Author Notes: Here I am with another one! Don't worry, I'm still working on Rewind. Inspiration hit and I felt the need to start this one. I'm hoping it'll be lighter than my usual angsty stories (no promises, because things can change) and whilst I can't promise Jane/Maura will be a thing, it is a plan that eventually that should happen. I have a busy week, so it's going to be hit and miss by way of updates - but I should be back in action properly by Friday.

The baby wriggled in the woman's arms. She swaddled him in the blanket. The baby kicked his chubby feet and she lost a leg, tucking the blanket back over it, before he forced out of the swaddle once again. The woman wiped at her cheeks, rubbing the tears from her skin.

"I know this must be difficult for you," Jane said. She leaned forwards, her elbows on her knees.

"Difficult?"

The woman stared into her eyes. Fire burned beneath the surface. Jane braced herself for the backlash to her words. She'd used the same phrase time and time again. Sometimes it worked, other times it failed miserably.

"My newborn has no father," she said. The earlier attempt to clear the tears did very little for the fresh outpouring. "He is six days old. He doesn't even have a name. I have barely had any sleep since I had a very traumatic eighteen hour labour, and a birth that nearly resulted in my hospitalisation. Now you're telling me my husband has been murdered. You do not understand the meaning of the word difficult."

Lowering her gaze, Jane remained silent. She accepted her misplaced words, though she didn't desire the argument that would likely follow if she attempted to mend the situation. The fact of the matter was very clear.

She didn't understand. She probably never would.

The woman stood, her son still wriggling out of his blanket. She towered over her. Jane felt herself become smaller, insignificant, in the moment. Before she could glance up to the woman, she felt the heavy lump of baby land in her arms.

The door closed.

Jane lifted her head, confusion pulled her eyebrows together. The baby, in his new and unfamiliar surroundings, squawked and kicked, his lungs fought against the air surrounding them. Jane rocked him back and forth, but his lungs were strong and his worries real. She lifted him against her shoulder and rubbed his back.

"Excuse me?" she shouted, through the baby's cries, hoping his mother would be stood on the other side of the door, waiting to complete some form of punishment.

When the door stayed closed, and nobody came to relieve her of her new task, Jane felt her shoulders drop. Not only did she have the murder of a younger father to solve, she now had to do something about his son's abandonment. The Safe Haven law meant she couldn't prosecute the mother, providing she opted not to return, but putting the child in foster care was a last resort she didn't really want to consider.

x

The baby's cries rang out through Boston Police Department's homicide division. Jane rocked the baby back and forth, to no avail. She switched it up and placed him on her shoulder, moving across the room. But the baby wouldn't stop.

"Korsak, do something," she said, but he just shrugged his shoulders. "Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I'm any good at this."

"Didn't say it did," Korsak said.

"Then why won't you help me?"

"Because somebody needs to solve his father's murder and the mother handed the baby to you. I've got uniform trying to track her down."

Frankie entered the room, his nose in the air and his eyes squinting. He moved closer to Jane. "You stink."

"Here, take him," Jane said, pushing the baby into his arms. Frankie pushed him back into Jane's and she accepted him ungratefully. "I need a bathroom break."

"Korsak and I are going to speak to the father's employers."

"What do I do with the baby?" she asked, still jiggling him about.

"Smells like he needs a diaper change."

"We don't have any diapers."

Frankie shrugged his shoulders and backed out of the room, Korsak on his tail. Jane turned around, searching for someone to help but everyone was averting her gaze. She let out a groan, which only sought to upset the baby further. She carried him out of the office toward the elevator. Taking it down to the basement, she entered the lab.

"Take him," Jane said, thrusting the baby into Maura's arms and walking across the room. She shook her arms out, her muscles ached from the constant weight in her arms.

"Hello," Maura said, running a finger across the crying baby's cheek. "Jane, what is going on? Who is this baby?"

"He was left here," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "His father is the victim, his mother just handed him to me and left."

"Have you contacted the Department of Children and Families?"

"No." She sighed. The Safe Haven procedure flooded back and she pulled out her cell phone. The baby continued to scream. Maura carried him out of the lab and into her office. Jane trailed behind. "Can you do something about the screaming?"

"He needs a diaper change."

"I know." Jane rolled her eyes. "I can smell it."

"Where is his diaper bag?"

"He doesn't have one. His mom just walked away without the baby. I don't think she was really thinking about how we would look after him once she was gone."

"Okay," Maura said, carrying the baby towards the autopsy room.

"Where are you going?"

"To change his diaper."

"In the autopsy room? Are you trying to scare the kid?"

Maura raised an eyebrow. "There are no bodies in there at the moment. It's the most sterile environment, and the most suitable location to change his diaper. You call the DCF and I'll sort out our little problem."

"Little?" Jane asked, scowling. She placed her phone against her ear.

x

"Incy Wincy Spider went up the water spout, down came the rain and washing poor Incy out, out came the sun and dried up all the rain, Incy Wincy spider went up the spout again."

Jane rushed into the office with a couple of bags. She placed them down on the couch and stared at Maura. Maura turned to face her, and just stared back.

"What?" Jane asked.

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"You were singing."

"Do you have a problem with my singing to the baby?"

"No," Jane said. "But he's not even a week old, I don't think he understands."

"Very early on babies recognise faces and gestures, even newborns have been known to imitate their parents. He's learning with everything that happens around him. Music can help to stimulate the development of his hearing."

"Great. Now he's done some of that, I got some diapers, formula, some bottles, and a cute little teddy bear," Jane said, pulling a cream coloured bear out of the bag. "I also got another outfit for him. I remember when TJ stayed with us we went through about four tops in a couple hours."

Maura picked up one of the bags. "Watch him while I make up a bottle?"

She carried the bag out of the office and down to the Medical Examiner's Office kitchenette. Filling the sink with boiling hot water from the kettle, she sterilised the equipment. In an ideal world, she'd have used something more geared towards babies, but given the limited resources it would have to be sufficient.

"Maura, he's started crying again," Jane shouted, carrying the baby into the room.

"Would you like to make the formula?" Maura asked, holding her arms out.

"Will it take long?"

"It'll be a few minutes.

"I'm okay," Jane said, cradling the baby's head with her arm and resting him up against her shoulder.

Maura scooped the sterilised bottle out of the water and started preparing the formula. She watched as the baby cried out against Jane's shoulder, his little mouth opening and closing. Jane lowered her face to his head, and though Maura expected she didn't realise she was being watched, took in a long, deep breath. The corners of her mouth tugged. She'd done the very same thing earlier.

"Here," Maura said, testing the bottle's temperature. She handed it to Jane, and they walked back through to the office.

She sat down at her desk. The baby's father's autopsy was overdue, something that played on her mind. She didn't like to leave evidence gathering if she could help it, but his son was equally important. More so, considering he was alive. She opened up her laptop in an attempt to begin preliminary paperwork, but her eyes travelled over it to Jane and the baby.

"You need to eat it all up," Jane said, her attention focused entirely on the baby. "So that you grow up big and strong. I know it's gonna be tough growing up without your daddy, but you're gonna be alright. The DCF are going to take good care of you while your mamma's struggling. Then maybe you'll get to go home."

"You're good with him," Maura said. She closed her laptop. Work could wait. She stood up and walked around her desk. "He likes you."

"He likes the milk," Jane said, rolling her eyes. The nipple of the bottle slipped out of his mouth. He wriggled, his little legs kicking against the swaddle, grizzly noises escaping his mouth. Jane pushed the nipple back towards his tiny pink lips. "Oh dear."

"Did the DCF say when they'd be here?"

"As soon as possible," Jane said. "Could be half an hour, could be two hours."

x

Two and a half hours later, a woman walked into the office with a file in hand and a soft expression on her face. She stood in the doorway and waited for Jane and Maura's attention to turn to her.

"Hi," Jane said, wiping her drool covered hands on the sides of her slacks and sticking a hand out to her. "I'm Detective Rizzoli, you must be Silver Heyes?"

"It's nice to meet you, Detective Rizzoli," Silver said, grasping her hand and giving it a shake.

"This is Doctor Isles," Jane said, holding a hand out to Maura, who carried the baby in her arms.

"I see the two of you have done a good job with the little one," Silver said. "He doesn't have a name, correct?"

"We nicknamed him Billy," Jane said.

Silver Heyes opened her file and removed a document. She handed it over to Jane. "I'm going to need you to sign this, just to confirm what we discussed on the phone, and to officially hand care over to the DCF."

"Detective Korsak has sent uniformed officers to track down the mother," Jane said, leaning against her knee to sign the papers. "Will Billy be able to go home?"

She smiled, and sighed. "That depends on what happens next. Ideally we'd prefer he return to his mother. Under the circumstances, it might be more appropriate for him to remain in temporary foster care until she's capable of looking after him."

"Here," Jane said, handing over the document.

"He's a pleasure," Maura said, holding the baby out to Silver. Carefully settling him into her arms, she stepped back and retrieved the bag of items they'd purchased. "He seems to enjoy Incy Wincy Spider. He had a bottle of formula a few hours ago, he's due some more soon. We've been unable to identify any major issues. He's cried a lot, but I think that's understandable considering he's in a new environment with new people."

"Thank you," Silver said, looking down at the baby. "I think it's time we took you to somewhere a little less…clinical."

Stepping forwards, Jane rested a hand across Billy's forehead. She lowered her lips down to his cheek. "Bye, Billy."

"Goodbye," Maura whispered, reaching out to his tiny fingers, which quickly wrapped around her thumb. She kissed him briefly on the nose and untangled her hand.

"Can we get an update?" Jane asked. "We're working on his father's case. I'd like to know that he's okay."

"I'll call you tomorrow," Silver said.

"Thank you."

She carried Billy out into the corridor. Maura and Jane moved toward the doorway and watched as she waited by the elevator. When Silver stepped through the open door, Jane held up a hand, waving goodbye, before they disappeared from sight.

"Drink?" Jane asked.

x

"I've cancelled the party." Maura sat opposite Jane, circling a finger across the top of her wine glass.

Jane looked up from her beer. "What? Why?"

"I don't want a party anymore," Maura said.

"But Maura, you've talked about it for months." Jane pushed her beer to one side and leaned forward. "You only turn forty once."

"I know; I've changed my mind."

Silence fell between them. A comfortable atmosphere that only sought to remind Maura how much she valued Jane's friendship. They could drink in silence, no words exchanged for hours, and it would feel exactly the same.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

She didn't much want to dwell on her decision, and no amount of conversation was going to change it.

"Just because you can lie now doesn't make it okay to," Jane said. Her observation brought a smile to her face. "You're not fine."

"Okay." Maura's smile faded. "I'm not fine."

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"Nothing...or something."

"Something of nothing."

"What does that even mean?"

"To make something out of nothing," Maura said. "Meaning it is not important. It has come out of nowhere and there is absolutely nothing that I can do about it. I need some time to get past it. Then I will be fine."

Jane raised an eyebrow and reached for her beer. "A very wise woman once told me that you can do anything you put your mind to."

"Unfortunately, that doesn't apply in this situation."

Maura turned her attention once more to her glass of wine. She circled the glass with her finger, ran her finger and thumb up and down the stem. Distractions brought a wonderful element of comfort.

"How about you let me be the judge of that?" Jane asked.

"Jane," Maura said, staring into her eyes. She longed to move on to another topic of conversation, yet the way Jane stared back was enough to pull it all out of her.

"Maura."

That one brief word, her name on Jane's lips, the tone of her voice. Maura's resolve slowly disappeared and she was left feeling quite naked.

"I thought I was okay," she said. "I decided after Jack moved away that I would be happy without a partner, that I was okay not having children."

"Is this because of Billy?"

"In part." Maura sipped her wine, allowing the liquid to swirl around her mouth, latching on to her taste buds before she finally swallowed. "I'm forty in two days, Jane. My body clock is reaching a critical stage. There is very little chance that I will bring a child into this world. I'm not married, I don't have a boyfriend. Unless I meet someone tomorrow and get pregnant right away, I need to accept that I will continue to live the rest of my years childless, and alone."

"You're not alone." Fingers danced across Maura's knuckles. She stared down at Jane's hand wrapped around hers and she felt the truth in her words. "You're never alone."

"I know," she said, lowering her head. "I am thankful for that each and every day."

Another silence fell between them. Maura picked up her wine glass and turned it round, watching the wine spin, creating a small vortex.

"You want a kid?" Jane asked.

She placed the glass back down on the table and waited for the liquid to calm. She raised her head, her eyes fixed on Jane's. "I do."

"Then why not have one?"

The simplicity of Jane's question made Maura laugh. Her mouth tugged at the corners, stretching up to her eyes. She could feel the creases forming, could sense the permanence of her years of enjoyment. As a scientist, she longed for the more simplistic thought process that Jane carried about certain things. She knew the science. She knew the probability of conceiving a child after forty. She was all too aware of the medical interventions she didn't know she wanted to explore.

"Jane." She paused, sighed, retrieve her hand. "As I have explained, I'm a single woman with no chance of finding someone to have a child with. Even if I met someone today, by the time we have reached an appropriate stage in our relationship to even consider children, it will be too late."

Jane shrugged. "You don't need a man."

Maura picked up her glass of wine and swallowed a mouthful. Once again Jane's simplicity hit her, only she wasn't laughing. She didn't really know what to think, or feel. The idea that she, a professional woman with an expanse of knowledge about science, couldn't even see a basic possibility.

The crease between her eyebrows deepened. "I don't?"

"You've told me yourself about the medical advances we've made," Jane said. "How single, and particularly older, women, are finding alternative ways to have children."

"You remembered that?" Maura asked, recalling the exact conversation. The possibilities for older, and single, women were something she had read about in a medical journal. But for some reason she had yet to consider them as something possible for her.

"Of course I remembered it," Jane said. "I do listen to you."

"So, you're proposing that I visit a sperm bank and have a child alone?" Maura swallowed another mouthful of wine. She felt her hands start to shake. The very possibility of there being a practical solution to her worries made it all the more frightening. "Whilst I appreciate your consideration, raising a child is an awful lot of work. I don't think I'd want to do it alone."

"You're not alone. I'd help."

Brown eyes, so fixed on Maura's, so seriously set. The proposition laid out between them was one Maura had expected the least. She stared back, focused her attention on the very slight changes in Jane's pupils. Dilated. Her interest was not a passing phase.

Maura cleared her throat and downed the rest of her drink. "You...want to raise a child with me?"

"Sure."

The nonchalance unsettled Maura the most. She placed her hands into her lap under the table, the continuous shake of her fingers was not something she wished to share. Jane stared at her. Attempting to get her head around the concept of bringing a child into the world without a partner was challenging. Now she was faced with something completely unexpected.

Reality pulled her back into the room, her thoughts drifted to the possible results of said proposition. If she was to become a mother and have Jane's help, she couldn't be too sure how long that would be for.

"What if you meet someone and choose to have a family of your own?"

"Let's be honest, Maura. I'm no spring chicken either." Honesty lingered in her eyes. Maura valued the moments when Jane opened herself up to her vulnerabilities. The truest privilege of being Jane's friend. "My birthday's a few months away. Do you really expect me to be able to do what you haven't in a few months?"

"You do have a habit of driving men away," Maura said, regretting it instantly. Offending your friend was not the way to keep them on side.

"Thanks, Maura," Jane said, but the curve of her lips settled Maura's concerns. "We could do it together."

She sat upright, reclaimed her still trembling fingers from under the table and rested one on top of the other on the table in front of her. "You want us to become co-parents."

"Why not?" Jane shrugged, that simplicity was still there. In many ways it made perfect sense. "We practically live in each other's pockets already. Besides, Ma will not stop on at me about having more grandchildren. Who better to raise a child with than your best friend?"

"I don't know what to say."

Author Notes: Thanks for reading and giving this one a chance, I'm hoping it's different enough to the usual baby fics - I can't wait to hear what you all think about it, so please, if you can take a moment to leave a comment, I will be forever grateful.