Chapter 3

The rain had stopped, leaving a thick, warming haze over the city. Jane had abandoned her jacket upon arriving at the park, but even her thin blouse and rolled-up sleeves were no match for the dense humidity. The park, mostly shaded, was quiet today due to the weather, or perhaps the remnants of yellow tape that once walled off the body at the edge of the woods that still stood as a warning. Sandwiched between large, expensive apartment buildings and quaint neighborhoods within walking distance, it wasn't exactly the kind of park you'd expect to find a body. Usually those crimes led the detectives to a different side of town. But murder doesn't discriminate.

The woods alongside them were dense and uninviting. Jane could see where the landscapers had begun trimming and pruning the dying leaves and dead branches in preparation for winter. The shapely, well trimmed brush came to an immediate end at the yellow tape line.

"This was where they found the body." Frost said, examining the photos he had printed off before leaving the station. He turned them this way and that, trying to match them up with the location for Jane to see. He laid a few down on the leaves to mark key spots that had been searched. "Her head was near this bush, her feet here," Frost pointed with a latex covered finger. Jane snapped on her own gloves and stepped toward the bush, crouching down to inspect the ground. She searched for any sign of debris, clothing, or anything that could clue them in on how this body ended up here without a trace of another human. Something that someone may have missed.

There was something about these woods that intrigued Jane. A sensation urged her to search them. With her luck running out in the close proximity of the body, Jane stood and stared through the trees. Something had to be in there if there was nothing out here. She thought to herself.

"I don't know what you think you're going to find, Rizzoli. They already scanned every inch of the place this morning. Everything they found is cataloged and in the file. No clothes, no ID, nothing." Korsak said, patting his beading forehead. "God, who opened hell's gate this afternoon."

Frost wiped away his own beading sweat, noticing Jane's fixed stare. "To be fair, we didn't go into the woods. Do you really think something might be back there? Why bring the body through all that just to lay her at the edge for someone to find? It seems like it would have been smarter to leave her deeper in the woods. No one would have found her." Frost rationalized.

"They wanted her found. And unless we are sticking with the 'fell out of the sky' theory, she had to come from somewhere. There were no witnesses to see the body dropped. Maybe it was too dark. The woods would have been good cover. It's been raining a lot; that keeps park visitors down. How many people did we interview in that building?" Jane pointed to a residential high-rise just north of the park, where a few of the windows overlooked their area.

"The officers went in, but said no one really had any information. None of them knew of any missing young women in the area. Like you said, if it was dark, maybe they were all asleep," Frost answered.

Jane headed closer to the tree line, with Frost and Korsak following closely. "Looks like the tree line isn't that deep." Frost said, opening his phone to his map and examining the area. "Maybe half a mile. Then it opens up into some industrial areas."

"I hate industrial areas. Too much movement of goods and people. Perfect place to hide evidence." Korsak sighed.

Jane ducked under a branch, ignoring Korsak's pessimistic tone. "Let's spread out as much as we can. Stay within earshot in case anyone finds something."

Frost and Korsak nodded, one went left and the other right. Before long, their figures had been masked by the dense brush. Thick vines and small trees littered the ground below Jane's boots, snagging at her with every step. Would be a hell of a job to move a body through this. She thought, pulling her curls up into a neat ponytail to keep from catching on stray branches. Her eyes scanned the ground, catching every piece of trash, making sure she didn't miss anything useful. Cigarette butts, beer cans, McDonalds bags torn apart by raccoons or squirrels—so far no luck at all. It was hard to tell what could be relevant and what was typical Boston litter. She wondered how much of the homeless population called this little park home. She needed to find something that didn't belong, something fresh, new, and out of place from the rest of the woods.

"Find anything?" Jane shouted. Silence hung low around her, the stillness pressing down on her shoulders as if the sky itself was lowering down.

The woods fell quiet and there was no report from Korsak or Frost. Her mouth turned dry. "Damn it. I told them to stay close." Jane eyed both directions hoping to hear one of them or see them walking through the brush. "Korsak? Frost?" She continued on, her voice tinged with frustration. She sighed deeply, hoping they would meet up once she found the other side at the industrial buildings.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jane suddenly spotted movement. A tall, slender, black object moved silently through the brush as easily as if it were an open field. Her heart raced as the figure disappeared behind a tree, vanishing as if it had never existed. She stepped slowly in its direction, every nerve on edge. Her mind zoned in on the space around her, hyper-aware of every sound her boots made and every shadow that stretched out in front of her. With a quick, practiced motion, she unholstered her gun, her grip tightening as she advanced cautiously.

She couldn't shoot without knowing where Korsak and Frost were. "Police!" she hollered. "Come out!" Silence engulfed her. "Shit." Jane relaxed slightly, feeling like she was overreacting to her mind playing tricks on her. Her exhaustion was catching up with her. She paused to listen and watch, scanning the area. Up ahead, she squinted and saw a red cloth-like material sticking up from some leaves. Her pulse quickened and she hurried to the object, hoping she had found something that belonged to their Jane Doe or the killer. When it was just below her, she reached down gently and picked it up, her eyes wide and watering.

It was a stuffed Pooh teddy bear with the right eye missing. Jane's heart pounded. "Korsak?" Her hands shook, and her head began to spin lightly. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. She stared at the bear. "Frost?" She thought she shouted, but her words felt unreal. She took the teddy bear in both hands, swallowing hard. "There's no way. Please. There's no way." She slowly turned the bear over. On the back of the red shirt, written childishly in black Sharpie, was the name Rebecca.

Jane dropped the bear and backed away quickly, as if it had poisoned her skin just to touch it. "No, no, no, no. Please." Jane squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could. She backed up blindly until her heel caught something hard, and she fell back. "Ahh!" She screamed out. Lifting her hand, she found a piece of glass pierced through her palm. "Shit!" She tried to pull it out, but it sent a shooting pain up her arm. "Ah, damn it!" Blood ran down the side of her hand and dripped on the leaves beneath her.

Jane's chest began to tighten, as if an invisible hand was squeezing the air from her lungs. Her breath came in shallow gasps, struggling to draw enough oxygen. Her heart pounded wildly.

"Rizzoli." A small, faint voice cried out. Jane's eyes snapped open to see a small girl, no older than 14, clutching the teddy bear a few yards away. The girl's hair was in two perfect long blonde braids on either side of her shoulders. She wore a pink shirt hanging low over her jean shorts, her feet bare on the heavy brush beneath her.

"Rizzoli." the girl repeated, stretching the teddy bear out to her.

Jane was frozen, petrified by what she was seeing. Both of her hands began to shake uncontrollably, the excruciating pain in her hand melting away. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

"Rebecca?" Jane faltered. The girl's jaw dropped, and a screeching scream penetrated Jane's ears. She covered her ears as best she could without stabbing herself in the head with the glass, but it was no use. The sound pierced through every fiber of her body. Her legs went weak as she cried out to mask the scream. Her mind raced, like a chaotic swirl that she couldn't grasp. It was as if she were trapped in a nightmare, her body betraying her with every second that passed. Jane curled next to a tree for support as her world seemed to spin out of control.

"Jane! JANE!"

She was shaking. Her shoulders rocking back and forth.

"Jane, what happened?"

Her eyes blurred with tears, a puddle of blood beneath her hand. She focused on the voice around her, Frost's face coming into vision.

"Jane. What happened? God, what happened to her hand?"

"She must have fallen. Help me." Her body became weightless, her arms lifted up and wide over the men's shoulders.

"Wait." She whispered, trying to look back, but she saw nothing but brush. No girl, no teddy bear, no Rebecca.

"Jane, you need stitches, come on."

"Frost?"

"Yeah, Rizzoli, I'm here."

"Ouch, damn it." Jane grimaced as the doctor inserted a small needle into the palm of her hand. It was the last of five stitches on this side; four more awaited the back of her hand.

Korsak and Frost sat quietly across from Jane in the emergency room. "You were lucky," the doctor remarked, shaking his head. "Doesn't look like it hit any nerves." He gently wrapped her hand with clean cloth and inspected her eyebrow again. "That shouldn't need stitches, but keep an eye on it and make sure it stays clean." He sighed, glancing at the three disheveled officers. "If you start feeling any numbness or loss of movement in your hand, come back and let me check it. Otherwise, you're good to go whenever you're ready. The receptionist will give you your prescription for painkillers."

"I don't want them," Jane muttered. "But, thank you." Her tone sounded forced.

The doctor exchanged concerned glances with Frost and Korsak as he handed them his checkout paperwork. "Just in case, then." He quietly exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Korsak immediately turned his attention to Jane."Janie, what the hell?" He started towards her as soon as the door latched closed. "What happened?"

"I fell. I just wasn't paying attention. Tripped on a damn branch or something." Jane hopped off the table and grabbed her jacket, the right sleeve was stained with blood.

Frost chimed in. "Jane, we all know that's not all that happened." He eyed her with concern.

"God, I'm fine. I tripped and landed on some glass." She reached for the door. "I don't need babysitters."

Korsak and Frost quietly followed her out of the emergency clinic. Korsak stopped at the counter and picked up Jane's paperwork she had purposely forgotten to collect. Frost caught up to her outside.

"Jane, we're not trying to babysit you. I'm your partner. We just want to make sure you are okay."

Jane sighed. "I'm fine." Truth is, she was embarrassed. Losing her composure like that could jeopardize her job, and this case, and she couldn't afford that. It put everyone at risk when she couldn't keep her head on straight.

Frost paused, troubled by his thoughts. He had never had a partner like Rizzoli–someone so dedicated to her job, leading by example rather than just shouting demands. She always got her hands dirty, but he feared she might be in too deep. He had seen other cops and detectives lose themselves in their work. He had watched his own father do it until he left him and his mother, and seen friends slowly self-destruct. He couldn't bear the thought of Jane going down that path.

Jane checked her watch impatiently.

Finally, Frost uttered words he never wanted to say, especially to Jane. "Jane, if you need more time, no one would blame you. Korsak and I can handle this case."

Jane scoffed. "I'm fine, Frost. Dr. Chen released me. I just tripped."

Frost wiped his face in frustration. "Yeah, you said that already." He walked over to his car and opened the back seat. "Come on, let's go back to the station."

Jane's heart sank. She knew he was only trying to help in his way, and she wasn't making it easy for him. His life was on the line too. If she had a breakdown, it could cost more than just her job–it could cost a life. Before she could apologize, Korsak bounded down the steps to them, a small folder in his hands.

"Hey, Rizzoli, I got your prescription."

Jane glanced down at her hand, covered in the white cloth. She could feel the throb of her heart beat through the tight stitches. "I'll meet you back at the station."

She turned and headed down the street away from them.

Frost and Korsak exchanged another worried glance but made no move to follow her. They knew she was too independent for them to argue with. She needed time to clear her head. Whatever had happened in those woods was something she wanted to forget. Maybe she needed help, but she couldn't admit to herself what kind of help she needed. She had always compartmentalized her emotions, pouring herself into her work as a distraction, but this time, it wasn't enough. Pouring herself into her work now just seemed to make it all worse. She was angry at herself remembering Dr. Chen's words, "... eventually you run out of compartments."

Jane's leg shook nervously, her white-bandaged hand awkwardly resting on Maura's dining room table, a stark contrast to the black dress she had chosen for dinner. She could hear Maura shuffling around the kitchen.

"Babe, I can really help you with something…"

"No!" A quick shout came from around the corner. Maura hurried out of the kitchen, holding a large platter. Jane tried to stand and help her.

"No, no. Sit down. I got it." Maura struggled with the heavy plate. "You shouldn't put any pressure on your palm. I wish you would let me look at it and make sure it's not getting infected."

Jane shook her head. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch."

Maura's eyebrows furrowed. "Jane, you have 9 stitches in your hand. That's not a scratch. And who knows what was on that glass. Tetanus, sepsis, necrotizing fasciitis… Do you know what it's like to amputate a hand?" Maura shook her head and took a large sip of her wine, her OCD manifesting as she fiddled with the dishes around the table, making sure each one was perfectly facing.

"Lovely dinner talk." Jane mumbled under her breath. Maura didn't seem amused by her comment. "Hey," Jane rose and placed a reassuring hand on Maura's forearm. "If it makes you feel better, I'll let you change the bandage after dinner." Jane chuckled softly. "Huh, if that's not your idea of romance, I don't know what is." She smirked.

Maura chuckled and relaxed a little. "I'm sorry," She sighed. "But yes, that does sound romantic."

"Sit." Jane kissed her forehead. "I'll get more wine."

Maura obliged, taking a moment to adjust more of the silverware so that all the pieces faced the same direction and fix a napkin that had been nudged by the heavy center plate.

"I just wish we could have found something in those woods today, you know." Jane's voice trailed off as she entered the kitchen, selecting what looked like the most expensive bottle of wine, though really they all appeared to be the same. "I really feel like something is back there. Maybe tomorrow we'll head to that industrial park. There are so many trucks in and out…" Jane grunted, struggling with the corkscrew. "... there's no telling what all could be back there." The cork popped, and Jane winced from the pressure on her hand, quickly glancing back into the dinning room to make sure Maura hadn't heard her hiss. Maura remained properly posed in her chair, staring down at her plate.

Maura had gone above and beyond for this dinner. She had ordered duck from a highly esteemed and exorbitantly priced restaurant uptown. It was one of the first places Maura had taken Jane on a date, back when their relationship was still blossoming and they indulged in extravagant experiences. However, Jane would have been just as content sitting on the couch, devouring pizza and watching an old black-and-white movie with Maura. In fact, she might have even preferred that, as it would have spared her the need to dress up. Yet, Jane understood Maura's preference for propriety and her desire to do things right. So, she will always willingly oblige to nights like these. Besides, seeing Maura in that elegant navy blue dress was a delight for Jane–it happened to be her favorite dress on Maura.

Silently, Jane emerged from the kitchen and refilled Maura's glass, interrupting her contemplative gaze. Maura offered a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Jane poured herself a generous glass of wine before settling back in her seat across the wide expanse of Maura's dining room table. The silence between them stretched, thick with unease. They both served themselves portions of succulent duck and creamy mashed potatoes, though Jane deftly avoided the small bowl of asparagus as if it were a dreaded affliction.

"Did you finish your autopsies today?" Jane finally broke the silence, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

Maura blinked a few times as she chewed, delicately wiping her lips before responding. "Not quite. I'll probably have to go in early tomorrow," she replied, taking a gentle sip of her wine.

"I think Korsak may have located a family member of our victim. Those DNA results really came in handy. We're supposed to meet with them by the end of the week."

"Jane," Maura interrupted, setting down her utensils. "Can we not discuss work right now?"

Jane cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. Yeah, of course." She fidgeted with her fork, pretending to be engrossed in rearranging the food on her plate. Maura sipped her wine, watching her fiancee grow increasingly awkward. Jane winced as the edge of her knife pressed against her stitches.

Over the past year, Maura found herself navigating an increasingly tense and strained relationship with Jane. Jane's relentless pursuit of that serial killer consumed her, leaving little room for their relationship to flourish. While Maura tried her best to be supportive and understanding, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that her efforts fell short. Maybe if she had tried harder, Jane would be okay. She feared that Jane might eventually seek something different, someone who could offer more than she could amidst the chaos of the case.

Maura's concerns were deeply rooted in her own insecurities. She worried that the Jane she had known before the Ripper Case–vibrant, balanced, and full of life–was slipping away, replaced by a Jane driven by darkness and obsession. The thought of losing the connection they once shared terrified her. She wondered if this new version of Jane would still want her, or if their relationship would become another casualty of Jane's all-consuming mission.

"Um, Ma told me Tommy has been doing real good. Might get released in a couple weeks."

"That's great, Jane." Maura stated flatly. She had expected her response to sound more enthusiastic, but her voice failed to muster it. Jane pretended not to notice.

"Turns out he's gotten really good at chess since he's been in prison. I'd say he still probably couldn't beat me…"

Maura sighed.

"What?"

"What are we doing?" Maura looked up at Jane with pitiful, puppy-like eyes.

"You said you didn't want to talk about work." Jane protested.

"You are correct, I did say that." Maura stated plainly again. "You know, I've been thinking about my vows." She suddenly changed the subject.

Jane smirked. "Those are supposed to be secret until…"

"Jane." Maura cut her off with a purposeful sideways stare. Jane held up her hands apologetically. "I've been reflecting on our relationship, specifically when we first started seeing each other. Sneaking off at work to steal a few moments together. Late-night conversations when we should have been asleep, but instead found ourselves planning our future together. Or solving cases together." Maura smirked softly. "I've been trying to gather all my thoughts together."

Jane swallowed hard. The file on Maura's computer flashed in her memory.

"I knew when this started it was going to be hard. I knew you'd have hard days, and I would have hard days. I wondered how we'd work through them. Would we sit on the couch with a glass of wine and spill our guts to each other? Would the presence of each of us be enough to calm it all? Could we fight the world together?"

"Maura…"

"Jane." Maura stated more firmly this time, tinged with a hint of anger.

Maura continued, her voice wavering slightly. "Of all the monsters I thought we'd fight together, I never thought…" Her eyes burned, and she looked up at the ceiling to hold back the tears.

Jane tightened her grip on her utensils, feeling the edge of her knife press against her stitches. It was the only thing keeping her emotions in check at the moment.

"I never thought I'd have to fight this relationship."

"We're not fighting."

"Oh, Jane. We are though. Quietly. Slowly. It's eating away at both of us. " She dabbed her cheek with her napkin, careful not to smear her makeup.

Jane's heart sank as she grappled with the overwhelming wave of numbness washing over her. Self-doubt gripped her tightly, every mistake amplified in her mind. The weight of her perceived failure bore down on her, threatening to suffocate her. Maura, her rock and constant support, now seemed to be slipping away. The realization hit her hard, and she couldn't help but blame herself.

Tears welled up in Jane's eyes as she fought to keep them at bay. She had always prided herself on being the strong one, the protector. Now, it felt as if her foundation was crumbling, and the fault lay squarely on her shoulders.

Jane's biggest fear was admitting she was scared. "I don't…" She struggled to find words, hesitant to admit her weaknesses. "I don't know what to do." She gripped her knife tighter, its edges still sending pain through her arm, as if she could push down her internal turmoil with physical discomfort. Her arm began to ache up to her elbow.

Maura's shoulders slumped. The sight of her fiancee's struggle softened her resolve. "Jane, I'm not upset with you. I'm not angry. That's not what this is about. I'm worried about you."

Jane blinked away hot tears, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. She couldn't help but admire Maura's concern, even when she felt incapable of receiving it. Lately, she couldn't be her best self, and she was ashamed.

Suddenly, Jane snorted. She noticed fresh blood seeping from her wound and dropped her knife, eyeing the small red line forming on her bandage.

Maura eyed her, confused by her reaction. "Something funny?"

Jane's hand clenched tightly again, instinctively hiding the wound, her inner turmoil threatening to spill over like the blood on her bandage. She bit her lip, a telltale sign of the emotions swirling inside her. "All my life, I've had this overwhelming urge to protect, to shield those I care about. My family, my friends. And when I first met you, Maura, that urge intensified. I felt this fierce need to keep you safe, to be the one who could protect you from any harm that might come your way. But the truth is, you didn't need my protection. You have always been stronger than me, smarter than me, braver than me."

Jane's voice trembled slightly, her vulnerability laid bare in her words. She cleared her throat, gathering her thoughts, while Maura listened intently.

"When I had that gun pointed to Marcus's head, did you know what I wanted to do? I wanted…" Jane paused, taking in a breath. She was diving into deep waters that she had never dared explore, not even with Dr. Chen. "I wanted to pull that trigger." Jane bit her tongue. "I wanted to end him. In that moment, all I saw was red–anger and fear that any one of those girls he murdered could have been you."

Maura faltered. A tear slid down her cheek, and she heartily wiped it away with her hand, disregarding her makeup.

"I was terrified of that feeling. I've never had that feeling before. I thought about Rebecca. Her family. How different she was from the other victims he had targeted. She was loved, she was cared for, and now missed by her parents and family. It struck me that no matter how much you love someone, at the end of the day, you can't always protect them. I can't protect you like I need to, Maura.

Jane wiped her running nose, emotions raw and unfiltered.

"I thought I was invincible. I thought everyone around me was safe because I could hunt these guys down and put them away. I thought I could protect her. But I lost. He won."

Jane's shoulders slumped as she rested her elbows on the table, burying her face in her hands, unable to meet Maura's gaze. The room fell into an oppressive stillness. The weight of the previously unspoken words hung heavily in the air, casting a shadow over the evening they had envisioned.

Neither Jane nor Maura had the appetite to continue their meal. The plates before them remained untouched, the food growing cold and forgotten. This was not the outcome they had anticipated for their evening together, and the disappointment weighed heavily on both of them.

Suddenly, Maura rose from the table. Jane watched her retreat into her office, only to emerge moments later with her travel medical bag. She set it on the table next to Jane and pulled a chair close.

"Let me see your hand. It's bleeding."

Jane opened her hand to inspect the red stain. Maura unwrapped the wound silently, revealing the stitches on either side of Jane's hand, now damp with her blood. Bruising was starting to form around the stitches, and from Maura's quick examination of the wound, she knew it would leave a lingering scar for the rest of Jane's life. The touch of Maura's smooth, cool fingers as she examined the wound sent a shiver down Jane's spine.

"During my surgery rotations in college, I shadowed one of the most renowned surgeons in the world, Dr. Dean Thomas." Maura said, feeling Jane's hand tense in hers. She applied a moist cotton ball soaked with antiseptic, causing Jane to wince but not pull away. "He was highly skilled and demanding. Very few surgeons were allowed to shadow him due to his reputation. Even fewer doctors left his shadow with glowing recommendations, despite going on to achieve great things in their careers. He pushed them hard, expecting more from them than anyone else had before. I admired him."

Maura flipped Jane's hand over, placing a new cotton ball on the top of her hand.

"I wanted to prove myself to him," she continued. "Everything about me looked good on paper, so in practice, I was determined to break his streak of terrible recommendations. I wanted to be excellent for him. He is one of the reasons my expectations for myself are so high."

Maura wiped the remaining blood from Jane's palm and carefully examined the stitches, ensuring none were busted. She placed a soft pad on both sides of Jane's hand to cushion the cuts.

"I meticulously followed his instructions–put the scalpel next to the needle holder, and the suture next to the hemostat." Maura snorted. "He always insisted on using a #10 blade instead of a #11, and to this day, I still think he was wrong." She digressed briefly. "Anyway, I became adept at anticipating his needs, almost like a chess game. But one day, we faced a major complication, and tension had mounted between us. He was particularly harsh with me and the nurses. The stakes were high, and a misstep could be fatal for the patient. I began to panic. He saw it in my eyes. I was less smooth, grew quiet, and withdrew into my thoughts instead of discussing them with him. He could see my hesitation."

Maura taped the fresh bandage on Jane's hand and neatly packed her equipment back into her bag. She looked up at Jane, who was captivated at Maura's gentle skill with her hand and engrossed in her story. Maura smiled softly.

"Dr. Thomas, despite his demanding nature, said this: 'Dr. Isles, I know you want to shoulder this burden. You want to take it from me, the nurses, the patient, and her family. But look at all of the people in this operating room.' I glanced around at the nurses, busily checking vitals and preparing more tools. He continued, 'This is a team. We all carry this weight. We all bear the consequences of winning and losing this fight. You have to let them share the load. We have to do this together, or we will fail.'"

Maura paused to catch her breath.

"When I agreed to marry you, " She said, raising an eyebrow at Jane, "I agreed to share this life with you, not to unload my life onto your shoulders for you to carry. We can't control the outcomes of our decisions. If we could save everyone, we wouldn't have jobs." Maura gently placed her hand on Jane's cheek, her thumb tracing the hard line of her cheekbone.

"I have never felt safer than when I am with you," Maura whispered, her voice filled with love and reassurance. "I don't love you conditionally. I love you because being with you has awakened feelings in me that I have never felt for anyone else. I am marrying you because I trust you, Jane. I trust that you will always do everything in your power to keep me safe. But please, look at me."

Maura gently tilted Jane's face up to meet her gaze.

"Nothing is going to happen to me," Maura continued, her voice steady and resolute. "I understand the weight you carry and the fear of letting me down. But we are a team, Jane. We face these challenges together. Let me be there for you, let me help you carry the burden. You don't have to shoulder it alone."

Jane's forehead leaned into Maura's and she held it there for a moment. A moment of security that Jane rarely felt with anyone but Maura. The weight that had burdened her seemed to ease as Maura's words washed over her, bringing solace and a renewed sense of hope.

"I love you, Jane Rizzoli," Maura whispered, her voice filled with sincerity. "I always will, no matter what challenges we face."

"I love you too." Jane managed to find her voice.

Maura set a small red box on the table between them, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Jane eyed it curiously, her smirk widening as she felt the red velvet of the box.

"Maura, if you're proposing, I think we've already covered that." Jane teased, her fingers lingering on the box between them.

Maura smiled warmly. "I wanted tonight to be special for another reason."

Jane's shoulders sagged slightly, as she remembered Maura had meticulously planned this evening, only for it to be overshadowed by her own turbulent emotions. "Aw, Maura. I'm sorry. I kind of ruined all this special stuff." She gestured to the now cold, barely touched food on the table.

Maura chuckled. "You didn't ruin anything. Open it."

Jane cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter, casting a quick glance back at Maura before lifting the lid of the red box. She raised an eyebrow, looking back at Maura. "What's this?"

"A key." Maura said with a playful grin.

Jane smirked. "Yeah, I see that. A key to what, exactly?"

"To the house," Maura replied, her voice full of anticipation.

Jane shifted in her seat. "Uh, Maura. I already have a key to your house. We're engaged. I even sleep over sometimes. In your bed." She looked genuinely puzzled.

Maura's laugh was soft and reassuring. "Our bed. This is your house now, too. I want you to officially move in, and I wanted to give you something that says… you're home."

Jane's eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed as a realization sunk in. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Maura's giggle was infectious. "I want you here all the time, not just some or most of the time."

Jane tilted her head, her lips pursed as she considered the offer. "You do realize I'm bringing a lot of… character into this place. And by character, I mean questionable kitchen experiments, a bad habit of leaving the TV on, and a couple of loads of dirty laundry I've been meaning to wash." She grinned.

Maura's smile broadened. "I wouldn't have it any other way." She leaned in and kissed Jane softly. "But you're cleaning up your own messes."

"Oh that's a deal breaker." Jane pushed the box dramatically back toward Maura and crossed her arms in a playful defiance.

Maura swatted Jane's knee and stood, returning her chair to its proper place and began clearing the table.

Jane's face lit up with affection as she watched Maura, her eyes falling back down to the little red velvet box. "I guess you really do like me, huh?"

"All the time." Maura said with a loving smile.