Athor's note: thank you very much for all the reviews!

Chapter Nineteen: Watch Out The Floor

Glass: perfect. Cocktail: yummy. Chips: double yummy. Destination: the couch.

Uh oh. This was the most complicated part. How was she supposed to reach her seat holding the tray and walking there with her crutches? Ugh.

Maura. Perfect. The honey blonde walked into the living-room – stopped to look at her for a moment – but resumed her walk to the patio door without saying anything.

Eye roll. "Oh come on! You are still angry with me? It was not my fault, for God's sake!"

Very, very bad idea. Hands on her hips, the honey blonde turned around and squinted her eyes at her wife. "I thought you had been fatally shot, Jane! I thought you were dead!"

The Italian sighed and looked shamefully at her feet. Or better said, at her right ankle. It had swollen since the day before in spite of the treatment she had received at the hospital. "You know I'm sorry... The holdup took everyone aback, they didn't have time to call you when it happened."

She had slipped on the floor. Just that. As they had got to know about the holdup at the cafe, she had rushed downstairs to check the situation but had slipped on the floor and crashed a tad ridiculously in front of everyone while exiting the elevator.

Conclusion: a sprained ankle and the media assuming she was among the casualties when they had seen her being carried to an ambulance at the same time as other people. Needless to say that within ten minutes, her name had been circulating from one network to another, making it all the way to New York where Angela had heard the news from her aunt's house.

Major family drama. For nothing but a sprained ankle and a panicked Maura who was now angry to the point she barely talked.

"Go sit on the couch. I bring you the tray." Maura only sighed before her wife's grin and let her go settle on her seat. She walked to the kitchen – put the chips aside – and took the glass to the coffee table.

"Hey, hold on a minute! Where's the yummy food?"

"In these extra pounds you put on. You know, the ones you complain about all the time. You are worse than a child, Jane. Don't count on me to bring you junk food." Dizzy, Maura sat by her wife and grabbed an ointment abandoned on the desk in her back. "Let me check how it is going. It was really swollen, this morning."

Softer voice, not full of remorse but fragile. On the verge of breaking.

Without adding anything, Jane obliged and settled her painful ankle on the honey blonde's lap; held her breath as Maura took the tape off. She was careful – her gestures smooth – but that didn't change anything to the fact it hurt. A lot. Her tension didn't pass unnoticed.

"I am sorry if I hurt you. It isn't intentional, no matter how mad I am at you." The tape finally came to an end, revealing a purple ankle. "Oh, Jane! You must be suffering a lot."

Shrug. Yeah. Pretend you're the bad ass you're not. Now. Best timing ever. You've been stiffening and moaning for the past minute but that's fine. Go on and pretend. Impress your not so impressed wife. "You really thought I was dead?"

They hadn't talked much about it. As she had exited the x ray room, Maura had rushed in – her panic mode activated – and run through the corridors of the hospital until she had found her, miserably abandoned in a wheelchair by the elevators to follow the end of the holdup on television.

They had come back home in silence – called everyone to reassure them – then had headed to bed immediately. Emotionally exhausted.

The cold treatment – Isles specialty – had started in the morning as she had woken up and it hadn't ceased since then.

"Why yes... How would you have reacted if you had turned the television on and you had heard that I was among casualties? I... You know that I am hormonally fragile. Perhaps this pregnancy didn't help to moderate my thoughts. The silence either. It never crossed my mind that you could have forgotten your cell phone on your desk nor... Nor that everyone would be busy with the holdup. I thought about nothing but you."

The confession warmed up Jane's heart before slowly breaking it again. She had scared Maura. Unintentionally but still. She had scared her to death for nothing. While she was pregnant. She couldn't have chosen a worse timing.

"How is the baby doing?" Jane didn't insist. There was no point and she knew it. She had missed Maura's second appointment and it hurt more than a sprained ankle. A lot more.

"The fetus – it isn't a baby yet – is fine. I am fine. However I need to reach Hope, somehow."

Panic mode: activated. Again. This was turning into a habit. "Why? What's happening? You just told me you were fine so why do you need to call your biological mother? What for?"

This time, Maura didn't hide her amused smile. She let it grow on her lips until it lit up her graceful features. "I need to know if there is any case of multiple pregnancy in my family... Because with the insemination, the chances are higher. But the rest is fine. We are doing just fine."

We. She hadn't even thought about it. The pronoun had come up by itself, naturally. As it made sense. And it did, it really did.

"You mean we could have twins?" Hide your enthusiasm, Riz'. Really. Jane forced a smile. She was not really thrilled at the prospect of having two identical babies in front of her. Spooky. Besides, what if she mistook one for the other?

"There is a chance, indeed. A stronger one if it already happened to someone I am related to." Maura carefully applied the ointment as she carefully chose her words. Hope and Paddy weren't her family. She didn't consider them as such. But from a biological point of view, she did not have much of a choice.

"Promise me that if it ever happens, we will never dress them in the same way. I don't want to live with clones."

The remark made Maura laugh. Her anger – mostly nourished by fear – was slowly fading away, replaced by the sweetness that described most of their relationship. She couldn't be mad at Jane for too long. It was impossible. It hurt too much.

"I promise it. Although you will notice that this is my second compromise regarding this pregnancy."

Frown. "What was the first one?"

"I renounced to name the baby Seraphine."

Scoff. Wincing in pain as Maura taped back her ankle, Jane swallowed hard and shook her head. "This isn't a compromise but me coming to this unborn child's rescue. Seraphine... I mean... Seriously? Don't you think we can do better?"

The honey blonde seemed to hesitate, ponder the question. She put back the ointment on her desk and finally offered a shrug. A plain one. "We named a cat Coco Loco, Jane. I am not sure we are that good at naming human beings. No offense."

"Hmm. Speaking of which... Where is he? I haven't heard anything get broken for the past two hours, now. And that is suspicious."

"He is sleeping on top of the washing machine. He followed me there when I decided to fold the laundry but passed out after a little while. Now if you will excuse me, I have some plants to take care of in the patio."

Jane shook her head and pressed her legs against Maura's lap to make sure that the blonde wouldn't stand up.

"Nah. I want you to stay with me. You look tired and I want to cuddle with you." Pout. Puppy eyes. Arms in the air, pleading silently for a nod.

Eye roll. Yet within a second, Maura obliged and settled an injured Jane against her on the couch before closing her eyes. She took a deep breath, her wife's scent going to her head bewitchingly. She couldn't imagine her life without Jane. It was impossible. This was not something that she would ever reveal but when she had assumed that the Italian had passed away, Maura had immediately come to the conclusion that after the funeral, she would put an end to her own existence because it was worthless to wake up every morning without Jane. Baby in the making or not. She needed Jane, period.

Plans canceled. The detective was fine. With a sprained ankle but it wasn't a first at all.

"Jane?"

"Hmm..." Huddled up against her wife, the brunette was slowly drifting off to sleep. Maybe these few days off were not such a bad idea in the end. At least if Maura was also here.

"The hardwood floors have been waxed upstairs so watch out if you ever go there. Since it seems like you have a slight issue to remain on your two feet lately as soon as the ground becomes slippery."

And snap. Right on Maura's shoulder. "Now that was mean!"

The honey blonde's laugh filled the room. A quiet Saturday at home. Not a single phone ringing. Three policemen injured in the holdup but not fatally touched. Same for the other victims.

And Jane. Her Jane. Her clumsy Jane. Her ridiculously clumsy Jane.

The calm after the storm.

"I love you."

A peaceful smile played on the Italian's lips as Maura's words hit the air before echoing in a beautiful way – all around – and tighten a sweet embrace on Jane's heart.

"I love you too." Pause. "And you, fetus. If you hear me, please don't clone yourself. That'd scare me."