Author's Note: Sorry about the long delay. I had part of this done and the middle was just sticking. It's not my favorite chapter I've ever written, and my head is far too serious to do this fluff well.

For the life of her, Jane could not have told anyone why she decided to tell Maura she knew, while chickening out on telling Maura that, hey, she sometimes was into women as well. Well, no. She knew why she chickened out. First of all, Emily didn't really count as dating. Secondly, it would have made things really weird, when she knew Maura just needed a friend.

Jane suspected that was going to be the end of Lucy, though. Beyond the reaction to Jane's relationship with Maura, such as it was, Lucy suffered from ketosis. Maura noted she wasn't trying to be superficial, but the scent was a turn off. That had launched her into a dissertation about pheromones and sexual activity, which Jane had tuned out of.

And the annoying part was Frankie was right. Jane was jealous of Lucy, and pretty much everyone else who got to date Maura, and it was stupid.

The best way to deal with it was to not, and Jane called Cavanaugh, begging to come back to work early. When she broke down and asked him to let her do paperwork, he realized she was serious and let her back. Jane figured after her mother's outburst, she'd be ready to deal with work. She was wrong.

It started with Stanley: "Rizzoli, has your mother seen your hair!?"

"No, I was planning to surprise her. When does she get in?" asked Jane, as dryly as she could.

The elevator had Rafael, who opened his mouth once, "Woah."

Jane held up her index finger. "I'm armed."

No one had bothered to take her gun away, though Jane had no intention of using it until her ear was cleared. The doctor had warned her about loud noises causing it to re-rupture, and frankly, once was enough. Of course, Rafael didn't have to know that.

Rafael shrugged. "Good to have you back, Rizzoli," he said simply. "So, ah, you busy tomorrow night?"

What the hell? Jane turned to give him the stink eye. "If you're asking then yes, I'm very busy every night."

"Come on," groaned Rafael. The elevator opened and Jane stepped out, ignoring him. "Give me a chance." He held the elevator with one hand.

"Sorry, I'm busy washing my hair." She slapped his hand with a folder, and smirked as the door closed.

He still got the last word, saying "Funny!" as the door closed.

Turning around, Jane was not surprised to see the detectives staring at her. "Yes, I cut my hair, congratulations, you can all keep your gold badges."

The general laughter was comforting, and Jane dropped into her chair. It was better to be back here, where the heckling was obvious. The stack of folders on her desk was daunting, and she sighed. Okay, this was less better, but it was still better than moping around at home, so Jane applied herself to the work.

After the third person asked or commented about her hair, she started keeping a tally. Korsak was the fifteenth, showing up with lunch and her mother. "Wow, Angela, you weren't kidding. Looks good on you, Jane."

"Thank you," she gritted.

"Stop being so angry, honey." Angela put a hamburger down in front of Jane. "Fries?"

Jane blinked, "God yes." She reached out for the burger and took a huge bite. "Soooo good."

"You look happier to have that than a date," teased Korsak, putting his leg on an empty chair.

"Burger's better," Jane growled. "How's your foot?"

"Not broken." When Jane looked surprised, he explained, "I know, I thought it was too, but the x-ray was goofed by the swelling. Just a sprain."

"Tell Maura, she'll have a field day with that one. Frankie's got a black eye." And Jane explained about the shoe hitting his face, which Korsak found as funny as she did.

"When you're done talking about your brother, how about you eat the salad too."

"I knew the burger was too good to be true," smiled Jane, giving Korsak a wink. She did obediently take a bite of the salad, however. There was only so much you could push your mother. "How is Frankie, Ma?"

"He's fine. He said he's sorry."

Oh. Jane looked at the salad, feeling her stomach turn. "I'll call him later," she muttered, shoving more food in her face to avoid having to answer any further.

"You kids are always fighting," sighed Angela, ruffling Jane's hair.

Jane swatted her mother's hands. "Come on, stop it."

But Angela was looking fondly at her, which was rare enough these days. "I like the hair. It's growing on me."

"It's growing on Janie," joked Korsak.

"You're very funny, have you guys thought about trying a comedy routine?" Jane shook her head roughly, as if she could still flip her hair back into place, and then inhaled the rest of her salad before capping it off with the burger. While she ate, her mother kept glancing at the door to Cavanaugh's office and Jane wished she had one of those telecommuting jobs, so she could avoid the mess with those two.

Adult problems were so much messier and complicated, but childhood woes hurt more. Kind of. Breaking up with Emily, such as that was, hurt a hell of a lot more than the crap with Casey. At least Maura had worn a smile of vindictive joy when she'd helped Jane insure the ring for shipping to Casey's family in Australia. In a moment of cowardice, Jane put Casey's name and base address on the return information, leaving herself out of the situation. And god knew breaking up with Dean was easy. Sex, betrayal, done. He made it easy. Maybe if he came back she could teach Jo Friday to pee on him.

But thanks to stupid Frankie, she'd been thinking about Emily all night, and how that had been a bajillion kinds of awkward and painful. It didn't make sense then, and it really didn't now either. Jane recalled her mother telling her something freakishly accurate after Jane had moped around the house for days afterwards.

"What're you thinking so hard about," asked Angela quietly.

"Young hearts are fragile." Crap. Why did your mouth just say stuff without your brain asking for permission?

Angela startled, "Well, all hearts are fragile Janie. Is … everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Case." Jane waved a hand at the stack that had been dumped on her. "Kids. I'm remembering why I'm not in juvie." Angela looked pained and like she wanted to hug Jane again. With a warning look, Jane went on, "At least our deer urine smuggler case is over."

Korsak laughed, "I had to burn my suit! Can you believe that?"

"The hospital burned Frankie's for him. His hair still smelled—" Angela paused and looked at Jane, realization dawning. "That's what happened!"

Jane rolled her eyes. "Yes, ma, that's exactly what happened."

"Wonder why I didn't have that problem," muttered Korsak.

It was a cue for Maura to waltz in and start explaining. "It has to do with the dermal absorption rates, and the—"

"Lipids in the source and blah blah science, yeah, we went over that in the shower, Maura. Hi." With only her salad and fries left, Jane smiled and realized she looked like a healthier eater.

Maura, on the other hand, looked put out that Jane cut her off. "You're feeling better," she noted, sitting on the edge of Jane's desk and stealing some fries.

"I like being back at work."

Korsak snorted, "You hate paperwork, Jane."

"Better than staying at home reading and watching the home shopping network," retorted Jane. "Besides, I'm up to fifteen people who can't believe I cut my hair. If I hit twenty, I'm going out for beers."

Of course Maura looked pleased. "I told you. It looks amazing." Her hands twitched and Jane shot her best friend a quelling look. No hands in hair at work, please and thank you. Chagrined, Maura took another fry. "Fifteen?"

"Korsak included. Rafael asked me out."

Angela looked offended, "You said no, right?"

Jane scowled at her mother, "That's what you're asking?" She shook her head. "We should go back to that french place, Maura!"

"Which one?"

"The truck one."

Wrinkling her face in concentration, Maura asked, "Le Beau Truc?" As Jane nodded, Maura looked more confused, "Why would we— Oh." They shared a look, both smiling slightly differently. Jane was grinning, amused, and Maura was trying very hard to look nonplussed. "That would certainly add to your numbers."

Not that Jane was all that keen on Maura getting asked out by even more people, but Frankie did have a small point. Liking people was so complicated, and while Jane would never put a label on things, least of all Maura or herself, she had to admit to a good point. She did like Maura. Now what?

Korsak scowled. "What are you two talkin' about?" He didn't sound annoyed, just mildly frustrated.

"Dinner," smiled Jane, pleased that Maura had followed along at least. "Whaddaya say, Maura? Friday after work?"

"I have a date." When Jane tilted her head, Maura nodded. Ah, so Lucy had another shot. "Okay, later. Whenever. Though we should probably meet..." After a moment, Maura agreed to that, but quickly made her exit with Angela and the dirty dishes.

Once the women were gone, Kosak leaned over and hissed. "What's up with that? You never like anyone the Doc's dating."

"New 'do, new leaf, Korsak," sighed Jane, and she went back to the paperwork.

Willing to enjoy someone else cooking for a change, Maura agreed to come over to Jane's for dinner on Saturday to lament about their love lives. It had been too late to consider a meal out at a nice restaurant, and Jane had actually offered to cook, which left Maura free to complain. "And then she said she didn't want me to be friends like that with you, it made her feel like a third wheel. So that's that."

Everything had gone terribly downhill when, per Jane's suggestion, Maura asked Lucy if she'd like to meet Jane. In fact, Maura had never had anyone hightail it out of her presence quite like that before. She was quite a bit miffed, honestly.

"Good," replied Jane, hanging the last of the fresh pasta to dry.

"Good?" Maura folded her arms across her chest.

"I didn't like her. She was too needy."

There it was again. Jane never liked anyone Maura had dated. "When," sighed Maura, "in the history of ever, have you approved of someone I've dated?"

Jane pulled the tray of meatballs out of her fridge. "Uh, okay, that's not fair," she protested, and added the meatballs to the frying pan. "I haven't met all of them." The dig was pointed, and not very nice.

"You never met Lucy."

"Did too," objected Jane. "Week before The Hair Incident. Her car stalled on your driveway, I gave her a jump."

Maura stared at her friend. If Jane had met, and interacted with, Lucy, then she'd known all this time that there was something going on. Worse, she knew Lucy had spent the night! "Jane Rizzoli, did you sabotage my date?"

"What? No! God, no, why would I?" Under her breath, though, Jane muttered what sounded like "You do that pretty good on your own."

And Maura was livid. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"Hello! Pot, kettle?" Jane snorted in derision, but a sudden smile broke across her face. "Pansexual?" Then she snorted a laugh. "Pot, kettle, pan!"

While Maura was still irate, the look of irrational humor on Jane's face was infectious. "It's not funny."

"Yes, yes it totally is hilarious." Jane pressed her lips together, but the giggles had won and she was outright laughing. Much of Maura wanted to keep yelling at Jane, but the fact was that is was humorous. As Jane stopped laughing quite so hard, Maura's lips quirked. They shared a look and Maura's defensive wall fell down and she chuckled. "See?" Pointing with her wooden spoon, Jane laughed so hard she snorted.

And that sent Maura over the edge from chuckles to actual laughs. "I needed that," she admitted to Jane, a little begrudgingly.

"We both did," agreed Jane, wiping her eyes. "I am sorry about that, Maura," she added, sounding sincere.

Maura sighed, "I do have to wonder, how needy can someone be with a stalled car?"

Jane rolled her eyes, "Do you really want to know?"

After a moment, Maura shook her head and poured two glasses of wine, "No I don't think I do." She hesitated, "Are you done with antibiotics?"

"Yep! Healthy and I can go back to the range." Jane reached over to grab the wine glass and took a healthy swallow.

Of course Maura sipped a little (a lot) more decorously. "I hope you'll wear earplugs as well as the …" She paused and gestured over one ear. "Ear protectors?"

"Oh hell yes. I do not want to deal with this again." She put the glass down to stir and roll the meatballs. "The hair's okay, though," added Jane, glancing almost shyly at Maura.

What was up with that? Maura arched her eyebrows, but no further explanation was forthcoming. "It does look amazing," she noted. It looked downright stunning.

"You were right."

"Are you certain they cleared you for head injuries?"

Jane snapped her head up and saw Maura's faux-innocent expression. "Funny. Funny, I remember when you didn't do jokes."

"I remember when you thought Dean was a good idea."

"So did you!" They both laughed.

Maura sighed and sipped her wine again. She'd brought the bottle over once Jane explained what she'd be cooking. "Why can't we find nice people who like us and each other?"

"Because if they do, they'll always want a threesome," suggested Jane, frowning. "And no."

Of course no. Of course Jane wouldn't consider that other option. "Well, it is always an option."

"Ah, come on, Maura! If I was sleeping with you, I would not be willing to share."

Maura stared. What? If she was Jane, she'd have asked 'What the what?' but, being Maura, she had to simply swallow her surprise. "That's flattering," she murmured softly.

And Jane was looking away from Maura. Keeping something to herself in a way Maura couldn't read. It was always hard, reading Jane, even on the best day. The haircut, sexy as it was, seemed to make that even more complicated and problematic. What she really wanted to know was just what Jane was thinking.

When Jane didn't say anything for a while, Maura decided to ask around the problem. "How's Frankie?"

Jane groaned. "I don't want to talk about my brother. He's being a jerk." She tossed the pasta into the water with a little more vehemence than one might expect. The water splashed out and Jane jerked her hand back.

"Are you alright?" Maura stood up and walked around the island to take Jane's hand.

"Yeah it's fine, will you stir that?" Wriggling her hand out of Maura's, Jane looked at the back of her hand.

Maura picked up the ladle and stirred. "Run it under cold water, Jane."

"It's fine," repeated Jane, not angry or defensive. Maura expected a sort of grudging snap from her friend and glanced over. "It didn't… It's fine, okay?" She held her hand up, showing not even a red mark on it.

"You're a big baby," teased Maura, rolling her eyes. "Nothing's wrong and you jump back like you were scalded."

Jane sighed. "I really don't care," she started. "No, I do care." She glanced at Maura and sighed. "This sucks. Why does it suck so much?"

"Considering I don't know what we're talking about, I really don't have a comprehensive answer for that, Jane." When Jane made a grunt of annoyance, Maura smiled. "Is this about why you're fighting with Frankie?"

"Ugh, is it that obvious?" Jane picked up her wine and sipped it. "Yes."

Maura smiled. Excellent. This was progress. "And why are you fighting with Frankie? He apologized when he went home the other day."

"Jerk," muttered Jane. "Not you, him." She leaned over Maura's shoulder. "Pasta's done. Come on."

Bumping Maura out of the way with her hip, Jane took over the pasta and quickly served up homemade spaghetti and meatballs. She seemed disinclined to talk about whatever sucked, which put the burden of their dinner conversation on Maura. When Maura delved into an explanation that this wasn't really spaghetti, Jane just smiled and listened, her head down.

"I wish I could lie," she sighed at length, and Jane looked up.

"Well that's outta left field, Maura."

"I mean, if I could lie, I'd make up a story about how spaghetti and meatballs were actually invented by an Irish American entrepreneur in the 1800s, who upon failing in his business as a butcher, decided to take the end cuts of meat, grind them up into balls, and serve them fried. But that didn't sell well until the daughter of a neighboring Italian bought them for her pasta one day, and everyone wanted to try this new food. So the two went into business and married and lived happily ever after."

"That's a nice story," laughed Jane. "But it was Italian Americans in the early 20th century." Maura stuck her tongue out at Jane. "Lying doesn't make anything easier, but you could just pretend you were telling a story."

Maura sighed, "Oh, I suppose. It doesn't work, though. I was trying to see if you were paying attention."

That changed the smile on Jane's face to a softer one. "I'm always listening and paying attention to you, Maura. Even when I don't understand half the things you're saying."

"The feeling's mutual, detective." Maura raised her glass and they clinked. "So what sucks?"

Jane wrinkled her face. "That word sounds wrong when you say it."

"Sucks?"

"Yeah, it's too … weird. You should say something grander."

"Hmm, no," smiled Maura, pleased to have found something that engaged Jane in a more normal conversation. "Sucks. Bummer. Totally lame, which is actually offensive by the way."

Now Jane rolled her eyes. "Frankie sucks because he told me he spied on me making out with— someone. A while ago. A long while ago."

The brief hesitation was not lost on Maura. "If it was a long time ago, why does it bother you now?"

"Because he's making me think about other stuff." Jane poked at a meatball. "If I told you I didn't want to date men anymore, what would you do?"

Maura pursed her lips. "Make sure my evenings were free, I suppose."

"Really, Maura?" Jane groaned. "Come on, seriously."

"I am serious!" Maura was indignant. "If you stop dating, then you'll be over at my place every night, probably complaining about your lack of dates for the first few months. Then you'd complain about any date I had, so I'd just not go on those."

Jane looked impressed, "Until when?"

"Until when would I date? Oh. When you were ready, I suppose."

Making a noise, Jane looked down at her pasta. "Remember my friend Emily?" Maura paused, mouth full of pasta, and then remembered Giovanni and made a gesture with her hands. "Yeah, the one with the boobs," smirked Jane. "When we were thirteen, we made out in her treehouse."

Oh.

Oh.

Maura knew she was not blessed with the best poker face, and while she tried very hard not to let the myriad expressions of her feelings cross her face, she knew it was in vain. "Oh," she said softly, looking at Jane. Many conversations made sense now, in a different way. The awkwardness of Jane staying at Maura's was explained. For two weeks, Jane had known with certainty that Maura dated women sometimes.

And Jane, watching Maura's facial expressions, just sighed. "Yeah, good, we're on the same page."

"You were thirteen," Maura suggested gently.

Jane scoffed, "Yeaaaah, I keep telling myself that." She swirled some pasta around her fork. "Frankie's theory is that I don't like any of your dates because I'm jealous."

"Oh," said Maura again, feeling a little surprised. "Are you?" And of what, exactly, was she jealous?

At first, Jane just made a face. "Yes. I hate them. Even, no, especially ones like Ian, who just float in and break your heart. And my brothers."

Maura felt her face turn red. Speaking of her brothers "Frankie kissed me," she said softly.

"Yeah, I know," sighed Jane. She'd wanted Frankie to crawl in a hole and die for a week or so after he confessed that little tidbit. "But you just wanted to be friends."

"Misplaced affection, actually." Maura picked up and put down her wine glass. "I really don't know what you're trying to say, Jane." That was mostly true. Maura had a feeling that this entire strange dance, reading those books at Maura's, being nice about the date, maybe even suggesting that they all meet, was Jane's round-about way of telling Maura she liked her. It would be easier if she dunked Maura's pigtails in ink or something.

Jane took a deep breath, "It's not just a haircut."

"I'm sorry… what?" Maura laughed her confusion, but somehow felt infinitely better.

"I mean, it is just a haircut, but it's not just that I got a haircut. I'm jealous of all your boyfriends, and girlfriends, GOD, am I jealous. I don't like them because— Because they're not me."

Maura pursed her lips again and leaned back in the chair. Well now. That was a confession. She smiled slowly. "Jane, do you know what the difference is between them and you?"

Waving a hand angrily, Jane grumbled, "They've seen you naked in a fun way."

"They asked me out."

The hand wave became a finger, pointing at Jane. "Why do I have to do it? I don't want to have to do all this." She was whining.

"I seem to recall you saying you would be the, ah, guy in our relationship."

Jane narrowed her eyes at Maura. "Don't be so heteronormative, Maura."

Laughing at the word, Maura picked up the wine and refilled their glasses. "I'm sorry, you're right."

"What was that?" Jane smiled in delight. "I was what?"

"You, Jane Rizzoli, were right. I made assumptions and acted on them, instead of engaging in a scientific evaluation of my hypothesis. To whit, Jane Rizzoli is not exclusively heterosexual. Point made." Maura held up her glass. "The question of if you're into me has also been answered."

Jane looked a little confused, but picked up her glass. "I'm putting myself out there, Maura. And … If I just killed sleepovers, I understand."

Smiling, Maura shook her head. "You did not." Jane's mouth made an 'oh' shape, but she didn't speak. "Your haircut makes you look absolutely stunning. But I'm afraid I've had feeling for you for far longer, Jane."

They shared a look of both embarrassment and delight. "We're the worst detectives ever," decided Jane, reaching over to tink her glass to Maura's.

"Technically," corrected Maura, "I'm a medical examiner." Jane opened her mouth to sling a reply at Maura, but she went on. "I've just broken up with someone, and it would be a little rude to use you as a rebound Jane."

That shut Jane up for a moment. "Okay, that's… I don't agree, but yeah, okay, that makes sense." She sipped the wine. "Casual dates. Like this?"

Maura thought about that for a moment. "They would be distressingly awkward, you know."

"You think?" Jane smiled. "Real dates end in kissing."

"Getting a little ahead of yourself, there, Jane," smiled Maura. "We haven't even established a date yet." She turned her shoulder a little, feeling at ease in her own skin now. Joking with Jane and flirting with Jane were comfortable.

Now Jane leant back in her chair, smirking. "I think you should ask me out, since I've already done the hard work here." Maura protested, but Jane explained, "I figured out about you, and I outed you to us, and I just told you that I like women too, or at least you, so at this point, you need to do some of the heavy lifting!"

She had a point, Maura had to agree. "Fine. Would you like to go out to dinner next week?"

"Is that enough time to get over Lucy?"

There was only one possible answer here, and Maura smiled. "Lucy who?"

Jane smiled, abruptly shyly, and nodded. "Well. Yes. But you're going to have to help me with one thing."

"Anything."

"What the hell do you wear with short hair, when you want to totally impress this hot doctor you're going on a date with?"

Maura tossed her head back and laughed, "Jane Rizzoli. It's just a haircut."