Angela hadn't really known Maura when she'd moved in with her. She'd just been Jane's gorgeous, glamourous friend with her fabulous clothes and weird sense of humour. But Jane was head over heels about her, so Angela had taken to her straight away. She'd never seen Jane that gone on someone. Angela had her reservations about moving in, but Maura had said Angela would be doing her a favour since she worked such odd hours, and that hiring a sitter for Bass was awkward and costly, and that all she needed from her was to look in on him in the evenings she was home late. Angela took her at her word, especially when Jane offered her tiny one-bedroom, saying she could find somewhere else. Maura had the room, and she had a need. It was just until Angela got back on her feet anyway. And Bass kept to himself, mostly - he was never any trouble, and he seemed to like Angela well enough to follow her to his food bowls. He was good company when Maura got home late, Angela worrying about her just as much as Jane now. Their jobs were so dangerous, and they were so young and vulnerable. So innocent. So breakable. But Angela worried less about Jane than she used to, since Maura was the voice of reason, and she worried less about Maura, because Jane would protect her if it was the last thing she did.

Angela liked feeling useful, but Maura was so staunchly independent. She didn't squirm away from Angela when she hugged her, but she never really relaxed. But once Angela started cooking, Angela knew she'd hit the right spot, Maura's face so shy and delighted when Angela had dinner ready for her when she got home. So Angela knew it hadn't all been a scam to make her feel better - Angela had never seen a woman who needed mothering as much as Maura did, and Angela was happy to deliver.

Angela spent a lot of late night with Bass waiting up for her girls. Girls plural, because Angela rarely saw the one without the other. When Maura didn't come home, she was with Jane, and when she did come home, Jane came too. Angela wondered once where they slept at Jane's place, wondered which room Jane slept in at Maura's, and found she knew the answer. They had to know Angela knew, but even with the hip taps and couch cuddles, Angela hadn't seen enough to be able to assume they were dating. And Maura did, when she wasn't with Jane, which was rare, sometimes bring men home. And Jane was miserable every time Maura had a man over. It made Angela wonder. She didn't know, either way, but the look on Jane's face told Angela that Jane was jealous, not of Maura for the men, but of the men for being with Maura. But there were less men, and more Jane as time wore on.

Angela didn't mind. She'd always wanted a daughter like Maura, and a daughter-in-law was just as good. Obviously she'd prefer Maura to date one of her sons, but the way Maura looked at Jane wasn't the way she looked at anyone else. And the way Jane treated Maura - gently, softly, the way she didn't treat anyone else - well. Technically, as a divorced woman the church had nothing left for her. And whatever was between them was so sweet that it made a mockery of Angela's own courtship, and of the church's values.

When Angela came home from The Dirty Robber, it had been years of waiting. Angela had been very patient, knowing that Jane had found her person. She didn't do any of her usual pushing Jane to date, but she hinted often that Maura would be a wonderful mother. And that Jane wasn't getting any younger.

Jane was asleep on the couch, across Maura's lap, looking small and vulnerable. She'd lost a lot of weight lately, and Angela was worried. She hadn't been staying over, she been avoiding Maura, and Angela since she lived with Maura. Maura was stroking Jane's hair and back, her fingers barely touching Jane, her expression torn but tender.

"I know you love her," Angela said finally, turning the rangehood light on. "But if she's not treating you right, you can always find someone who does. I'm always going to support what's best for you, and you've been so sad lately."

"I keep thinking she's going to... and she never does. She keeps pulling away. She drew me in and now she's pushing me away."

"She's scared," Angela defended her. "I know she loves you."

"If I say anything, and she doesn't, then I've ruined everything," Maura said, still stroking Jane's hair.

"But if you do, and she does, then you'll have everything," Angela countered. She'd been patient long enough. "And if she doesn't, I'll kill her," she joked. "I want you in the family. Legally."

Maura nodded sadly. Jane stirred, and Angela slipped out.

The next morning, Jane came down in Maura's kimono, yawning, her hair a mess and lipstick smeared across her face and throat.

"Mornin', Ma," Jane said, giving Angela a kiss to the temple as she started the coffee. Angela smirked to herself and fetched Bass' collard greens. There were certain advantages to living with Doctor Maura Isles - the big tv, the large, efficient kitchen, the company. But best of all was being able to watch her daughter soften into someone who could finally find love with someone who deserved her. It was her reward for staying silent all these years.

Notes:

Well, I love the way we communicate
Your eyes focus on my funny lip shape
Let's hear what you think of me now
But, baby, don't look up, the sky is falling

'Cause sometimes, I said sometimes I hear my voice
And it's been here silent all these

Tori Amos - Silent All These Years