A/N: So, it's been a while. Feeling a little rusty but couldn't shake off the itch to write. Write something fluffy. So here goes, a product of my minimal knowledge of what's going on in Season 7 (I keep up via social media. Should I actually watch? UPDATE: watched last night's ep, wasn't too bad, fic-inspiring ;) ). I hope to get my writing mojo back. And, if even one person enjoys this, please let me know, it'll make my day. :) Oh, I started writing a few lines for a next chapter but stopped. This feels like a one-shot. The "next chapter" could very well end up as a separate one shot. We shall see.

Some mornings, Maura would sit savoring her first cup of coffee, minutes before Jane walks in, and think about how her life no longer feels empty. In fact, it feels as close to full as it ever has.

She has her parents - the people who have raised her - and friends who feel closest to being a real family. And Jane. Jane who feels like the last piece that completes the puzzle.

Almost whole, essentially complete.

Except now, bits and pieces of her whole have been vanishing. Snippets of memories hidden beyond her reach, her only reassurance has been telling herself they are not lost, merely misplaced. That some day, one day, she will retrieve them from this palace she has built in her brain.

Medical jargon, a colleague's name, cross streets, a restaurant's name. Sure, it bothers her when her brain fails her.

The other day, Frankie had asked her which cheese he should surprise Angela with. Upon her advice, he had gotten her camembert. The next day, he told Maura that his mother had loved the cheese, however, acted like she'd never had it before. That's when she realized Angela's favorite was actually brie.

Definitely, it bothers her when she mixes up words, names, terminologies. But in those instances, she knows the words are there, only misplaced.

It's moments when a piece of information totally escapes her that scares her. It's those moments when it feels like a piece of her mind has vanished that terrifies her.

Like the morning she had woken up and then proceeded to get British strawberries from her fridge to feed Bass. Only, she couldn't find her tortoise anywhere. Jane had walked in then, coming in earlier than usual to bring her breakfast. Jane had told her, in a tone teeming with barely disguised fear, that Bass had peacefully passed away from old age a little over a year ago.

She had wanted to cry, almost did, but the fear evident in Jane's face had kept her from doing so. She had quickly reassured Jane that she is hopeful that resorption of the clot will happen eventually, and soon. And when it does, she would no longer have these episodes. Still worried, Jane had once again inquired if surgery wasn't necessary. Again, Maura had to reassure her that it hadn't gotten to that point.

"Yet?" Jane had asked nervously.

"Hopefully, we don't ever get to that point."

She is scared, sure. But not desperate. She's anxious but hopeful. There are strategies that would help her cope, adapt while she waits for her brain to heal and become whole again. She tells herself this all the time. Jane had looked like she needed to hear it, too.

One late evening, Maura sits in bed doing her newly established pre-bed workout, a brain workout where she would answer 25 questions she had written down that morning. Questions pertaining to events in her life, both mundane and significant. The 16th question asks how she and Jane had first met.

For the life of her, she cannot remember. She rewinds the tape in her head, going as far back as she can but never quite getting to the part where their friendship began.

For the first time since the onset of her cognitive issues, she feels terrified. Terrified enough to call Jane, ignoring all previous inhibitions about worrying her best friend.

"Maur. What's up? Are you ok?"

"Jane." From the mere utterance of her name, Jane detects her emotional state.

"What's wrong, Maura? Are you ok? I'm coming over."

"Jane…"

"Maur, what is it? Please talk to me, you're scaring me, sweetie. Do I need to call 911?" she tries valiantly to not lose control, already reaching for her landline.

"No, no. I'm just…Jane…" the mention of 911 seems to snap the doctor out of her hysterical trance momentarily. "Jane, I'm scared."

"Ok, Maur, sweetie, I'm getting in my car right now. Don't hang up, just...just let me drive and I'll be there soon. Don't hang up, talk to me, Maur. Is it your head? Are you having a headache? Because if you are, we need to call 911 or I'm taking you straight to the ER."

"No...I'm not in pai-" Maura cuts herself off, knowing this to be a lie. She is in pain. Her heart feels tremendous pain. Her heart fears for her brain. "My head doesn't hurt. I'm just...please drive carefully, Jane. I need...I need you to make it here. I need you here." she pleads

"I will, Maur, I promise. Soon, I'll be there very soon. "

In less than 5 minutes, she is at Maura's door, not bothering to knock. Instead, she uses her key to get in, the entire time mumbling angrily at herself for changing her mind about staying the night at Maura's. She rushes to Maura's room where the doctor had said she would be, practically jumping onto the bed to kneel in front of her best friend. She takes a few calming breaths, relieved to see her best friend intact. Clearly distraught but intact, not hurt or injured in any way.

"What's wrong, Maur?" She asks softly, cupping her cheek with one hand while the other sweeps dirty blonde hair off her face.

"I...I got scared, Jane. So scared."

"Why? What happened? Did you hear something? Do you think someone's here?" Maura shakes her head. Jane feels immediate relief, flashes of Maura's recent kidnapping had made her drive well over the speed limit. "Did...was there something you...couldn't remember?" Maura nods. "A word? A name? I mean Korsak's pretty easy to forget." She attempts to ease some weight off the moment, earning a half-hearted smile from Maura. "Did you forget the year the Sox first worn the World Series? Because no one expects you to remember that, Maur. Frankie's birthday? That shouldn't worry you, really. Even I forget it all the time. Or could you not remember what goes in a cla -"

"I couldn't remember how we met."

"-fouti? Wait, you what?" she cuts herself off, surprised by the answer. "Oh, Maur. Honey, it's ok. That's what I'm here for." Jane sits back on her legs, keeping a hand on Maura's neck and gently pulling the blonde close, leaving their foreheads touching. "Hey, I'll gladly tell you about it. It's one of my favorite stories. Scratch that, it's my all-time favorite story." Jane goes on to recount the tale to Maura. Not too long into it, the familiar spiel seems to jog Maura's memory, letting her finish the rest of it herself.

"Thank you, Jane." She scoots closer to the brunette, both of them now seated side by side, leaning against the headboard, clasped fingers resting on Jane's thigh.

"Do you feel better now?"

Maura shrugs and then nods, hesitation apparent.

"A little. I'm sorry for bothering you about something so silly."

"Hey, hey now, nothing's ever too silly or unimportant when it comes to you, ok." Jane's free hand joins the clasped pair on her lap, plays with the tips of Maura's fingers. She couldn't look up, suddenly bashful. "If you need me, call. Pleeeeeease don't even think twice about it."

Maura pulls her hand from Jane's, quickly suspending the brunette's disappointment when she slides both hands around Jane's middle, curling as much of her entire form into the taller woman. "I hate worrying you, you worry enough about me as it is. I just...I was terrified."

Jane engulfs the doctor in a reassuring hug, presses a kiss onto her temple. "Maur, I can only imagine how scary this must be, but you said it yourself, this will resolve itself eventually. You said you- we- shouldn't be too scared if you can't remember some stuff, that it's temporary. That's what we're all here for. Lord knows Ma wouldn't mind telling you stories over and over again." Maura laughs lightly, squeezing Jane's waist. "This is not permanent, you keep reassuring me when I ask you if there's anything else that can be done. I'm supposed to be the paranoid, anxious one here. You're the intellectual one with all the facts and statistics and all that cr- that info. Why are you so scared now? Is there something you're not telling me?" Jane pulls away a little, trying to catch Maura's eyes.

Instead of meeting Jane's eyes, Maura curls into a smaller ball, now practically sitting on Jane's lap. She's quiet for a lengthy moment before taking in a deep breath.

"Because it's you," Maura finally answers, quietly, the sound muffled with her mouth pressed against Jane's chest. "I can handle forgetting a word, a name, a date but I...don't want to lose you."

"Maur, that's ridiculous. You're not -"

"I don't want to lose any piece of you...in me. Even if it's just a memory. It's never just a memory when you're part of it." Maura's eyes close, a tad embarrassed by her admission. She curls even more into Jane, prompting the other woman to lift her off the bed and fully onto her lap. Maura's face finds Jane's neck, nuzzling against its warmth, wanting to hide inside Jane if she could. The arm around her shoulders gives her a tug, clutching her even closer. When she feels the vibration of laughter against Jane's chest, she pinches the detective's hip. "Don't laugh at me, I'm being very honest here," she chides.

"Aw, I'm sorry, Maur. I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It's just...you're just too adorable for me right now." She squeezes the doctor close. "I'll help you remember, Maur. There's no way I'll let you lose any part of me. You're stuck with me, all of me. I am not giving up my spot in that big, beautiful brain of yours."

Jane's words seem to finally pull Maura out from her shell. She pulls away but a tad, one hand reaching for Jane's face. Their eyes lock, their mouths share tender smiles. A finger begins to trace a path from Jane's forehead, around her eyes, over her nose. And then a thumb runs over Jane's lips, all mirth gone from both their eyes and mouths.

"My big…" she reaches up to press a kiss onto Jane's forehead. "Beautiful…" The next kiss lands just above one brow. "Brain…" And then the other. "Isn't the only part of me you have a permanent place in."

Maura pulls away, again catching Jane's eyes, communicating what a multitude of her fears has kept locked up inside. If she were being honest, she has recently begun to entertain thoughts about her mortality. And then tonight, the memory of how scared she had been, seems to have unlocked her emotions, cut off the rope that ties her inhibitions to her actions.

When she sees the same emotions reflected in Jane's gaze, she leans forward, brushing her lips against Jane's slightly parted ones. The kiss, their first, lasts but a couple of seconds but is enough to leave them both breathless. Maura picks up Jane's hand clutching for dear life onto her thigh and brings it up to brush her mouth over knuckles. She lays their hands over her chest, over a rapidly beating heart. "Here, too."