A/N Life's a sh*t ton to navigate at the moment and I wish I could just write all day! Thanks for staying with me and believing in my writing. It's so nice to know that this little fic manages to make some people smile a litte :)

Chapter 7: Moments of Truth

Maura's POV

She doesn't get pregnant the first time. It doesn't surprise you. During the two-week-wait, she was mostly her normal self although there were moments of anxiety when you saw her nervously fidget with her hair or noticed her gaze drift away during conversations with her co-workers at the department.

A couple of times, she made statements like "I don't feel any different" or "My Ma got pregnant immediately, y'know?"

After the first pregnancy test you do at home is negative, she insists on taking the other two as well. "They're not always 100% accurate", she tells you as if you really didn't know.

You decide it's better to just go along with her. It's normal that she's wanting to make sure. After the third negative test, she grimaces at you. "Well, shit happens. I'm sorry."

Your jaw almost drops and you blink at her, wide-eyed. "Jane, don't you dare apologize! It's normal to have to go through more than one cycle."

She tosses long wavy hair behind her shoulders. "Yeah, I know, but still... I was so hopeful, y'know?" She looks at you a little sheepishly which makes your heart flutter wildly in your chest. "Maybe now's the time for you to just let me vent and be overly emotional?"

"Oh, Jane." You move to cross the distance between you and pull her into a wordless embrace. She accepts your hug instantly, which you know she wouldn't allow just anyone. You love these moments of physical connection. The intimacy of it, her alluring smell – and it's not just the shampoo she's using. It is her own, unique scent. You are certain because you've seen her put shampoo into her shopping cart at random and when you asked her about it, she just shrugged and said: "I'm buying whatever's on special offer ", so she doesn't have one trademark shampoo.

After a while, you both recline to the couch. You open a bottle of beer for her with a wink. "Now that you are officially not pregnant, at least you can enjoy one of these."

She takes a large sip gratefully and puts the bottle down with a wistful sigh.

"Jane...", you start because you feel obliged to say what you are about to say. "I hope I made it clear that I am not expecting you to continue this endeavor at any given point. You can opt out anytime you want to. I know how hard it gets to deal with disappointment after disappointment. I would not ever hold any decision you make against you."

"Aww, Maur", she sighs, and you immediately suspect you've said the wrong thing but then she gently lifts your chin with her index finger so she can look you directly in the eyes. "What did I do to deserve such a wonderful friend?", she asks.

"Is that a rhetorical question?", you inquire, and she cackles. "Yes. It is."

"Okay, good", you joke, "because I would not have been able to give you a scientifically sound answer."

"Opposites do attract?", she suggests, lightly, but you only frown. "No, Jane. That would imply you aren't a wonderful friend which is most certainly untrue. You have proved your loyalty and generosity and honesty quite a number of times."

You must have said something very nice, because next thing you know she's kissing you on the cheek, which is so unlike Jane Rizzoli that your body is too stunned to even blush.

She grins when she sees the surprised look on your face. Later on, in the upstairs bathroom, when you remove your make-up for the night, you find your hand wander to your cheek more than once, softly touching the spot where she kissed you, and it's truly astonishing how your mind promptly conjures up images of her kissing you again, but maybe, this time, her lips would seek out your willingly parted mouth... or the especially sensitive area on your neck... or maybe, she'd even enclose them around a hardened nipple-

Your breathing has grown more labored, your hands have wandered down to your breasts to tease tender skin beneath the silky bra you are wearing. You force yourself to stop your movements, feeling like a perv. You know the feeling is irrational because people oftentimes engage in sexual fantasies involving real-life acquaintances but it still feels wrong to think about your best friend that way. What you have told her is true. You'd never risk your friendship that is a once-in-a-life-time thing for you in all likelihood. Her - well, Jane could probably make other friends in a heartbeat, but she seems quite content with her life as it is.

With a resolute shake of your head, you reach for your toothbrush.

R&I-R&I-R&I-R&I-R&I

You catch her red-handed when she is sneakily pouring some kind of greenish powder over her breakfast bowl.

"What kind of substance is that?", you ask, amused at not ever having seen her do anything like this before.

She turns around with big eyes staring at you. "Good grief, Maura, could you please not sneak up on me? I swear you are gonna give me a heart attack one day!"

You tilt your head. "Although there are rare cases where heart attacks are triggered by intense fear, it is highly unlikely, especially for a person with no underlying heart conditions."

"You are so literal", she states but there isn't any venom in her voice. You snatch the small item from her hand, wanting to find out more about the ominous powder she apparently doesn't want you to know about.

"Hey, that's mine!", she protests and reaches for you, but you expertly duck away and quickly examine it.

"Jane", you almost whine, "please don't tell me you believe these outrageous claims?"

It's a pregnancy powder; or at least that is what it claims to be. Judging from the ingredients, there definitely is no way this substance will truly enhance her chances of getting pregnant.

"It is completely herbal", she retorts, "and I've looked it up, it's-"

"Well, it won't harm you", you admit, "but it won't have any effect whatsoever either! I am a doctor, Jane, when you are worried about anything at all, you can come to me anytime."

She bites her lip. "I just wanted to improve our chances." Realization dawns on her face. "Wait, could this actually interfere with the medication I am currently on?" She sounds severely distressed now; raking through her hair that is still somewhat tangled from sleep. "Maura, shit, have I just fu- messed it up completely?"

Her concern would be adorable if her apprehension wasn't that visible. You nearly trip over your words. "No, honey, you didn't mess up. It's fine. Like I said, the effect would be nil, so there is nothing to be so anxious about."

Her facial muscles slightly relax although there still remains some leftover tension in her body. You can see it from the way she holds herself.

"Hey, I'm not expected at work for another two hours", you hastily suggest, "so I could give you a massage?"

It's not the first time you've massaged her; she is prone to muscle tenseness, especially all over her back, and your practiced hands are usually able to ease them somewhat. You don't know when you offered the first time, but you do remember the first time she agreed. By now, it has become a not exactly regular occurrence, but it's also nothing totally extraordinary any more.

"Uh, sure", she replies, "I think that would do me a world of good", and you smile to yourself, glad that there are tiny little things you can do for her to actually make her feel better.

R&I-R&I-R&I-R&I-R&I

"Can I come in?", you ask expectantly, standing in front of the bedroom door. Jane retreated into it a couple of minutes ago in order to change; but as always, she's reluctant to show off a less casual look.

And there it is, the groan you expected. "Maura, I can't believe you talked me into buying this dress, it doesn't even look good on me! I feel like I'll make a fool out of myself."

You are so used to her complaining at this point in your friendship that you remain unconcerned.

"Okay, Jane, open the door now and I will give you an honest assessment", you promise. She knows that you are not able to tell a lie without breaking into hives whereas her mother can call the most hideously fitting outfit she's wearing "lovely" without even batting an eyelid. Although, come to think of it now, maybe Angela truly believes that Jane looks stunning in any outfit she wears because she's her mother. On the other hand, you have to admit that so far, Jane has never looked hideous to you either. She doesn't always have the best taste in clothes, but she's beautiful no matter what.

The door opens a crack and you push your way into the bedroom. Jane does not look like a fool at all. She looks positively radiant in that calf-length, sleeveless dark-green jersey dress that somehow manages to perfectly accentuate her subtle femininity.

"Jane!", you chide her good-naturedly. "This dress looks amazing on you! How can you not see?"

She grumbles something unintelligible in response before she gives you an appreciative once-over. "You look... extremely nice", she states and you beam at the honest words of your best friend. Maybe you wouldn't exactly come to her for fashion advice but you know she's being sincere and you also know that the outfit you have chosen for yourself truly does flatter you. It's a deep-blue, triangle mesh insert dress by Victoria Beckham that you just couldn't resist. You knew its cut would look fabulous on you, and it doesn't disappoint.

"You look way too nicely dressed for my Ma's birthday party at a mediocre Italian restaurant", Jane adds, taking time to scrutinize your attire even more thoroughly. "It's not some fancy-ass dinner party, just us Rizzolis, a divorced plumber's wife and three lanky siblings!"

"I want to honor your mother's special day, Jane", you reply and reach for your handbag. "Now, are we ready to go?"

At the door, she groans once again. "Oh God, I am not wearing heels, Maura! I am already tall enough as it is, in case you haven't noticed."

You point at the pair of high heels you have chosen for her. "These will look magnificent together with your dress, Jane! What else do you want to wear? Plain old sneakers?"

She mutters something under her breath but obediently slips into the footwear you picked. All the way to the car, she loudly complains about them darn shoes being uncomfortable and that she's going to trip. It's part of your established "We're going out and have to look nice"-routine so you are very accustomed to it by now. Come to think about it, there is something quite amusing and even endearing about her predictable behavior in these situations. Affection for someone can truly alter one's perception greatly. You decide to read up on this specific phenomenon while she holds open the car door for you, a chivalrous gesture she performs like it is second nature for her. It probably is.

R&I-R&I-R&I-R&I-R&I

Dinner is nice. You know that most people consider you a snob but while you have a penchant for the finer things in life, you are open to a broad range of new experiences. As a child, you never went to Disneyland. Your parents claimed it was ridiculous and not worth paying for, and you simply accepted their disapproval. Jane talked you into visiting Disneyland for the very first time in your life a few years ago and while you didn't love it, you certainly were intrigued. You also never particularly cared for dogs, but when Jane got Joe Friday, her shaggy terrier, you instantly immersed yourself in studies published about the canis lupus familiaris and memorized a lot of deeply interesting facts about them that you willingly shared with an amused Jane who claimed that: "Well, it's enough to know how to keep it alive", which confused you a little back then but in retrospect, it was a typical Jane reply.

Angela is familiar with the restaurant owners, a huge Italian family, and several times, members of it enter the private room that has been reserved for this occasion, and greet all of you effusively, gushing over your dress and Jane's dress and being overall extremely friendly and welcoming which would have alienated you at an earlier stage of your life, but now that you've come to know the Rizzolis so well, you enjoy the warmth and genuine kindness by people who have had such a different upbringing and yet make you feel so included.

Angela is in a splendid mood; she loves having all of her kids around her. Normally, Sunday dinners at your place are a weekly ritual, but everybody has been so busy lately that it didn't work out the last few times. Angela makes all of you swear that the tradition will be re-introduced. You are genuinely looking forward to it because Sunday dinners always make your house seem so full of love and lightness and laughter.

Later on in the evening, when Tommy and Frankie have gone outside to chat with two of the restaurant owner's relatives (you have lost track of who is who), Angela leans over the table good-naturedly and smiles at you. "Maura, sweetheart, how are you doing?"

With a natural smile on your face, you reply: "I'm doing fine, Angela, thank you. This is such a wonderful place and the owners are so hearty!"

Her hand tenderly cups yours. "And how are you holding up after everything you have been through recently? You always seem so composed but just remember that my door is open anytime you want to talk."

You know Angela well enough not to consider her simply nosy and overly intrusive. While she can be quite the curious individual and likes to stay up to date, she also is an incredibly kindhearted person who cares deeply about everyone she is fond of.

"Thank you so much, Angela", you express your heartfelt gratitude. "I will definitely keep that in mind."

"Of course I know that you will always have Jane to confide in", Angela happily chats away. "And by the way, I meant to ask you, what is my daughter up to nowadays? I've seen the two of you exchange some very conspiratorial glances! What is her current little secret, huh?"

She is not trying to corner you. Your inability to tell a lie is a concept hard to grasp for most people, which also holds true for Jane's mother who regularly forgets about it. It has led to some mildly embarrassing situations in the past when she was collecting information about her daughter's personal life (her love life especially), but your cheeks have probably never flushed as violently as right this instant.

"Well", you start, making the e sound extra long to win time and throw a sideways glance to Jane who is sitting next to you but currently stares at the screen of her cellphone with a frown of concentration etched onto her face. Probably work.

Angela has noticed your wandering eyes and an ecstatic beam forms on her features. "Oh, don't tell me she has a new boyfriend?", she exclaims in a sing-song y voice.

Oh no.

Luckily, Jane has caught the last part and looks up from her phone and at her mother. "Who is having a new boyfr- Ma, stop harassing Maura!", she instantly scolds when she sees the helpless look on your face and the way you have stiffened slightly.

"I am not harassing dear Maura, Jane, I am just asking her for some more information about my only and very beloved daughter who never tells me a single thing!", Angela shoots back, all indignation.

Jane lets out a long breath. "Ma, just ask me directly, okay? Although even on your birthday, I do not encourage you to try and interrogate me, understood?" Her voice is stern but still warm, the way a loving daughter apparently talks to a mother who is caring and supportive but sometimes a tad too inquisitive.

"I would probably be the last one to learn important news, anyway", Angela replies stubbornly, a jab directed at her daughter.

"And what kind of important news would that be?"

"A new boyfriend!", Angela immediately retorts, "or a grandchild I'm having – you wouldn't tell me a word about it, Janie, the hospital would probably call me to let me know I'm a grandmother because -"

She falls silent very suddenly and you notice both Jane glaring angrily at her mother and Angela looking positively bewildered at you. "Oh Maura, honey, I am so sorry, it was so insensitive of me to mention – now that I know you can't – I am so sorry", she repeats frantically.

You don't know what to say. You have not prepared for such a situation. You have broached the subject with Jane but she only replied that for the time being, there was no need to inform anybody else about your not very traditional endeavor. For some reason, even though Jane is not pregnant yet, you feel that this could be the right moment to come clean to Angela. You meet Jane's eyes and manage to convey exactly this to her, silently.

Jane makes a noise of exasperation. "Really, Maura? Right now?"

You shrug to let her know that ultimately, it is her decision. Jane sighs deeply and turns to face her mother. "Okay, Ma, I am about to tell you what is going on in our lives right now, but promise you won't freak out, okay?"

Angela stares at her daughter wide-eyed. "Of course, Janie, why would I freak out?", she asks, astonished about the sharpness in her daughter's voice.

Jane raises an eyebrow. "Well, just listen, okay? And don't make a fuss!", she warns, "it's not that big of a deal-"

And then she tells Angela and you sit there, your head lowered, expecting Angela to blame you for dragging Jane into your mess, to turn on you and accuse you of taking advantage of Jane. That is what you expect, knowing how protective Angela gets whenever her children's well-being is at risk. What you definitely don't expect is her actual reaction. She almost squeals. "So it is true, after all? I'm becoming a grandmother?"

"No, Ma, I am having the baby for Maura", Jane repeats patiently. "Well, that's the plan anyway. We are only trying to make this happen-"

Angela lightly swats at her daughter's arm over the table. "Your poor old mother is not dumb, Jane! I do understand and guess what? This baby will be a Rizzoli, too, at least partly!" She turns to you. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, honey. But seeing as how close you and my Janie are, and that you are doing this together – well, the baby will be an Isles, mostly, but I will view it as an honorary Rizzoli member, too, if you do not mind."

You do not mind at all. Tears well up in your eyes. "I'm sorry", you sob and immediately, you hear Angela address Jane: "Have I said something wrong again, love?", and Jane's reply comes instantaneously. "No, Ma. You've said all the right things. She's crying happy tears."

"Well, she's a honorary Rizzoli as well, of course!", Angela exclaims with some emphasis, and you cry even harder at this, and it does not even feel awkward anymore because these two women sitting at the table with you are indeed family, your family, and you will never cease to be amazed by their wonderful, wonderful presence in your life.