Maura Doyle

The sight of Maura took her breath away. Jane stared at her dumbly, unsure whether she could believe what she was seeing.

It had been a month since they'd had the briefest meeting- since she had first seen Maura in her changed form, and then watched as she was wrenched away again. So many weeks of trying not to think that her friend might be dead, doggedly working away at an impossibly layered case with no leads and so many dead ends, all in the desperate hope that she might be able to find her and bring her home. And now here she was. Jane could hardly believe it could be so easy. Well- she rethought that statement- not easy exactly. Until the moment she stepped out of the elevator she hadn't been entirely sure what she was about to walk into. But she had found exactly what she was looking for.

Her friend was alive. She was better than alive in fact; she seemed to be well taken care of. They could talk and Jane could get answers to all her many questions, make sure she was ok, get her home safely. Jane's head was buzzing with all things she wanted to say, and then… abruptly they were gone; they evaporated as she really noticed the apartment for the first time: the apartment. It was so different from the scattered desperation of the motel, or the sparse temporality of the warehouse. This place was so different, so… permanent.

Maura had changed too since the last time Jane had seen her in those frantic moments- she looked more like herself. There were still differences; there were dark circles under her eyes and her new hair colour was... not unsuited to her, but unfamiliar. It made her look like someone else. Her bangs had grown out and her hair was closer to its old length, but it was still a deep chocolate brown.

She was back to her full height, having adopted high heels again- but they were sleek black boots that reached almost to her knees. She wore black pants, a loose grey silk shirt, and a black jacket of carefully distressed leather. Her clothes and her demeanour had the richness of Maura about them; not like her on-the-run attire, in which she might blend in with any individual on the street. But she was lacking the colour and flair of Maura Isles- no splash of bright fuchsia in the fabric of her clothes, no chunky accessories, no pink lipstick. Her clothes, her hair, her eyes, were all dark.

Jane had the distinct impression that Maura had grown into her modified appearance; that she was adapting to her new life. And in that moment she knew that Maura was not coming home with her; she was settling in for the long-haul.

Her initial feelings of elation melted into misgivings. Maura saw her expression falter as she waited awkwardly for Jane to speak. When Danny- the bartender- had called up to tell her a tall dark haired woman was here to see her, her stomach had tied up into knots. She paced back and forth as she listened to the elevator making its interminably long trip upwards, twisting her ring nervously around her finger and taking measured breaths as she attempted to resolve the duel feelings of desperate relief and nervous anticipation.

But Jane's expression when she saw Maura, the joy that mirrored hers and then the way it changed as her eyes swept over her, taking in her appearance, filled Maura with foreboding. As they eyed each other uncertainly she felt the distance between them stretch out into empty space.

So Maura did what came most naturally when she felt off-kilter; she focused on the things she could control. She distanced herself and became objective. Observing the odd way Jane held one arm gingerly against her, she remembered with a jolt that it was due the shooting in the parking garage. She was surprised at herself for having forgotten even for a minute. The arm she had injured was no longer bandaged or in a sling but it couldn't have healed already, and Jane's posture indicated that it was giving her some discomfort.

"You're not wearing a sling."

Jane seemed surprised to hear Maura's voice cut through her thoughts and bridge the space between them. She glanced down at her arm, as if needing to check what might be the matter with it, and then remembering, shrugged with her good shoulder.

"Well I wasn't going to walk into an Irish mob bar displaying my physical weakness was I?"

Maura seemed to flinch a little at the description of their surroundings but she recovered quickly. "It's far too early for you to remove the support from your arm, Jane. The muscle is still healing. Did the surgeon use the Weaver-Dunn procedure?"

"He used the stitching-it-back-together procedure," Jane replied, somewhat incredulous that this was the first conversation they were having after being apart for so long.

"Let me take a look," Maura instructed, moving towards her and indicating a chair to her left.

Jane looked at her doubtfully. Maura stood much closer now, but still out of reach, her face a mask of professionalism. She acquiesced, slipping off her jacket and carefully removing her shirt sleeve so the doctor could get a better view of the healing tissue on her shoulder.

"Who operated on you, was it Dr. Sluckey?"

"Ew not of course not!" Jane wrinkled up her nose in disgust. "He was bad enough the first time around. 'How are we feeling today?' 'We seem to be in a bit of pain, how is our shoulder doing?' Ugh- your turtle has better bedside manner."

Maura seemed unphased at her outburst, but Jane didn't miss the twitch at the edge of her lips as she automatically corrected, "Tortoise."

"This is healing well," Maura pronounced. "The surgeon has done impressive work- there will be minimal scarring."

Jane couldn't resist.

"Oh thank god!" she responded in an exaggerated tone that was calculated to make Maura roll her eyes. "I would hate to have a scar- that would be so ugly and my skin is so perfect otherwise!" She flashed her scalpel-marked hands at her friend. "Oh and except for this one-" she lifted the bottom of her shirt to expose the place where a bullet had torn through her abdomen. "Oh and this one" she turned her head to highlight the place where Hoyt had sliced across her neck. "And this one-" she was leaning down to pull up her pant leg when Maura's laugh made her pause. She looked up to see the woman beaming down at her.

"Ok, Jane, point taken. I just thought you would appreciate some reassurance that you're on the mend. I know how agitated you can get when you have to give yourself time to heal."

"Me?" Jane feigned affronted wide-eyed shock, enjoying the way Maura smiled and shook her head in resignation.

"You're incorrigible."

"Yes, but we already knew that."

It was surprising how quickly they could fall back into mundane banter when there was so much more to be said, and yet the familiarity of it was a relief, and it eased some of the uncomfortable tension. The words were a cover; something to start the conversation while trying to figure out how to say what really needed to be said. Maura smiled and started to move away, and Jane felt a stab of panic as the tension began to fall again.

"Maur-" Jane said softly, reaching for her friend's hand before she could step too far back and add physical space to the distance between them. "I didn't come here for a check-up."

Maura stopped at the touch and looked down at Jane's fingers brushing against her own. She wanted so badly to return the touch. She had missed Jane. But she felt so ashamed of her recent actions, of the compromises she'd had to make. She wanted to keep Jane separate from all that. She wanted to keep Jane safe. But at the same time, with Jane here now, Maura realized how much she had needed to see her.

"You're ok?" Jane looked at her with an open face, big brown eyes.

Maura took her hand in her own and squeezed it. "I'm ok."

Jane held her gaze for a minute, giving Maura the opportunity to elaborate if she wanted to, but she did not.

"This place is…nice," Jane said finally. looking around the apartment.

"The decor is a bit… bachelor-pad for my taste," Maura pulled a face at the black leather sofas, deep red accessories and industrial furniture. "It was Paddy Doyle's. But it's an improvement on a storage room."

"You were staying at Steve MacAuley's warehouse."

Maura felt her heart rate increase in anticipation of the lies she might have to attempt. Of course the detective would have questions, and most of them Maura wouldn't be able to answer, either for Jane's safety or for her own. She chose her words carefully.

"Yes. It was only supposed to be temporary, but when it became clear that my situation wouldn't be resolved quickly, we began to look for other arrangements. The warehouse wasn't very secure. It was only a matter of time before someone came for me."

"You heard about the cop killing?"

The conversation was moving into dangerous territory. Maura couldn't lie, not to anyone but especially not to Jane. And if, in trying to avoid lying, she was too evasive, Jane would pick up on it right away. She carefully negotiated each question like she was performing a dance, giving out the information she could, in place of the answers that she couldn't.

"Yes, it's awful."

"The body was dumped outside the warehouse. We think Ferguson was trying to draw attention; trying to flush you out."

Maura shook her head. "He wants people to know that no one associated with me is safe. Not Paddy Doyle's people, and not even the authorities."

Ferguson hadn't killed the officer. But the men he had sent to torture and murder the FBI agent assigned to protect her had been calculated to send just that message. She'd heard it loud and clear, and responded in kind. She closed her eyes against the memory of Agent Forbes' broken body, and Sean Peter's desperate last gasps as she levelled a gun at his head.

"This is not your fault," Jane's fierce response cut through her thoughts. "You are not responsible for any of this. This is all Colin Ferguson. And we're gonna get him, Maura, I promise. He's gonna pay for what he's done."

Maura gave her a weak smile, hoping that Jane took her obvious discomfort as a reaction to her situation, and not from the half-truths she was having to tell about her role in the recent grizzly events.

Jane was choosing her words carefully too. Things were clearly escalating with Ferguson, and this was not a safe environment for Maura, whatever the woman might think. Jane needed to get her away from here, somewhere she could keep an eye on her.

"Maura, I want you to think about going back into protective custody."

"No." Maura response was emphatic. She dropped Jane's hand abruptly and crossed the room.

"Just hear me out-"

"No, Jane. There's no question. The authorities can't protect me."

"And you think these people can?" Jane gestured towards the elevator that lead back down to the bar, where Boston's criminal underworld sipped cold beers and smoked. "How do you know they won't turn on you? Why wouldn't they just turn you over to Ferguson and join him, if he makes their lives difficult enough? You can't trust them."

"I don't," Maura's tone was fierce. "But it's safer for everyone if I'm here. I saw what they did to Agent Forbes. I saw it, Jane. I won't put another officer at risk. I will not be responsible for any more bloodshed."

"Maura-"

"Listen," Maura softened her tone and moved closer. "I know my situation is precarious. I'm aware, Jane. But I'm ok. And I know that you're doing everything you can to stop Ferguson. And that's what I need you to focus on right now."

Jane tried a different tack. "What if you leave the state? Just temporarily. Isn't your mother in France? You could go visit her-"

"I'm not running, Jane. If I run, Ferguson will get exactly what he wants. At least with me here Paddy Doyle has a representative on the outside."

This announcement caused Jane to double-take. "Is that what you are now?"

Maura sighed, trying to decide how best to phrase this.

"If you're asking me am I working for him? No, I'm not. I haven't spoken to him, besides to ask for his assistance when I fled my safehouse. But I am a figurehead. I know it- people look to me as Paddy Doyle's daughter. And if I leave now, his influence goes with me. I didn't ask for this, but I mean something to these people. As long as I'm here, there's a tangible reason to resist Ferguson, however symbolic that is in reality. And I need to stay because of what will happen if Ferguson is allowed to take control unchallenged."

Jane was very quiet as she processed Maura's words. When she finally spoke, she did so carefully.

"If your presence here is really as important as you say, Ferguson isn't going to stop coming for you. He's going to wanna take you out, and in a public way- make a statement."

"Well as you can see, Jane, I'm staying out of the public."

"So he put a dead cop right outside your door. It's a threat, Maura. To you and to anyone working with you. How long do you think it's gonna take for one of those goons downstairs to think he'll cash in on Ferguson's good will by bringing him your head?"

How could she reassure Jane without confessing to how embroiled she had become in Paddy Doyle's affairs? The risks she'd taken, the laws she had broken? Sean Peters, the dead cop, the frame-up of Ferguson that was surely about to come to fruition. The way that the men downstairs had looked at her when she entered the bar- with respect, because she was Paddy Doyle's daughter, and because her reputation preceded her…

"Jane-" she looked earnestly into Jane's deep brown eyes. "I know. I know you're worried. But you need to trust me. You need to let me handle things this end because there's nothing you can do. You need to trust that I know what I'm doing. Just like I'm trusting you to solve this case without me."

Jane sucked in a sharp breath at that last comment. Because honestly, working the Ferguson clan murders without Maura- with Pike instead- had been torture. Trying to gather intel from the FBI had been like pulling teeth. Trying to map the status of the members Boston's crime families had been a painfully slow process that had sucked up most of her time. And the bodies were still piling up in the morgue. And she hadn't slept in over thirty six hours. But Maura was looking at her with those big earnest eyes, believing in her, needing her to be on form even though her shoulder was pounding, and her muscles ached, and her eyelids were heavy, and she felt about as off her game as she ever had.

"I just don't know what I would do if anything happened to you," she managed weakly.

Maura squeezed her arm and spoke with all the certainty and confidence she could muster. "Nothing is going to happen to me, Jane. I'm ok. Just focus on the things you can control."

They looked at each other for a long minute, as if suddenly realizing that this was the first- and perhaps last- opportunity they would have to be in each others company for a long time.

"But how are you?" Maura asked suddenly. Now that the pitfall-laden conversation had been successfully negotiated, she allowed her mind to go to all the questions she had for Jane. "And how is Angela? Is she still developing her line of baked goods? And how are Detective Korsak and Frost? Did Frankie ever get his motorcycle running properly?"

Jane looked at her incredulously, and couldn't help but grin. "Really? You want to know about my mother's attempts to sell her baking and my brother's bike troubles?"

"Yes! I've been out of everything for so long. It's been so isolating. So yes, Jane, I want to hear everything. Tell me everything that's happened in the last few months. I would love to hear about some normal, mundane, daily events."

"Ok…" Jane settled back into the sofa as Maura excitedly reoriented herself next to her friend, so as to get a better look at her and ensure she didn't miss a word. "Well, my mom has been nuts as usual. She's still baking but since Tommy paid off her debts she doesn't need to sell brownies to pay the IRS any more. She's actually been working overtime at the station- well, everyone is at the moment, with the crime rate going crazy. So she's made it her personal mission to make sure every cop gets a square meal. Oh but she was so mad the other day because she was at the station late instead of babysitting TJ, and he took his first steps."

Maura gasped. "TJ's walking?"

"Apparently! I haven't seen it yet but Tommy said he definitely gets like two full steps before he sortof falls the rest of the way into Lydia's arms."

"That's amazing! He's several months ahead of the average age. He must be quite developmentally advanced."

"Must be that African baby mask I gave to Lydia. Guaranteed to raise IQ. She's been playing peekaboo with it," Jane said with a smirk.

"But wouldn't that improve her cognitive development, if she's been the one wearing it?"

"Oh well in that case it's not working at all," Jane replied with an exaggerated frown. "TJ must just be benefiting from the Rizzoli genes. I was very advanced as a child you know."

"Oh really," Maura gave her friend and amused look.

"Mhmm, my first word was, 'unbelievable'. I was interrogating assumed reality from a very early age."

Maura relaxed into the sofa as Jane regaled her with tales of life at the precinct, with stories of normalcy and the life she'd left behind. She laughed at Jane's exaggerated impressions and colourful descriptions. She laughed until her cheeks hurt from smiling and her stomach muscles ached and she realised that it had been so long since she'd felt anything like this. And somewhere in the back of her mind she was sad at how unfamiliar joy had become, but she pushed it away to focus on the moment, on Jane, on being here with her closest friend in the world. She lay her head on Jane's shoulder, and brushed tears of laughter from her eyes, and sighed and smiled.

Maura didn't remember falling asleep, but as she leaned into Jane as they cozied up on the sofa, some of the heaviness in her brain lifted and she allowed herself to relax for the first time in a long time.

Jane finally noticed that Maura was no longer responding to her sardonic remarks and witty repartee, and, looking down, saw her friend was sleeping peacefully against her. Jane's own sleeplessness hovered over her as she stifled a yawn, allowing her head to rest against Maura's as she closed her eyes for just a minute. She should go soon- it was late, and this was not a good place for her to let her guard down. But she was so tired, and the familiar scent of Maura's hair was so reassuring. If she could just close her eyes for a minute…

A noise at the door caused Jane's head to jerk up. Steve stood in the doorway. He paused for a moment, seeing the two women curled up together on the sofa, noting the way Jane's arm contracted protectively around Maura as her sleep deprived eyes searched in the dark.

"She's asleep?" he said finally, and then to himself as much as to Jane, "Good."

He turned to leave, pausing as something occurred to him. "No one will bother you here," he informed her. "Stay if you like."

He closed the door behind him. Jane's heart was pounding as she rested her chin against Maura's head, vaguely thinking that she should leave, but not wanting to go without saying goodbye, and not wanting to wake her friend. She wrestled with her indecision for a moment before the adrenaline rush subsided and exhaustion reasserted itself. She closed her eyes again, leaning back into Maura and falling into a deep, troubled sleep.