AN: Hey guys...I'm back with this story that wouldn't leave me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rizzoli and Isles or make any money from this.

As Isaiah said, "Rejoice, O childless woman, you who have never given birth! Break into a joyful shout, you who have never been in labor! For the desolate woman now has more children than the woman who lives with her husband!"

The past three days had been trying at the very least. Four bodies had been thoroughly autopsied, crime scenes rigorously scanned, and all evidence examined. Still they had nothing. But that evening, that warm spring evening when Maura walked into her house, the only thing she could really complain about was the stillness of the habitation. It was dark and oh so quiet. When she turned on the lights, everything was exactly where she'd left it. For years Maura had found such comfort in stability and routine, in uniformity and order. But now, it wasn't so appealing.

Looking at her upbringing, she had never once imagined that work would be far more preferable than being in the comfort of her own home. It was almost suffocating now. The irony of it. She lived in a two-story four-bedroomed house. How can that ever be suffocating? But she felt it anyway. She wanted to be at work. It's not as if to say she was an outgoing person. No. Quite the contrary actually. But what she cherished most about work was 'fading into the background'.

People didn't normally initiate conversation with her, unless it was absolutely necessary. But they also never hesitated to go on about their business. In the morgue, Maura could work while her assistants and the rest of the lab staff chattered and laughed around her.

That was enough for her.

It wasn't much different from her upbringing. She'd be obligated to go to functions which she found no joy in, but would right away fade into the crowd and lose herself in her mind or a book while everything else happened around her.

It had been roughly a year now, since being in Boston and working at the Boston Police Department. She liked it there – at work. It was her home she didn't like. The balcony that extended from her upstairs bedroom, the glittering pool it over looked, the nicely trimmed yard, the two spare empty bedrooms, the yoga room, the Mercedes she could see from her office window, the expensively equipped kitchen. She didn't like any of it all.

It was a reminder of her failures.

Her FAILURE!

She didn't bother turning anything on as she headed up to her bedroom. A shower was the first order of business. All day she'd felt it, the stomach cramping and abdominal aches. So it came as no surprise when she pulled her knickers off and immediately noticed the red spotting. Her period.

Yet another reminder of how useless she was. It had been about a year and a half since she stopped trying. And every month, just like clockwork, her period came. And even though it was supposed to, even though she wasn't supposed to feel anger and hurt anymore – she still did. It never got better. Not with time, and not with anything else. It pained her to the core, her inability to have children.

Infecund -

(of a woman or female animal) having low or zero fecundity; unable to bear children or young.

Yes, she knew that definition all too well.

Years ago, when she'd landed her first job as a medical examiner and her parents had briefly expressed their joy at her success, the elder Isles' had asked her what she'd like as a gift. That was about the same time that she'd seriously decided that she would like to have a family of her own. She was through with just about all her 'major' schooling. She had a job she wanted and at least the right stability for a family. She had decided she would like to get married and have three children. Being an only child, having one was out of the question. It sucked and she didn't want any child of hers going through it, regardless of how doting she would be. And being adopted, she didn't want to raise a child who would always question her affection or where they came from. Maybe illogical conclusions to other people's minds, but being in her own shoes, she understood her reasoning and where she was coming from.

The house she now lives in is that exact one her parents had given her as a congratulatory present. How lovely a present it had been at the time, when Maura had so vividly pictured her spouse and their children residing in it. Now, it taunted her. Reminds her daily of how unachievable her goals were.

The gift of reproduction, that women were gifted with – she wasn't.

Now as she takes her shower, the minute hint of red drains down as she finishes off her washing.

Less than an hour later she found herself in the comfort of her king-sized. Years ago, she held ephemeral phone conversations with a few friends, acquaintances, or lovers before bed. But now, she can't be bothered.

When Maura had started at BPD she had thought for a fleeting second that she could be friends with Jane. At learning that she would work with a female detective, Maura thought it an excellent opportunity to strike a friendship. The Medical Examiner had researched on female detectives and even spied on a few. General consensus showed the job was less 'family-friendly', so with Jane Rizzoli being the only female around, the chances that she would be married with children were really low. Maura didn't like such leaps of speculation, but hope clouded her judgement. And that hope went flying out the window on only the second day at the job.

Perfect organisation had slipped her that afternoon. She'd forgotten to carry a bottle of water with her downstairs after lunch, so she had to dash to the precincts café to grab one.

''Settle down!'' she heard the lady who had been introduced to her as Angela Rizzoli bellow at two little girls.

''But Nana, she's sipping from my straw'' a girl, about six or seven Maura estimated, called back to Angela.

''Your mother isn't going to be happy when she gets back here'' a warning from Angela came, a little lower this time. ''Just share it won't you?''

''She has her own drink!'' the girl announced, looked absolutely flabbergasted at the prospect of having to share.

''Eva-Sienna Rizzoli, stop that this instant.'' The two girls promptly halted their bickering. Eva sunk back into her chair beside the other girl and started on her own drink.

Meanwhile, Maura was glued to her spot. It had been a while since being in such close proximity with children, her insides were twisting in knots and she was starting to feel some sweat accumulating in spots she didn't even want to mention to her mind. Yet for some reason, she just couldn't move and walk away. And it wasn't even about the water – she'd already forgotten about that.

It was the small girls. They were identical twins. Maura looked at them in awe, trying to spot all the minuscule differences between the two. From where she stood, there wasn't much she could pin-point to. Eva, as she had been called, was much rougher in how she handled herself and everything around her. She was jerky with her movements and loud and chatty. She appeared to be half playing a…..game, Maura presumed, on an Ipad, while her sister did some writing or colouring. Eva had her light brown hair in a ponytail, while her twin wore hers down. Because they had a uniform on, Catholic School Maura noted, their hairstyles were about the only way Maura could tell them apart.

''Here Kie, it's your turn,'' Eva passed the Ipad. Multi-tasking, Kie took the device and swiped around for about a minute before handing it back to her sister and resuming her writing.

''Woah Kie, that's awesome,'' Eva exclaimed. She took a few seconds to catalogue whatever moves her sister had effortlessly made before taking her turn to play.

And THAT was EXACTLY what Maura would have given a left arm and a leg for – for two reasons. One – having a sister. She would have been just mildly lost with a little luck. Just as she'd witnessed, if Eva was never there, Kie would never indulge in computer games it seems. She appeared more at home with her writing and colouring than with swiping around on gadgets. But thankfully she has a sister to keep her up to date with 'pop-culture' – something Maura could have done with. Two – having children. Maura had imagined these moments, when she'd lean against a door and privately watch her children. A silent moment when she'd learn them and fall in love all over again.

But now they were stolen moments, with other people's children and sisters.

It was sad.

''Mama!'' they said in unison when Jane emerged. Not that Maura needed any confirmation. It was obvious they were Detective Rizzoli's children. They were not slim and slender and tall like Jane. Their hair was dark brown but boy did their faces look like just like Jane's. Same nose, eyes, and cheek bones. They most likely got their 'fleshy' disposition from their Grandma who seemed to be making sure they eat, and their brown hair was most likely from their father.

''….can you believe it? Keira got to level eight. She doesn't even play the game most of the time,'' Eva rattled on. ''And I stole some sips from her drink,'' she chuckled unapologetically.

''I kept telling her to stop'' Keira, Maura learnt her full name was, said.

They chatted on, as Maura eventually backed away from the door. She'd had ONE conversation with Jane, and had no desire for anything more other than work henceforth. This was the sort of thing she ran away from. The last thing she wanted was befriending Jane and hearing all about her wonderful daughters and then being asked if she had kids, and why not, or whether she'd thought about. That was too painful a topic. She wouldn't willingly bring herself all that hurt.

Never!

It was hard to get friends now. Hard for different reasons than it was in her younger days. Back in the day when she was young, people would shy away from her because she was too rich, too smart, too beautiful, or too weird. But now, well for the past five years, she is the one that runs for the hills at any potential friendships.

After the failed fertility treatments, Maura gave up all hope of her own child. A sperm donor didn't work. Neither did an embryo or egg donor. IVF treatments took so much out of her. The screenings, and the diets, and the ovulation charts. It was all so emotionally draining. Three times, after using an embryo donor she had become pregnant, only to lose the foetus in three weeks at the longest. That was even worse than when there was no pregnancy at all.

The company of mothers absolutely killed her. She couldn't do it. The majority of people her age were falling pregnant and starting families. Those who wanted to, that is. Four years she'd tried, done everything she had been instructed – she was a doctor for goodness sake. But nothing worked. She didn't want to adopt, or foster, or go through surrogacy. She wanted to be pregnant, and feel the gift of life growing within her.

It wasn't meant for her it turned out.

And so she had locked herself up in her house for days. She'd wept endlessly, even prayed to the divine one. It was after a day she had broken down in the shopping mall after seeing a pregnant woman with three other children that she had called it quits. Life was too unfair. Other women got four while she couldn't even have one. So she had put an end to it and moved to Boston. Her body wasn't strong enough for all that treatment anymore, emotional strength had left her altogether.

She had accepted that she'd live a childless life, and would dissociate herself from all people with children, as illogical as it seemed. As it was so far, she was doing it anyway, and managing.

What she didn't know however, was that she would be faced with her worst fear soon – quite literally.