This is a stand-alone story that takes place immediately after this season's summer finale (aired 9/10/13). It has nothing to do with my other R&I works on this site, and I'm not sure if it's just a one-shot or if I will continue it. If you like it and think it would make a good multi-chapter fic, let me know.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, even though I had no doubt as to what Jane said.

"Casey asked me to marry him," Jane repeated, a strange funny smile on her face. If I were thinking clearly, I could've easily deciphered the meaning behind her smile using my new 'Biomedical Image Analysis' software.

Even science can't distract me right now.

I will never forget the first moment I knew I was in love with Jane. It was a typical morning; average weather, average case load, and Jane made her way down to the morgue with coffee for me 'just to say hello' as usual. We chatted, shared department gossip, and enjoyed each other's company. As the small talk waned, I felt her looking at me. Self-consciously I asked if I had something in my teeth or if my hair was mussed. She gave me her trademark Rizzoli grin and laughed, telling me that I looked perfect as always.

I have had men (and women, truthfully) look at me with nothing but lust in their eyes. I have had my parents look at me in a way that made me know they loved me. But I have never had anyone look at me the way that Jane was looking at me in that moment. It was lust and familial love combined with something so much more. It was a vibrant, heady, rich feeling. I suddenly felt as if I were the most sensual, powerful, wonderful woman on the planet. It was terrifying. I wasn't ready for anyone, let alone Jane, to look at me like that. What if we tried a relationship and it didn't work out? I had no one else in my life that I was close with – Jane was my best friend; my only friend truthfully. I couldn't bear to lose her if we made an attempt at a romantic relationship

That evening, over one too many glasses of wine, I told myself that I'd rather have Jane in my life as a friend than as nothing at all. It was a weak and foolish decision, but it was the only one I was comfortable with at that time. I purposely began to pull away from her and talk about men and dating, and in turn I felt her do the same. But there were still always those quick looks, those glancing touches, which let me know her feelings hadn't changed. And I tried to reciprocate; sharing things with her that showed her my vulnerability with her, spending as much time with her as possible, allowing her to hug and hold me if I were upset. She did the same, and we became even closer than we had been before. I thought we were on the same page. Based on today's turn of events, I obviously thought wrong.

Jane continued to stare at me, still wearing that smile. She was waiting for me to say something; her posture forward, eyes wide and welcoming, and her breaths rapid and shallow.

I opted for a clearly defensive posture with my shoulders back, eyes narrowed, chin elevated, and my breathing slowed to almost to my normal sedentary rate.

"You're an idiot." I turned and walked away from her, unable to look at her for one second longer.

"Maura!" Jane shouted after me, but I kept walking. I quickly exited the home and walked briskly toward my car. I felt a pang of guilt about leaving Jane and Casey in South Boston without transportation back, but it faded quickly. Casey is a resilient man, I'm sure if he can find his way out of Afghanistan, he can manage to get Jane home safely.

I fumbled around inside my purse for my keys. Finding them, I angrily unlocked my car and threw my purse onto the passenger seat. Just as I was about to get in, I felt a hand grab my arm. Although it made no logical sense, I knew by the way my body reacted to the touch that it's Jane. My stomach dropped and my legs actually began to quiver. I knew I was going to lose control in the parking lot, in public no less, and the very thought of it was overwhelming.

Turning around, I wasn't surprised to see the hurt in her eyes. She let go of my arm and outstretched her hands, but said nothing. This was unexpected – Jane Rizzoli is never at a loss for words.

"I have nothing to say to you right now," I told her, keeping my posture as rigid as possible. I was proud at the amount of composure I maintained. "I wish you the best of luck."

"Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?" Jane asked, smiling, but it didn't reach her eyes. When I didn't respond, she continued, "Seriously Maur, are you okay? What did I do to make you call me an idiot?"

"You're an idiot because you can't see what's right in front of your face, Jane."

"I know what's in front of my face Maura. I just don't know what to do. I mean, how can you ask for a better guy than Casey? He's handsome, caring, and really wants to take care of me." Jane continued to talk about all of Casey's virtues, in which she said 'handsome' four times in the span of twenty seconds, and in order to avoid saying something else that I shouldn't say, I allowed my mind to wander.

When I was a small child, I was stung by a wasp while playing outside. I don't remember the entire event, but I do recall my mother overreacting about the situation. She picked me up, shouting and screaming, and raced inside. I remember her shoving pink pills down my throat and then nervously staring at me with tears streaming down her cheeks for what felt like an eternity. I calmly sat on the counter, fascinated by where the stinger was in my arm, and didn't understand why she was so upset – I was the one who had gotten hurt, not her.

As an adult, now I can understand her fear. Where I was adopted, my medical history and list of familial allergies was unknown to my adoptive parents. Where it was my first time being stung, my mother had no way of knowing if I was going to go into anaphylactic shock and I commend her quick thinking with giving me Benadryl; although she did give me three times the recommended dosage for my size and weight at that time.

Regardless, I felt like I have again been stung, I am in pain, and instead of being able to process it myself, I am forced to process it through the woman standing in front of me.

"Maura, are you even listening to me?"

"Yes Jane, I am. He's very handsome," I spat out.

"Whoa, okay, someone is clearly having a problem here," Jane responded, her hands gesturing wildly.

"I'm not the one with the problem," I argue back.

"Yeah, I know I have a huge problem," she said, putting emphasis on the 'know'. "I don't know if I should get married or not, and that's a major deal for me right now. And I'd like my best friend to help me out with this." She took my hands in hers and the contact was almost too much to bear. "Maur, I need your help. I don't know what to do. He needs an answer."

If I wasn't in love with her, I would have felt sorry for her. She looked downright pathetic with her lower lip stuck out and hunched posture.

Her hands were warm in mine; her delicately strong fingers wrapped around mine fit better than any cashmere glove I've ever worn. It was too much for me to bear and I pushed her hands away with power I didn't know I had.

"Do you know what I think, Jane? I think you're a pathetic excuse for a human being. You are such a gifted detective and can solve crimes on a shred of evidence yet you can't see the obvious clues that have been in front of you for years. You are numb to your own feelings and desires, dependent on your mother's opinion of how you should live your life, and too weak to do what you know is right."

Her eyes flashed with anger and I knew I hit a nerve.

"What does my mother have to do with this?" She asked. "She wants me to marry Casey."

I let out an angry bark of laughter. "Of course that would be your response, wouldn't it?"

"I thought you loved my mother?" She asked dumbly.

"I do love your mother. What I don't love is hearing her talk incessantly about walking in to your and Casey's love shack with you wearing nothing more than a shirt and how adorable of a couple the two of you make and how beautiful your children will be!" I was on a roll and my words came fast and frantic. "Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? I've opened my heart and my home to this woman who I love like a mother and am now forced to hear her babble incessantly on about your happiness with Casey."

"Are you jealous?" Jane asked blankly, and I clenched my fists and she continued on obliviously. "Maura, I know you haven't had great luck with men lately, but you'll find someone, I promise."

A shout distracted us, and we turned to see Casey standing outside the door waving at us. Jane waved back as he began walking toward us. She turned her attention back to me and I suddenly felt like a feral cat backed into a corner. Fight or flight, I told myself as Casey approached.

My voice and eyes lowered, I give her my response. I didn't want to tell her like this. "That's the problem. I already have found someone."

Jane's eyes lit up and she gave me a genuine smile. She was trying to be happy for me, but as I studied her face I could tell her next remark was forced. "That's great – who is it? And why are we fighting?"

"We're fighting because you're an idiot. And unfortunately for me, I'm in love with you. And I'm finally brave enough to say it instead of tiptoeing around the situation like we have been for years. I don't want to find some 'guy', Jane. I want you. And I thought you felt the same but I was wrong. So I guess that makes me the idiot." I couldn't meet her eyes, I was too afraid of what I'd see there. The tension between us was palpable and I needed to get as far away from her as possible.

"Maura, I.." she starts and I harshly interrupt her.

"Don't, Jane. I hope you find the happiness you deserve with Casey." Before she could say anything further, I slid into my car and turned it on. "Let's go please."

"Ladies, I wasn't aware that we were leaving so soon. I hope you weren't waiting for me long." Casey said as he approached and I felt my stomach clench at his attempted charm. Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes and willed myself to calm down. I am in no condition to drive. I had no intention of voicing my feelings to Jane like this. I assumed Casey would leave again after a short visit, which he always did, and things would go back to normal between Jane and myself.

Tears threatened to fall so I quickly found my sunglasses in my purse and pushed them onto my face with trembling fingers.

"I apologize for my abrupt exit, Casey. I needed some fresh air."

Jane continued to stand rooted in the parking lot staring at me through my driver's side window. Casey glanced at her, placed a tentative hand on her shoulder and shrugged when we received no response. He quickly got into the back seat.

"Are you feeling unwell, Maura?" He asked, and I remind myself again that none of this is his fault. He has done nothing wrong, other than fall in love with my best friend. I can't blame him.

"Yes I am, actually." I swallowed with much difficulty and glanced at him in the review mirror. He looks between Jane and me, evidently concerned.

"Did I miss something?" He asked, his voice thick.

I ignored him. I hate to be rude, but he isn't my problem to deal with.

"Everything's fine," Jane assured him as she slid into the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt. Her scarred hands trembled like I haven't seen in a long time and it was obvious that she was upset. "Maura and I were just going over a few things."

He was easily swayed and looked content as he reclined against the rear seat. "I'm sure the two of you need to go back to work for a bit. Maura, would you mind dropping me at Jane's apartment?"

"Not at all," I responded as I felt Jane stiffen next to me, "I'm actually going to go home and rest. Jane, I'll drop you at the station first."

She nodded stiffly. After a few seconds of awkward silence, she reached over to turn on the radio. Casey hummed along aimlessly and she began tapping her fingers against her pants. I could tell she wanted to say something, but she didn't have the courage to do so. She didn't need to go back to the station; her case wrapped and paperwork completed.

I navigated through the light traffic easily. I left Jane off outside of the station and noted with pleasure that she barely said goodbye to Cases even though he hurried out of the rear seat in order to open her door for her. He looked very confused sitting in the vacated front seat. We drove in silence, the low tones of the radio in the background.

"Can I ask you a question?" He inquired less than a mile from Jane's block. "As Jane's best friend I'm hoping you may be shed some light on a few things for me."

I sighed quietly. "Casey, I have no insights as to Jane's behavior or emotional state. She's a very complex woman. If you need to ask something, you should just ask her."

"Point taken," he said, putting his hands up in front of his torso. "I'm sure she appreciates your loyalty."

I nodded in response. We sat quietly at a red light only three blocks from Jane's apartment.

He suddenly snorted. "I thought I was doing the right thing by trying to cook and clean for her. Help her out with household stuff because she's always so busy at work. Hell, I've been in the military for a long time. Sometimes it's nice to do mindless tasks such as laundry." He paused, clearly searching for the right words to say next. "Then she tells me that she's 'always wanted a wife'. What the hell does that mean?" The pitch of his voice rose, an indication of his frustration and anger. "Here I'm trying to help her out with things she hates to do, and then she emasculates me?"

"I don't think that was her intention," I respond, biting the corner of my cheek to keep from smiling; did she really say that to him? "Jane has a peculiar sense of humor. I'm sure she was likening your housework to the stereotypical gender roles assigned to our modern society. Women complete housework, men go out and catch the bad guys. Jane deals with these stereotypes daily, and humor is her way of coping with subjects she has a difficult time processing."

I finished my sentence just as I pulled up to Jane's apartment.

"Thanks," he muttered as he exited my car. I drove away before I could watch him walk up the stairs.

The rest of the drive home was painful. I tried valiantly to pretend that the events of the last hour never happened. I thought about other things; if my grandfather would enjoy his time at the home, if Paddy would appreciate me helping to take care of his father, if my sister was sticking to her self-appointed study schedule yet still find time to see her friends, what type of vegetables I should try to grow for Bass using hydroponics this winter, and if my Amazon Prime order had shipped yet.

I failed miserably. My thoughts were only of Jane; her mane of wild hair and kind eyes. The way her voice was so soft and warm in the mornings before her coffee. The way she said my name – her mouth formed the letters to make them sound like the low rumble of thunder before a rainstorm. I thought of her hands, damaged yet still so graceful and expressive. The way her body fit naturally around mine when we hugged. I've never felt comfortable around anyone before; that is until I met Jane.

I numbly changed my clothes, fed Bass, and crawled onto the couch. Covering myself with a blanket, I turned on the television and scrolled through my Netflix queue.

"Might as well watch Orange is the New Black," I spoke aloud to myself, knowing Jane & I had planned to marathon it next weekend. I'm sure that will never happen now that she'll be planning a wedding. Blinking back tears, I pressed 'play' and prepared to lose myself in someone else's drama for a while.

A soft knock at my front door caused me to mute the television. It was so late; almost midnight.

"Hello?" I asked, and stood on my tiptoes to look through the peephole. Jane was hunched in front of the front door, her head down.

"Maur," A strangled voice croaked out and I flung the door open, afraid that Jane was injured.

My eyes roamed over her, checking for injuries. She was obviously fine despite her red-rimmed eyes and a distinct amount of puffiness under each eyelid. She had been crying.

Despite her impressive height and toned physique, she looked small. Her hands fidgeted with the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt. I could tell by her labored breathing and signs of perspiration that she had jogged here from her house.

"I told him yes," she said as her eyes frantically searched mine.

"Then why are you here?" I responded coolly, taking a step back to distance myself from her.

She didn't answer. Her eyes bored into mine and I saw it – that look – in the depths of her eyes. Without warning she lunged forward and kissed me. Within seconds, her hands found themselves tangled in my hair as she pressed me closer to her. I needed no encouragement and allowed my fingers to explore the rugged femininity of her waist and back. She was perfection in my arms and I never wanted this feeling to stop.

The first touch of her tongue to mine was electric and I felt the jolt down through my toes. She kissed me more deeply and intimate than I thought would be possible.

When she finally ended the kiss, her fingers were still entwined in my hair. Pressing her forehead to mine, I knew she didn't have the resolve to look me in the eyes.

"I love you," she breathed and her voice was barely more than a whisper. "Goddamn you. I'm in love with you."

To be continued?