Jane and Maura were running the Boston marathon. Jane was running as hard as she could, but Angela passed them. Then Tommy passed them, too. Along the sidelines, Casey pointed and laughed. Maura was trying to get her to go faster, but when she looked down she saw that she was running through sticky mud. Eventually Maura gave up and sprinted ahead. Jane looked behind her and saw her father gaining.

Jane tried not to move too much when she woke. She just lay there wondering if she would ever sleep soundly again. She couldn't blame the dreams entirely on the baby; she'd had her share of nightmares before. But these were different. They were getting weirder. And while not overtly nightmarish—Hoyt was conspicuously missing—they were often troubling. The part that bothered her about this one was Maura. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was her subconscious telling her she had somehow let Maura down.

Jane propped her head up to see Maura sleeping next to her. She looked so peaceful, so content. She was on her back, her hands resting on her stomach and her hair splayed out on the pillow. Her head was tilted a little bit toward Jane, as if she were listening for something. Jane watched her chest rise and fall with each breath. She wanted to reach out, cover one of Maura's hands with her own, to see if that would make her unease melt away.

But the sunlight was just beginning to peek through the windows and Jane knew that if she woke Maura now, neither of them would be able to get back to sleep before the alarm rang. Instead of depriving her friend of some much-needed rest, Jane opted to get up and try to forget the dream. It was just a dream anyway.

As Jane slowly and carefully rose, Jo lifted her head, her tags tinkling. The little dog opted to stay put, apparently comfortable right where she was, nestled against Maura's calf. Jane felt a twinge of jealousy, but kept moving. Maura stirred at the noise and reached one arm out to where Jane had been, her palm up, fingers curled as if waiting for Jane to hand her something. Or, Jane thought, waiting for someone to pin her down with a scalpel.

Jane's knees weakened and she leaned against the wall a moment. Her fingers traced the middle of Maura's palm, where a scar would be, confirming that none was there. Then her eyes moved to Maura's neck and the thin line Jane had failed to intercept. She felt the urge to kiss it, to try to make it disappear, along with all the memories of that day, to somehow make it better, to make it like it had never happened. Jane's eyes closed tightly and when she took a deep breath, Maura's fingers closed over hers, bringing her back to reality.

"Jane," Maura murmured, eyes still closed.

"It's ok, Maur, go back to sleep." Jane extracted her hand and replaced it with a pillow. She watched Maura turn on her side to hug it. Maura's breath evened out again and Jane left, hoping to avoid waking her again.

She lingered in the hallway, considered taking a few jabs at her punching bag, but ended up in the baby's room instead. They had cleaned it out and painted the previous weekend. It was easy to agree on decor: Maura found an artsy photograph of a baby elephant that they pulled colors from. They painted the walls a pale yellow like the dry grass, and used a warm gray for the accents, to pick up the elephant's wrinkly skin. Then they had other photos of baby elephants with adult females to put up around the room.

Jane smiled, remembering how Maura had stressed that they be consistent in using photos of only African elephants, not Asian elephants, so as not to confuse Echo. There were striking differences in morphology, Maura had explained. For example, in African elephants, both males and females have tusks. Jane tried to remember the other differences and identify them in the photographs, as if she were studying for an exam. African elephants had bigger ears. They were overall bigger. Asian elephants had two big humps on the tops of their heads, while African elephants' heads were more rounded. And African elephants had two 'fingers' at the end of their trunks, while Asian elephants only had one. Dumbo and Echo were African elephants.

The rest of Maura's house was decidedly grown-up. She had decorative vases, expensive art, and everything was in its place. Like Maura herself, her house was always well put-together. And yet it was anything but sterile. It was warm and inviting, comfortable. Homey. Perfect. This room fit in with the rest of the house. It was elegant and cozy at the same time. Echo would be happy here.

The baby furniture had been delivered a couple of days earlier, but because of work they hadn't had time to assemble it yet. Jane figured this was as good a time as any to get started, so she pulled out the biggest box and began.

Ten minutes and two trips to the 'odds and ends' closet later, Jane had all the pieces spread out on the floor, and her toolbox ready to go. At the top of the instructions, it said in capital letters, "DO NOT USE POWER TOOLS." Jane scoffed. She had a cordless DeWalt that would be perfect for this. And the battery was fully charged. This beauty was going to get drilled. Jane snickered. That's what she said.

"Step one. Set up four platform panels." Jane identified and arranged the pieces. "Step two. Assemble the platform. Boy, you guys don't beat around the bush, do ya?" Jane picked out the indicated wood dowels (H7), cam bolts (H8), and cam locks (H9) from her pile of hardware, and tinkered until she had them all in the right places, and the cam locks tightened. "So far so good.

"Next, step three, attach back panels to side panels." The picture showed the pieces she needed. "I get that you're going for brevity, here, but a little more description never killed anybody." Jane looked at her belly as if it were an audience. "And I should know, right?" This assembly called for 2-1/4" allen head bolts (H3) and lock washers (H12), but she couldn't tell H3 from H4, 1-3/4" allen head bolts, right away. "Why can't they just all use the same size?" Jane grumbled, but got them all sorted and the side panels attached.

"Step four. Attach the left and right brackets... to spring frame... using H11, H6, H13, and H14. Shit." The words became a jumble. Maybe it was lack of coffee at an early hour, maybe it was baby brain, maybe it was just poorly worded instructions, but whatever it was, it was too much. Jane was frustrated. She flipped through the rest of the pages. There were ten steps; she hadn't even gotten through a third of them. She felt her breaths getting rapid and shallow, a hallmark (she had learned over the past few months) of an impending crying fit. To top it off, Jane got mad at herself for getting upset over a stupid piece of paper. The tears began.

She didn't know how long she had been there, crying and swearing, heels of her hands at her forehead, before she heard Maura's voice from the doorway. "Jane?"

"Fuck." Jane wiped her eyes and sniffed to clear her nose. Jane knew it was a hormonal thing, these crying bouts she'd been having, but it was still embarrassing. She usually managed to keep them private. She hated the idea of Maura having to comfort her any more than she already did. The last thing Jane wanted to be was a sloppy mess for Maura to put back together. But in this case, there was no hiding what was going on. The best she could do was try to recover herself and get on with her day. She swallowed and tried to smile. "Hey, Maur."

Maura's head tilted as she surveyed the scene: Jane sat cross-legged, a crying mess, in the middle of the room, surrounded by pieces of crib and piles of hardware. And she had been crying over baby furniture. It was at least a little bit comical, and Maura cracked a sympathetic smile. "What's going on?"

"I can't." The waterworks began again, and Jane's hands went flying. "I can't put this fucking thing together!" Maura couldn't help but burst out laughing. At least she had the compassion to try to cover it with her hand. "Great. And now you're laughing at me. Thanks. Our kid is going to have to sleep on the floor, and you're laughing."

Maura calmly cleared a place on the floor for herself. She sat, her legs out wide, straddling Jane behind and to the side, and wrapped her arms around Jane's shoulders. She kissed Jane's shoulder, looked up sweetly, and said, "Sorry for laughing."

Jane calmed a little, and wiped her eyes. "I don't think I'm cut out for this, Maur."

"It's ok."

Jane did a double-take. "No it's not. You bought this beautiful furniture set and the least I could do is put it together so she..." Jane's voice trailed off as Maura planted more kisses on her shoulder, her back, wherever her lips would reach.

"It's ok," she murmured, her breath warm on Jane's skin.

"It's ok?"

Maura nodded and batted her eyelashes. "We have at least four more months before she's born."

"But-"

"And even then, she can sleep with us for as long as she needs to."

"Really?"

"The latest articles suggest that we'll both be better-rested if she sleeps with us while she's nursing more frequently, for at least six months after birth."

"So we really have ten months."

Maura nodded again and somehow managed to keep a straight face when she said, "Do you think if we were to work together, we could get it done in that time?"

Jane leveled her eyes. Maura really was getting better at sarcasm. "I don't know, Maura, there's like a million pieces here. It might take a full year."

Maura smiled and kissed her shoulder once more. "Good. Then we can come back to it later." Then she let go and stood, holding a hand out to help Jane get up. "It's time for breakfast."

Jane and Maura had spent the better part of their day working together to assemble the furniture, but they got it all done. The only notable event was when Maura stole the battery to Jane's power drill to keep her from ignoring the capitalized warning. Maura had hidden the battery behind her back, just out of Jane's reach, and a minor amount of tickling was in order. Working together on this project was definitely preferable to doing it solo.

Still, it was an exhausting activity for their day off, and nothing sounded better than curling up for a long sleep. Unfortunately, even after lying in bed for a couple of hours, Jane could not get comfortable. She was starting to resent the baby for the lack of sleep. Her back ached, her feet were swollen, and her belly no longer fit inside the curve of Maura's back. Jane tugged at Maura's hip, trying to get her to move closer, but it just wasn't physically possible.

"Jane." Maura was groggy and her voice gravelly. Jane's shifting was keeping her up, too. She scooted over, then rolled onto her back so she could make eye contact through heavy lids. "Why don't you try your other side?"

"What?" Jane rolled onto her back and hefted herself up on elbows.

"Turn over." Maura's hand flailed in a weak imitation of a dog command. "Snuggle left."

"But—"

"Come on. I'll come with you." Maura pushed Jane's shoulder, trying to tip her to the left.

Jane yielded a little, but fatigue had sapped Maura's strength; Jane remained on her back. "But I'm the big spoon."

"What?" Maura squinted, as if being able to see more clearly would help her understand.

"I'm the big spoon."

Maura yawned. "Why?"

"Because. I'm the guy."

Maura sat up and rubbed her eyes. Vision cleared, her eyes raked over Jane's swollen breasts and large belly, then rested a hand on the baby for emphasis. "Really," she intoned sardonically. "You're a guy."

"You know what I mean, Maura. Between the two of us, I'm the guy. I'm the one who likes sports and you're the one who likes shopping. I'm rude and sarcastic, you're sweet and pretty. I protect you. And I'm taller. I'm the guy."

Maura blinked a few times. "Gender stereotypes are overly simplistic generalizations that stifle individuality. You should let me protect you sometimes." She quickly rubbed Jane's belly to try to get her to move. "Come on. Stop being obtuse and try it. You might like it."

Jane reluctantly turned over and Maura scooted up behind her, molding herself into Jane's back and pulling the sheet up over them both. Her right arm wrapped around and her fingers teased the skin next to Jane's navel.

"How's that?"

"Mmm," Jane grumbled. "It's ok, I guess." (It was more than ok, but Jane wasn't going to admit that to Maura.)

"Ok?" Maura smiled. She liked being right. "You think you'll be able to sleep?"

"I'll try."

"Ok. Goodnight, Jane."

"Goodnight." Jane closed her eyes and focused on the fingertips dancing on her skin. She began to relax, but before sleep overcame her, Maura's hand withdrew and moved to her head, smoothing the hair away from Jane's temple and tucking it behind her ear. She continued down the back of Jane's neck, gathering the hair aside, then stopped.

Jane's head was getting heavy; she could feel sleep drifting closer and closer until there was another small movement behind her. Ever so gently, Maura's lips touched down behind Jane's ear. Once, then they hovered a moment, and once more, before Maura's head rested on the pillow.

Jane waited a moment to find out if anything else would happen, but Maura was still. Slowly, so as not to startle her, Jane turned her head slightly. She wanted to see... something. She didn't know what. She just wanted to see Maura's face.

Despite Jane's efforts, she did startle Maura. "I'm sorry, I—I thought you were asleep." Maura pulled herself back and sat up, ashamed at letting herself slip.

But Jane took her hand and pulled her back in. "No, it's ok. I mean, it's ok, it's... it's ok if you want to do that." Jane blinked rapidly. "It's nice."

Maura swallowed nervously. "But. Friends don't do that. Do they?"

"No. But." Jane shrugged. "We can. If you want to."

The corners of Maura's mouth turned up in a hesitant smile that Jane mirrored. "Ok."

Jane pulled her back down to snuggle left. Maura kissed Jane's neck once more, then wrapped her arm around Jane's waist and said, "Goodnight."