That evening, Maura was still a wreck.

After Jane had left the morgue, Maura pinned a note about having a conference call on her office door and drew all the blinds. She sat in her chair, head in hands, and spent two hours trying to make sense of what was happening. There was one very obvious reason for the physiological reaction that Maura had experienced during the encounter with Jane, but accepting it proved difficult for the doctor. She had repeated the chain of events to herself over and over. Maura had been physically attracted to Jane when they'd first met. She had tamped it down out of professionalism, and extinguished it entirely when they became close friends. She truly believed she had not been ever haunted by the memory of that attraction. They had shared a bed and discussed (at the time) hypothetical same sex dating preferences. They had pretended to be lovers, had even seen each other naked, and that initial attraction had never, ever come up again for Maura. She was a doctor. She worked with the dead, who were also often the murdered. Compartmentalizing her feelings was easier than breathing. She carefully examined the last few years of her life, her interactions with Jane, and was certain she wasn't fooling herself. So why, all of a sudden, was that long-buried attraction being exhumed like a body from a cold case with a new lead?

She left work early, gave Susie a half-formed excuse about having a meeting (which was not entirely untrue). She spent thirteen minutes standing in the grocery store with a six pack of beer in her hand, trying to decide whether she would purchase it for Jane. She left empty-handed. When she arrived at home, she opened her fridge and remembered that there was a single leftover beer in her fridge from the last time Jane had been there, all those months ago. She spent a subsequent eleven minutes trying to decide whether to dump it down the drain. It remained in the fridge. She got back in her car, went to the store, and came back with the six pack.

She made a light dinner, ate it quickly and tasted nothing. She spread out all her autopsy notes and other materials from Arthur Hill's murder on the kitchen island, then opened a bottle of wine. She sipped her wine, stared at the case file, but thought mostly of Jane.

It had been very easy to forget her initial attraction to Jane, Maura surmised, because of the fact that she had believed Jane to be straight. It had never been her style to pursue the unattainable. Then, the women had developed a deeply fulfilling friendship, the first such friendship of Maura's life. If there had been any attraction left, Maura would have forced herself to get over it, in order to preserve the friendship. But now, she knew that Jane wasn't straight. And now, the two women were no longer friends. With the two main deterrents to the attraction no longer true, it seemed that her desire for Jane had returned. So it stood to reason that in order to get rid of it, Maura either needed new roadblocks to replace the old ones, or to make up with Jane so there was a friendship to preserve, or both.

Suddenly, she heard Jane's car pull up the drive. She glanced at the clock, surprised how early the women had returned. She heard the engine go quiet, then the loud, happy chatter of Angela and Jane as they exited the vehicle. Maura held her breath, wondering if Jane would just come right in like she used to.

A few moments passed, long enough that Maura wondered if Jane had changed her mind. She listened for the sound of an engine turning over. Finally, there was a knock on the door.

Maura stood, ran a hand down the front of her blouse. She made her way to the door and opened it to find Jane.

"Hey." Jane's voice was a little lower than usual, perhaps apprehensive. She offered Maura a small smile. Maura didn't quite return it, but she felt her features relax as she stepped aside to make way. A warmth spread through her stomach as Jane passed closely by her, but nothing like the reaction in her office this morning. Maybe she was already on her way to getting her attraction back under control.

"Hello, Jane. How was dinner? I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"It was good. I think Ma rushed it along a bit when I told her you and I were meeting about the case afterwards." Angela was very obviously desperate for the two women to reconcile. Jane made her way inside, placed the case file on the island, and shrugged off her jacket. Maura waited for her to toss it over the back of a chair or the couch, and found herself surprised when Jane hung it up properly. "You're actually probably saving me from being invited inside to listen to k.d. lang while she tells me about all the lesbians she knows who have babies." Jane threw a quick glance over to Maura, and Maura understood that Jane was sending out that joke like a weather balloon. Her reaction to Jane's joke would set the tone for the rest of the evening, and she delayed her response for just a moment, weighing that power in her hands.

"She did ask me earlier if I could get her some pamphlets on in vitro fertilization," Maura offered casually. Jane's mouth flew open in horror.

"What? When?" Jane was halfway out the front door, and Maura had to grab her arm to keep her from running across the driveway.

"Jane!"

Jane looked first at Maura's firm grip on her upper arm, and then looked directly into her eyes. Maura gave her a wry smile, almost certainly the first one she'd given her since before the shooting. Jane's eyes went wide, and she placed her free hand against her heart. "Maura, oh my god. How did you not get hives from that?"

"Come on, Jane. Jokes aren't lies." Maura was surprised to find herself laughing.

"They can be!"

"They can be," Maura agreed. "Some jokes are very, very true, though." Jane stared at her. "But this one wasn't. Please, let's sit down." Maura realized she still had a hold of Jane's arm, and she let it go a little abruptly. She cleared her throat, returned to the kitchen island, and took a sip of her wine. "We should get to work."

Jane nodded her agreement and followed her to the kitchen. Maura saw her glance quickly at the wine bottle, knew right away she was gauging how much Maura had consumed before her arrival, and also probably wondering if she planned to share.

"There's some beer in the fridge," Maura said as soon as Jane's eyes landed on the bottle, wanting Jane to know she noticed her sleuthing, and also wanting Jane to get on the same footing as her, and perhaps most surprisingly, wanting Jane to know she cared. Jane looked surprised.

"Thanks," she said, as she navigated around to the fridge. She opened it and stuck her head inside. Maura watched as she stilled for a moment when her eyes found the new six pack and also the single bottle. She looked back at Maura. "You have…seven beers?"

Maura immediately regretted not getting rid of the lone beer. "Yes." She wet her lips, shrugged her shoulders, then decided to go with the barest version of the facts. "There was one left from the last time you were here. I picked up six more after work."

Jane looked at Maura in a way that unsettled her, then uncapped her beer and took a long swig. "Thanks for not drinking my beer," she grinned.

Maura wanted to return the grin, but another part of her found itself a little mad at how easily Jane was pulling her into their old rhythm. They still hadn't reached any kind of resolution about the conflict that had pulled them apart. She pressed her lips together.

"Let's get to work."

If Jane was disappointed, she didn't show it. She nodded and settled herself into one of the chairs at the counter. She began spreading photographs and interview transcripts.

"Okay, first thing's first. Are you finally going to tell me what you noticed in the meeting yesterday? You were looking at these pictures real hard."

"Really hard," Maura corrected out of habit. "I really don't think it was much of anything. But yes, I'll tell you." She leaned over the counter, using a finger to push several photographs into a cluster. "The flowers in all the garden plots, so many of them had been cut, and they'd all been cut the same, way down the length of the stem. That's not unusual, but it perhaps speaks to a certain level of care, or a desire to make professional-looking arrangements. All the same sorts of flowers had been cut from the different gardens too, if I'm not mistaken. It looks like anyone who was growing zinnias and dahlias had most of them cut. I don't want to make an assumption, but with so many of the same flowers targeted, and all of them cut so carefully, it seems likely to be the work of the same person, presumably the victim." She paused, taking a sip of wine. "But based on the profile that's been built of the victim, and also the pictures of the damage we know for a fact he caused, it doesn't seem like his work. And he just didn't seem like the type who would be harvesting dozens and even upwards of a hundred flowers."

Jane nodded along as Maura spoke, waiting for her to finish. "Yeah, so believe it or not, Korsak caught that too," Jane said. Maura raised an eyebrow. Surprised that Korsak would notice such a thing, but mostly disappointed that she hadn't brought anything new to the investigation. She worried she might not have anything else to contribute.

"Sergeant Korsak noticed?"

"Yeah," Jane nodded. "Apparently he gardens."

"That's sweet," Maura said softly. She found herself a little melancholy about not being there for that revelation. She certainly would have been, months ago, and she would have bonded with Vince while Jane and Barry made fun. Maura shook herself out of the feeling, and was relieved that Jane was too focused on the photos to notice Maura's sadness.

"But you know what," Jane murmured as she leaned her face in close to the photos. "I get what you're saying about how it doesn't really match with the rest of his handiwork in the garden. He was really careless and cruel about it." She pointed to one of the photographs, showing a trampled pumpkin. Then she pointed to a picture of Arthur Hill's plot. "But the flowers in his garden were cut the exact same way, so I guess he just has a greater respect for flowers?"

Maura gave a sound of lukewarm agreement, then turned her gaze to the photographs of Hill's shabby apartment. "Were there any flowers in his home?" She looked up at Jane.

"None. Which is also a good point. That's a lot of flowers that got cut, although based on our interviews, they weren't all cut at once, it happened bit by bit. But definitely, if it was him, we don't know what he was doing with them. Maybe he had a girlfriend?" Maura's breath caught in her throat, an involuntary response to the word 'girlfriend'. She tried to avoid the thought that Jane has one. "Perhaps? But this many weeks into the investigation, wouldn't you typically expect to know if he had a significant other?"

"You would," Jane answered. She had kind of a goofy smile on her face, and Maura looked back at her in confusion.

"What? What did I say?"

Jane tried to tamp down her smile, but she couldn't.

"Yesterday you said you wanted to be the chief medical examiner, but you're definitely being a detective."

"Oh." Maura felt herself redden a bit, and hoped it wasn't too obvious. Jane's smile stirred something inside her. She furrowed her brow. "Well, it's not my strong suit, but you asked me to help. I feel bad that I haven't been able to provide any further evidence from my actual job."

"Hey, no, you guys gave us plenty." Jane waved away Maura's words. "We got cause of death, a decent time of death, and after buying over three hundred dollars worth of gardening equipment from Home Depot, we have the murder weapon narrowed down to three possible models of garden shears. We know he was murdered by his own plot, we know he was dragged to the compost pile by a single person, we know their approximate height. That's not nothing."

"I suppose," Maura murmured, her eyes scanning all the paperwork in front of her, picking up one of the transcripts. "It's interesting that the interviews didn't narrow the search very much."

Jane sighed ruefully, staring down at the counter. "Yeah. It did feel a little like no one really wanted to help us get to the bottom of this. He was a really unlikeable guy. Sounds like if there was a slur associated with who you are, he was going to use it when he talked to you."

Maura wet her lips, carefully choosing her next words.

Speaking of people with an identity where there's a slur that could be used against them...

"Your friend, from the garden." She paused for a moment, waiting for Jane to look up at her. She continued speaking when their eyes met. "I hope she's not a suspect?" She watched Jane swallow a hard gulp of beer.

"Oh. You mean Amy." Jane sat up a little straighter, cleared her throat. "We did question her, but she isn't actually a member of the community garden. She was there the day the body was discovered because she was helping a friend with their plot." Jane paused, and seemed to be debating whether to provide more details. "She has her own small farm, actually. She sells stuff at farmer's markets."

"That's good." Maura hated this woman.

"Yeah," Jane said.

"Jane?" Maura asked.

"Yes?" "Is it her?"

"Is it…" Jane trailed off, a little confused, or pretending to be.

Maura sighed. "The woman you're dating."

"Oh," Jane said simply. She finished the beer she was drinking in one long pull, and then got up to grab another. She turned back towards Maura, opened the new bottle, and looked a little sheepish. "Well, to be honest with you, Maura, it's not exactly correct that I'm dating a woman."

Maura blinked, taken aback. "I don't understand? I heard—"

"I'm dating women," Jane said in a rush. She took a quick chug of beer as the shock registered on Maura's face, who was speechless. "And yeah, Amy is one of them."

Maura leaned back in her chair, trying to process this information, and to hold back the jealousy that threatened to bubble up. She avoided looking at Jane. No matter how she turned Jane's confession over in her brain, she couldn't find an orientation where this piece of information could click into her conception of the world. Jane Rizzoli, who barely every dated one man at a time, was suddenly out to her friends and family and dating multiple women.

"Wow, Jane." She shook her head softly, not bothering to disguise her surprise. "You really jumped in with both feet, didn't you? I'm not even sure what to say. I'm happy for you, though." She saw Jane raise her eyebrow a bit skeptically, taking another sip of her beer. Maura gave her a scolding look, and continued. "I am. I know we aren't friends anymore, but it's always wonderful when someone…" She trailed off, not sure how to finish. She twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. "When someone opens themselves up to new possibilities."

Jane wrinkled her nose. "Yuck," she said playfully. "But thank you."

A prolonged silence followed, though it wasn't an awkward one. Maura finished her glass of wine, and Jane tipped back the last of her second, quickly consumed beer. Things seemed to be escalating. Both women looked at each other. At the same time, Maura reached for the bottle of wine while Jane turned around to grab another beer, an unspoken agreement to prolong the conversation. Jane closed the fridge, but kept her back to Maura.

"I want to be friends again, Maura. But I can't apologize for what I did."

Maura had, throughout the conversation and with the aid of the wine, found herself sinking swiftly back into warm feelings for Jane. The sudden reminder that Jane didn't understand how she'd wrong Maura was like getting dunked in an ice bath. She felt the sharp lick of anger travel up her spine. She pushed her wine glass away and stood up swiftly. "Oh my god, Jane, you really don't get it, do you?"

Jane turned around, surprised at Maura's sudden shift in tone, but immediately on the defensive.

"No, Maur, I really fucking don't."

"Do not call me that. Do not just call me that like everything is fine," Maura fumed.

"Oh, everything is very obviously not fine, Maura," She said her full first name pointedly while stepping back towards the counter, stepping into Maura's space. She stared down at the much shorter woman. "I just don't understand why after all these months the smartest person I've ever met still doesn't understand that I fucking had to shoot."

"Of course I understand why you had to shoot!" Maura was shouting now. She stood as tall as she could, grateful to still be wearing heels, and tilted her head defiantly up at Jane. She knew tears were brimming in her eyes, but she didn't care. She saw that Jane was momentarily disarmed by confusion, and she continued. "In the moment it happened I was so mad. But I know he would have shot you and Frost both. I know all that. But you didn't give me any time to feel hurt, to experience loss. You expected me to be back on your side right away. It was all so much, Jane." Her voice cracked, and the tears started flowing. "I didn't know what to do with any of it. And all of this," she gestured grandly, and then from Jane to herself, "all of it could have been avoided if you'd just pretended to be sorry. And I know how stupid that sounds! I know." She turned away from Jane, wiping furiously at her eyes. She continued with her back to Jane. "But I think I deserved to be irrational one time in my life, and I just wanted you to figure that out."

As the words poured out of Maura, she found herself deeply embarrassed. Saying it all out loud, it felt like such a painfully silly reason for her to push away the most important person in her life for so long. She couldn't bear to look Jane in the eyes again. She gasped as she felt Jane's hand on her shoulder. There it was. Mixed in with all the sadness and embarrassment, and under all that anger, was white hot desire.

"Maura…"

Maura didn't turn around. She had never intended to tell Jane why she was upset, and now she was very worried that other things she had never planned to say might end up spilling out.

"Jane, please go."

"What? No! Maura, please." Jane tried to maneuver around to face her, but Maura turned her body away again.

"Jane, I promise, we will talk about this again. But I need you to go. I can't."

Jane went quiet, and her hand fell away from Maura's shoulder. Maura could feel her need to solve the problem that night. The air was thick with it. But Jane didn't speak again. Maura listened as Jane placed the unopened beer she was still holding on the counter. She listened as Jane gathered up the files. Maura closed her eyes to the sound of Jane getting her jacket from the closet, shutting it quietly. A moment later she heard Jane leave.