you to have to take the couch."

"I won't. It's a large bed, I'll stay with you."

Too tired to argue, Jane mumbled "all right," and allowed Maura to drag her into the bedroom. With a heavy sigh she collapsed onto the bed and marveled at how soft the pillow was, and how warm the comforter felt. Maura had stepped into the bathroom for only a minute or two, but when she came out, it was to see that Jane was already in a deep sleep.

It occurred to her that in their few sporadic sleepovers, she had always been the one to doze off first. She'd never seen what Jane looked like when she was sleeping—free from care, free from the world. Her brow was smooth, not creased from worry or stress. Her breathing was steady, her lips parted slightly. On the whole, she seemed uncharacteristically calm …at the outset, anyway.

At some point later, Jane had woken up from a horrible nightmare. They were the type she only ever had after thinking extensively about her military past—she was back in a war zone, weaponless, alone. This time Katy had been in the dream, antagonizing her with sharp jeers that hurt more than bullets. Yet when an unseen enemy tossed a live grenade at them, Jane still threw herself on top of it to absorb the blast, yelling at Katy to run—but Katy was holding on to her, telling her to stop, to wake up—

Maura was rubbing Jane's arm, looking concerned. "Jane, it's okay."

"What happened?" Jane asked dumbly.

"You were…agitated."

The detective sat up. "Dammit, Maura, you must think I'm such a spaz," Jane groaned into her hands once she realized where she was, and that the war zone had been a dream. Before Maura could launch into a full description of what exactly spastic behavior consisted of, Jane muttered, "Bad dream." She was still trembling, fighting down the taste of bile that was creeping up her throat. "It felt so freaking real."

"You're okay, Jane, you're with me," Maura said.

Jane looked at her, feeling so out of it and so confused because it finally registered with her that she was in Maura's bed. "Am I still dreaming?" she asked in a cracked whisper.

"No," Maura said back, slightly confused. "No, you're awake, which needs to change. Go back to sleep."

"I can't," Jane mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Yes, you can," Maura said firmly. "You've been getting barely enough sleep these last couple of days, and it's going to start affecting your ability to work. If you go back to sleep now, you'll be able to get in a couple more hours." Maura pushed Jane's arm, guiding her to lie down again. Jane allowed it, lying on her back as Maura rested on her side. "You're not alone anymore, Jane."

Jane shut her eyes. "I know."

She was too tired to realize she had fallen back asleep with Maura's arm laid protectively near her waist. It stayed there for the next couple of hours, until Jane woke up and shifted away, sitting up. This caused Maura to stir as well, and as she stretched, Jane said, "Good morning, doctor."

Maura offered her a sleepy smile in return. "Good morning, Jane."

"Sorry for freaking out last night," Jane chuckled, trying her best to pretend that her behavior had been amusing and not embarrassing. "I guess I was worrying over nothing, right?"

"I can understand why you felt the way you did," Maura assured her. "You have nothing to feel uncomfortable about, Jane. I'm just glad you were finally able to get to sleep after such an… exhausting evening."

Jane snorted. "Yeah. Thanks for letting me…" Talk? Vent? Yell at you?

"My pleasure. You can come sleep with me any time."

Barely suppressing a chuckle, Jane said, "Right, thanks." From anyone else in the world, she would have expected that to mean "let's have sex any time," but she knew that coming from Dr. Literal, it only meant that in the future she should feel free to share the bed instead of taking the couch. Still, the thought of how close they had been last night—physically and emotionally—sent a chill down Jane's spine that she had to fight to ignore as she patted Maura's knee and stood up. "I'm gonna grab something to eat. Want anything?"

"Wait—let me get dressed, and I'll come with you."

"Okay." Jane walked open to the door, which she realized was partially open, and nudged it further open with her foot. By habit she closed it behind her, only to realize that Tommy was standing a few feet away with his mouth hanging open. "Tommy!" she hissed. "What're you doing in here?"

"Getting coffee," he answered. He waved his hand at Maura's closed bedroom door. "What the hell was that?"

"Was what?"

"Did you spend the night in there?"

"Yes! …oh." Jane did a quick internal replay of her conversation with Maura and it dawned on her how easy it could have been to misconstrue. "Look, Tommy—"

"You said you weren't into her!"

"Would you lower your voice? And—"

"No! Jane, that's really not cool!"

She couldn't believe this. He was acting like a twelve-year-old, and one she wanted to hasten to remind had no claim on Maura Isles. Who was he to be upset with her over this? He had no right. So to hell with him and what he was going to make of this: "Yeah, Tommy, I slept with Maura last night. Tell anyone, and I swear to God I'll kill you, though."

"Why?"

"We don't want to spring it on people yet." Just then, Maura emerged from her room, dressed in a silver pencil skirt and ruffled mustard top. She was about to greet Tommy when Jane turned and gave her an awkward hug. "Maura! Honey, you're here, that's great! I hope you don't mind I told Tommy that you invited me to spend the night with you."

Maura shrugged. "Not if you don't."

Tommy just stared at them both before shaking his head and walking outside.

"What was that about?" Maura asked, puzzled.

"Ah, nothin'," Jane chuckled. "I just rubbed his self-righteousness the wrong way." He'll figure it out soon enough, anyway. Just a laugh. "Let's get going—I told Booth we'd meet him at H.Q. at 8:00, and we need to stop by my apartment so I can change into something I haven't slept in."

Once they were both dressed and fed, they arrived at headquarters a few minutes before Booth and Brennan. Booth was not too pleased to notice that Brennan was turning quite a few heads, but kept his annoyance to a minimum by sending menacing glares at those who dared make eye contact with him. Once they met up with Jane, she directed Brennan down to the morgue to help Maura with the dislocated finger they'd found at the crime scene. As she left with Booth, Jane asked Frost if he'd show Brennan where to go.

"So did you ever manage to get your doctor in bed last night?" Jane teased Booth as they got into her squad car.

"Ha. No. We've got twin beds."

"Hm, hm. Guess I win."

"What? Did you…?"

"Yup. I slept with Maura last night."

Booth's face fell into an open-mouthed grin. "Wow! Way to go, Rizzoli!"

Pulling onto the street, Jane said, "Okay, I should elaborate. We just slept. But it was weird, like, I… I usually take the couch when I spend the night over there, but I was having trouble sleeping, and Maura came out of her bedroom and kind of insisted that I share her bed."

"Wow. You think maybe she wanted something to happen?"

"No, I mean she was just being Maura. But… well, actually, I… no. It's all just wishful thinking, Booth, I mean she's straight."

"But…?"

Jane spared him a pained smile. "I'm grasping at straws, really. There was something in her voice, and the way she was touching me that made me think for a second that …I dunno. I was tired, so I'm sure it was all in my head."

Booth eyed her warily. "Sure, Jane."

After a few moments of silence, Jane had to laugh. "Look at us, Booth! You were hung up on me and I turned out to be gay, and now I'm hung up on this woman who's straight. Aren't we a pair."

"Yeah, but I got over you pretty quick," Booth said casually.

"Oh, come on. You moped for months. Years!"

"A decade!"

"Okay, that's just sad."

It was Booth's turn to laugh. "Look, have you dated anyone recently? I mean sometimes the best way to get over someone, even if it's just a—I dunno, a crush—is to get out in the field again, you know?"

Jane shrugged. "There hasn't been anyone in a while. You know how it is, Booth, women freak out about the job. It's too much."

"Yeah, I know," Booth muttered. "That's what's so great about Bones. She knows the risks, and she'd be fine with them if she'd just… give it a chance. Although I guess the same goes for you and Maura…"

"Right," Jane said, pulling into Eden Carlisle's driveway. "Okay, well before we talk more about my gay dating life, let's go speak with our Mormon suspect."

"Wait, wait," Booth said with a grin before Jane got out. "You know who else knows the risks of dating someone in our line of work?"

Jane stared at him, then grinned. "That girl Angela?"

"Right on, Rizzoli. One phone call and she'd take a sick day to come down here in a heartbeat."

"No, come on, Booth! Be professional." They got out of the car in unison, and walking up the long driveway to the very palatial estate, Jane said, "Fine. Let's talk after we've spoken with Ms. Carlisle."