Author's note: thank you for all the reviews!

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Dry Fig

"Nope. I tell you there's something wrong with her schedule. How could she be at her place – in Cambridge – by 2pm and barely thirty minutes later on the other side of town? With the traffic and all... ? I don't buy it."

"Maybe but 'I don't buy it' isn't enough of a reason to arrest, Jane."

The brunette rolled her eyes and – frustrated – leaned her chin against the palm of her hand as she shook her head at the laptop. On the other side of the screen, Frost shrugged. He was as lost as she was and this case was driving them crazy. Jane was about to ask her colleague about the shoe print found on the crime scene when an alert made her jump, putting a short break to their conversation.

"What is that?"

At least this time, she had found the perfect angle for her computer to make sure that Frost would be able to see her no matter her wanders through the kitchen. She turned around and walked to the sink to fill a tea kettle.

"It's time for Maura's raspberry leaf tea."

"How is she doing?"

Jane shrugged – turned around to look at her colleague – and bit her lower lip. "Somehow a tad better than when I took her to the hospital but she stills looks like E.T. You know... When he's sick. Like a dry fig."

The young man laughed then shook his head in disbelief. "I'm not sure Dr. Isles would like this kind of comparison."

Preparing meticulously the tea, Jane raised a convinced eyebrow and pouted. "Oh, she'd kill me. Be sure of that. But luckily, she's upstairs in bed and can't hear me." She made a pause – looked around at the mess on the kitchen counter – and sighed. "Alright, I have to go now. She needs her tea and there's also the dinner to prepare. Call me if you have anything new."

Frost nodded and within a second, Jane found herself alone in the immensity of the room where she was now spending most of her days. If the medical staff had managed to rehydrate Maura, it hadn't solved her morning sickness issues. In spite of the medication and all the natural remedies they were trying.

The scientist was stuck in bed – on an unlimited sick leave - and before the urgency of the situation, Jane had decided to take a couple of weeks off.

Or so.

She worked from home – on the cases – and left the house as soon as her team needed to go outside. But all the rest was controlled from here; the counter of the kitchen that had simply disappeared under a thousand papers and pictures.

"Here's your groceries: camomile oil, gingerale, brown rice..."

Saucepan in hand, Jane nodded at her mother as the matriarch came in and put the bags on the counter by the sink.

"Thanks, ma'. Did they have these peppermint herbs thing? We're almost running out of them and Maura loves it in her soup. She says it tastes better that way. The bread's in the oven and her tea's almost done. I'll start the soup now to make sure she has something to eat by 7.30pm... By the way, have you..."

But her question remained trapped somewhere between her throat and her lips as she noticed her mother smiling dumbly at her, a couple of tomatoes in hand.

"What?"

Fair question. Yet a way too suspicious tone.

Angela shrugged and resumed the unpacking of the groceries. "You are a good wife, Jane. I'm proud of you. Maura is sick and you are here for her. You even adapted your schedule and all to make sure she wouldn't be alone."

"I love her." The brunette's reply hit the air with an implacable logic to the point Jane didn't even blush nor feel embarrassed to talk about her feelings.

"But still, many wouldn't do all the things you're doing."

The detective shrugged and grabbed a potato to peel it. "Then they wouldn't deserve her." Not that she would let anyone approach Maura one way or another. "Ma'..." Don't do that. You're going to screw it all, Riz'. Don't ask it.

"Yes?"

Divided, Jane looked up – locked her eyes with her mother's – and ran her tongue over her lips. She was in full doubt. Just as she had been since the day she had learned about it. And screw it! "Why don't you talk to anyone about Maura's pregnancy? Why haven't you hosted some sort of baby shower already and... All these things? You're always annoying us with... You know, the whole grandchild thing... So why do you stay quiet now that you know we're going to have a baby?"

Yes. Her mother's attitude bothered her. At first, she had assumed that it was because Angela was preparing a party but then the days had passed by and nothing had come up. Not even a couple of rumor at the BPD. Nothing. As if – for once – the matriarch wasn't eager to share a secret with somebody.

"Maura told me that you didn't want to reveal anything before the second trimester so I have decided to respect your decision."

Jane chuckled but frowned as she realized that her mother was being honest. Such behavior was completely out of character.

"It won't be a surprise anymore, now. Everyone has guessed why Maura had to take a sick leave... I had to tell Cavanaugh about it. We wanted to keep a low profile but we failed."

"What? Don't say that!"Angela abandoned the tomatoes on the counter top and grabbed her daughter for a sincere hug. With her usual maternal care, she put a strand of hair behind Jane's ear and caressed her cheek lovingly. "You two have been handling it all very well and... Yes, I might not be jumping and bragging all around about it but... You have no idea... How happy I am at the prospect of welcoming this baby in our family." Her smile was sincere. "Now bring Maura her tea. The poor girl needs it."

Jane nodded and soon found herself on the first floor pushing the door of their bedroom with her foot as she held a tray.

"Hey..."

Maura opened her eyes – turned her head around – and smiled quietly. She still looked too pale to Jane's taste but at least now she could sit up in bed without feeling nauseous. It was still a progress. A big one.

"I brought your tea. Raspberry leaves, today... And tomorrow, peppermint. Wait, let me help you." Jane put the tray down on her side of the bed to help Maura sit up. She arranged all the pillows in her back then held out the mug to her.

"It smells nice..."

Jane nodded. "It's the soup. We haven't hit winter yet but I swear it's the weather we're having now. It hasn't stopped raining, today."

The honey blonde nodded and cast a glance at the curtains before sighing loudly. "I still look like the perfect person they could cast for The Exorcist, don't I?"

Jane rolled her eyes and made a face. "Gosh I thought you had taken it so bad the last time I said it... I was only joking, Maur'. You look... You look stunning for... For a ghost."

Snap on Jane's shoulder. The brunette winced in pain. "Hey!"

"I am still nauseous so if I were you I would watch out what I say if I don't want to find myself with the contents of my stomach on this shirt. Capisce?"

Jane's eyes widened in horror. "Are you telling me that you'd throw up on me just because I'd have said you look like E.T.?"

Gasp. Mug in hand, Maura shook her head. She looked horrified. "E.T. looks like a fig, a dry fig. I do not look like a fig!"

"Oh yes, you do." Just as her mother had done a few minutes before on her, Jane pushed a strand of her wife's hair behind her ear then caressed her cheek lovingly. "But you are mine. My dry fig. So I'll take it."

Maura let a timid laugh pass her lips - shrugged away the comment - but stopped immediately before swallowing hard. "Don't take it bad, Jane, but if we could avoid the fig talk... It makes me feel nauseous again."

Hands up in the air, Jane nodded and apologized in silence before accepting the embrace her wife took her in.

Cuddling time. She closed her eyes and let the smell of the soup go to her head bewitchingly while Maura's body heat rocked her to sleep. Hmm. Perhaps this morning sickness thing wasn't so bad, in the end.

"Jane?"

"Yeah?"

Silence. Hesitation. "I am hungry."

The Italian's grin echoed Maura as she opened her dark eyes and locked them with her partner's hazel ones. "I like it when you sound healthy."