DISCLAIMER: I do not own Rizzoli & Isles nor any of the characters from the show. I am writing this purely for entertainment, not profit. Rizzoli and Isles are property of Tess Gerritsen and TNT.

For full disclaimers, please refer to the first chapter.

Chapter 9

"Will you tell me why you passed out? I know seeing me after more than three years was likely a shock, and I know you always had a thing for me in uniform, but I never saw you pass out before without a reason…" Jane tried, carefully.

The only time Jane had actually seen Maura pass out had been immediately after the shooting on Korsak's wedding, when Maura had suffered a head injury that had required brain surgery to get fixed.

"It is nothing, Jane…" Maura swallowed hard, deviating her eyes evasively.

"Hives, Maura." Jane pointed with the bottleneck of the beer in the overall direction of Maura's upper chest.

Maura sighed. "Fine… When I first saw the uniform, I thought someone was here to give me bad news about you." Maura shuddered, before continuing. "And I am recovering from a serious case of malaria. Sometimes I still feel very, very dizzy, especially if there is a stress trigger…" Maura lowered her eyes.

"Malaria… Where have you been to contract malaria? No… let me guess… Africa? Doctors Without Borders?"

Maura nodded.

Jane was afraid of what she was about to ask, but she needed to.

"Have you seen… Ian?" Jane's voice sounded uncertain and afraid.

Maura snapped her head back up to look directly into Jane's eyes.

"Yes, I have. Yes, he tried to rekindle the flame. No, nothing happened, being face-to-face with him again just reminded me that he never held a candle compared to what we have." Maura reassured Jane firmly.

Jane nodded. 'To what we have.' Maura had said. Not 'to what we had.' Maybe there was still hope for them.

"But back to the malaria… What happened? How serious was serious?" Jane asked, concern lacing her voice as her eyes scanned Maura.

"It was very serious…" Maura admitted. "I was sent to recover in Paris. I had to stay two weeks in a hospital there, before they sent me home, to the apartment I had not been to in more than three years, to complete the full eight weeks cycle of recovery."

Again, Jane nodded.

"What about you? Afghanistan? I remember you told me once that not all thirty thousand troops there know each other, but maybe you saw Casey?" Maura asked, divided among feeling anxious and hesitant and curious to hear Jane's answer.

"He is a General now, responsible for the Secret Operations I joined. Same old same old. Like Ian, he tried to rekindle the flame. Like with Ian, nothing happened, facing him again just reminded me of why it never worked between him and I: he is not you." Jane stated, matter-of-factly.

'Is', not 'was', Maura noticed. Could Jane still possibly feel that way about her?

"Your knee… Were you shot?" Maura asked, tentatively, having controlled as much as she could her medical need to ask about Jane's injuries, concern taking the best of her.

"Yes. AK bullet. Hit the side of my knee. Will leave a scar but not expected to cause any major motor impairment."

Maura shuddered. AK was a big caliber rifle. Just thinking of the danger Jane had been exposed to gave Maura the chills.

"How long have you been travelling to still be in uniform?" Maura could see the weariness in Jane's expression.

"Gosh, I lost track of timezones about half a day ago. I left Afghanistan at 4AM local time of what I think was this morning, but I am not entirely sure anymore." Jane rubbed her face, pushing her unruly curly hair back.

"Jane! It has been almost twenty-four hours! You need to rest." Maura made a quick calculation in her head.

"I could try to fool you, but I honestly would love a real shower without the worry about sand entering every crevice of the bathroom, and to lay down to stretch my bones." Jane admitted.

Maura picked up the crutches from the floor, handing them to Jane, and helping lower Jane's leg from the coffee table. Jane proficiently maneuvered herself to stand, and moved to climb the stairs to the master bedroom, with Maura following right behind her carrying Jane's rucksack.

When they reached their bedroom door, Jane stopped, suddenly realizing their awkward situation.

"I am… sorry, Maura, I didn't even stop to ask… I just assumed…" twice Jane began, and twice Jane stopped, shaking her head, unsure how she could phrase her uncertainty.

It was not that Jane was uncertain about how she felt about Maura. She loved Maura, there was never any question about that in her mind and in her heart. But did Maura still love her? And would Maura still want to be with her after three years apart and after all that have happened?

Maura put her hand on Jane's forearm, her beautiful hazel eyes raising to meet chocolate brown ones.

"It is quite alright, Jane. Go in." Maura reassured her. "I will grab something for you to change into, out of this uniform, while you shower. Yell if you need any help. I will also try to find first aid items that are not expired so we can change the bandage on your leg."

Jane nodded, maneuvering into the bathroom.

God, it felt good to be in a real bathroom after so long. Jane stripped quickly, brushed her teeth, used the toilet, before moving to sit on the shower bench, letting the jets of water wash away the sand and the tension of her body.

When she was done, she stood to pat herself dry. And for the first time in three years, she took a good look at the new scars covering her torso. It was not like there were any body size mirrors in the camp in Afghanistan. Here, under the exceptional lighting of Maura's bathroom, there was no way to ignore or hide them. Jane sighed, rolled her hair in a towel, and rolled another towel around her torso, before stepping out of the bathroom.

Maura was sitting on the corner of the bed, an improvised first aid kit at hand. She patted the place besides her for Jane to sit, and pulled a wooden stool so Jane could move her foot on top of it to elevate the injured leg.

Maura proceeded to remove the wet bandage, before carefully examining the wound and the stitching, cleaning and drying it, reapplying the scaring antibiotic cream and rebandaging it.

"This is a very big wound, Jane, but it is healing nicely. It is what? Five days old?" Maura asked as she worked. One inch to the side, and Maura knew Jane would have lost the lower part of her leg.

"That sounds about right…"

"I thought Frankie told me you could come immediately home to recover in case you got wounded…" Maura tried.

"I could…" and Jane didn't need to say that she hadn't.

Jane stood up once Maura finished patching the wound, seeing the cotton PJ's Maura had separated for her, shorts and a comfortable t-shirt, plus clean underwear.

Maura seemed for the first time to note the towel still wrapped firmly around Jane's torso.

"It is not the first time you've been hurt in these three years, is it?" Maura asked, her tone tense. "And please, don't lie to me." She added, firmly.

"No, it is not the first time." Jane admitted, honestly, her back to Maura.

Maura could infer that all those times, however many they were, Jane had the option to come back home. She had not taken them. Even with her leg, she only took it after five days of the injury.

"There is nothing underneath that towel that I have not seen from every possible angle, Jane..." Maura tried to tease, noticing Jane's hesitation in removing the towel.

"Actually, there is…" Jane lowered her eyes, deciding there was no point in delaying the inevitable, and dropping the towel she had been holding on to as if for dear life.

She felt Maura's eyes scanning her.

"There are seven different new bullet scars, Jane." Maura spoke in a very small voice, swallowing hard, afraid of what her conclusions were leading her to, as she walked towards Jane.