Author's Note: Brushing this one off the archives. I believe I wrote this based on a request I had seen from someone in the community elsewhere. Though I don't remember who. Anyway, just a little idea of all the things Maura practices to fit in better with Jane.

As always, I own absolutely none of this. Except for these words. But even those are technically Merriam-Webster's.

Reviews are lovely, and certainly appreciated.

Jane finds Maura alone at the batting cages on a Thursday evening.

"Holy shit. Maura?"

Maura spins so fast on her heels in shock, her helmet falls forward, visor obstructing her view. She pushes the helmet back in a rush, blushing slightly at being caught.

"Jane. Hi."

"What…" Jane starts but stops. Looks around. Shakes her head and tries again. "Did you get lost?

"Lost?" Maura questions easily, head cocked to the side in subtle amusement.

"You're at the batting cages. Softball." Jane drawls. She's confused, and if Maura's assessment of Jane's facial features is correct, slightly aroused.

"Yes. I'm working on my swing. I want to be more of an asset to the team."

Best friends stare at each other. 20 seconds pass, and Jane shoves a hand through her unruly mane. "I…this is weird." Another pause, and then, "Is that my old Sox jersey?"

Maura tugs at the shirt. "You left it at my house the other day. Most of my clothing is too restricting and not conducive to the upper body movement needed for a sport such as this. I hope you don't mind."

Jane simply nods. Gnaws on her lower lip. A ball whizzes by Maura as the duo continue to gaze at the other.

Jane breaks the stalemate. "You want help with your swing?"

Maura knows exactly what the most advantageous hand placement and stance is for her swing. But if Jane is offering, who is she to deny a friendly gesture.

And when Maura's body flushes as Jane's long arms wrap around her to grip the bat as well, Maura brushes it off as her body's cooling mechanism during exercise.

It's two weeks later, on a Friday night, when Jane catches Maura drinking beer un-coerced.

"Maura! I've got the pizza!" Jane calls out, balancing the pizza box in one hand and Jo Friday in the other as she kicks Maura's front door shut.

Jane Rizzoli abruptly halts as she enters her best friend's living room, utterly bewildered at the sight before her.

"Whoa there. What's with the solo binge drinking?" Jane asks, exchanging pizza and dog for a bottle of Dogfish IPA. It's one of twenty she could have picked from.

"If you're gonna binge, you should really go with the cheap stuff, Maur". Taking a swig from the bottle, Jane sighs happily. Though she may enjoy cheap beer most nights, the expensive shit really does hit the spot. "Even with your disposable income, you'll break the bank if you keep this up."

"It's not what it looks like Jane." Maura clicks her tongue, batting away Jane's hand as she reaches for another bottle. "I'm practicing drinking beer."

"Uhh…" Jane squints. "It's not exactly the kind of thing you practice. Especially alone." Jane pauses for dramatic effect before adding. "There's a name for that. Alcoholism".

Groaning, Maura gestures for Jane to join her on the couch.

"I'm sampling different craft breweries. While the Dirty Robber may always indulge my preference for wine, I know you enjoy beer. I thought I might find a beer suitable for my palate too, to make it easier when we go out to places where wine is not an option."

Jane frowns. Toys with the scars on her hands. "You don't have to do that, ya know? It's perfectly okay to want wine instead of beer. I don't want you to dumb down your tastes just to hang out with me."

Maura smiles at her friend. Places a placating hand on Jane's exposed forearm. "I can assure you I'm not 'dumbing down' anything. I want to experience new things. Like beer."

Jane beams. "You want to drink beer?" At Maura's nod, Jane fist pumps the air.

"I knew I could get you on my team."

Maura chalks up the slight arrhythmia she feels as the thrill of inclusion.

Three months pass and Jane notices the little things Maura has methodically adapted. The quick quips and increased fluency in sarcasm, the Medical Examiner's occasional preference for loungewear more comfortable than fashionable. The detective catches it all.

But it's what Jane stumbles upon on a Saturday night that really throws her for a loop.

Jane goes to her mother's new home for Saturday Night dinner early, attempting to catch the end of the Sox game in the process. She's entirely unprepared to find Maura Isles in her mother's kitchen with flour and marinara sauce smeared on one check.

"Sweetheart! You're here early!" Angela greets her daughter. She wipes her hands on her apron and leans over to kiss her eldest child on the cheek.

Jane's dumbfounded. "Did I miss something?"

"Your mother is teaching me how to make Chicken Parmesan. I never learned how to prepare Italian cuisine, so Angela agreed to give me a crash course."

Angela beams. "She's a natural, Janie. Her babies are going to be well fed. At least one of yous will know how to take care of a family." Maura blushes at the compliment as Jane growls.

But then, Maura downright combusts when Jane's finger juts forward to whisk away the marinara resting on her cheek. Watches carefully as Jane pulls her finger to her mouth.

"Oh shit that's good."

"I told ya!" Angela calls out from the dining room. Jane winks before heading off to the living room to catch the last of the game, entirely unaware of the flustered Maura cupping her now clean cheek.

Maura's still reeling after dinner, when Jane joins her on Angela's oversized sofa. She self-consciously tucks an errant curl behind her own ear as Jane leans over to whisper. "Don't tell Ma, but your Chicken Parm is better."

Maura smiles, making great show of zipping up her lips with her finger. Jane laughs in response, the sound loud and carefree. The brunette drops an arm around Maura's shoulder. Grips tighter as the smaller woman tucks in closer.

And it's there in Jane's arms where Maura finally accepts this for what it is. Maura knows how enamored she really is.

And Maura clutches Jane tighter as the panic sets in.

It's that Sunday when Jane finally puts it all together. That fateful Sunday, when she overhears Maura practicing a speech.

The beer, the softball, the cooking, Maura always maintained she was practicing for herself. Practicing for her own betterment. Striving towards a well-rounded persona.

The scientist now recognizes her justifications for what they were. Lies.

Months, and she's had the most practice in lying.

Months, and she hasn't hyperventilated once.

The way she sees it, she could continue this trend. Prolong the deceit and half-truths to circumvent spilling her heart out.

Or, she could practice something Jane so adamantly wishes for her: asking for the things she wants.

It's just one thing Maura wants, really.

One specific, beautiful, intelligent, brash, fearless, woman, to be exact.

So Maura practices asking for Jane in front of the mirror.

"Jane, I've been meaning to tell you." Maura cringes at her reflection. No, too much of a lie. She hasn't been meaning to tell Jane anything.

"I love you". She's said those words to her best friend before, but they didn't hold the all-encompassing meaning they do now. Maura blinks. That won't do. She needs to temper her words, lest Jane run.

"I've come to the realization…" There, she coaches her reflection. That's a good start. Keep going.

"…all these uncharacteristic things you catch me doing, they're not for me. Well, I suppose they are for me, but I want to do them for you."

Maura falls into a rhythm, pent up emotions pouring out of her mouth faster than a recitation of the chemical properties of antimatter.

But far less articulate.

"I do them for you. It's research in motion. Placing myself in situations you typically enjoy, garnering more of an understanding of your personality. I want to talk baseball with you and drink beer with you and cook for you and make you happy. Not just as friends but…."

Maura stops mid ramble as Jane's reflection enters into the mirror's range.

"How long have you been here?"

Jane crosses her arms as she leans against the bathroom's doorframe. "Around the time you said 'Jane, I've been meaning to tell you'".

Maura hides her head in her hands. "No."

"Yeah."

"You weren't supposed to hear this."

"You've said my name four times since you started talking to yourself. I think the evidence here calls bullshit on that one." Jane's smirking, but Maura's too far-gone in embarrassment to notice.

Maura clarifies. "Yet. You weren't supposed to hear, yet."

A tear slips down Maura's check, and before she can catch it, Jane's thumb is flicking the moisture away. Maura cries harder.

Jane pulls the shuddering woman into her arms, cheek resting atop her hair. "Chardonnay. Oscar De La Renta…" She whispers.

Tears stop. Maura's mind works overtime to fill in context. "Wha—"

"The History Channel. Oysters. Shakespeare. I've learned to like those things for you. Or at least tolerate them. I do it because of you. For you."

Maura stares up in wonder as Jane leans closer. All at once, they're kissing.

Panting, the pair part. Maura grins. Presses her forehead against Jane's.

"Jane, I've been meaning to tell you…"