Title: Take a Chance

Author: A. Windsor

Pairing/Characters: Jane/Maura

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. My one year of law school could allow me to legalese this a little more, but it also tells me it's pretty useless. So please don't sue; it's not mine, I'm just playing!

Summary: Jane is late.

Author's Note: My first Rizzoli & Isles, purely a result of anxiousness for the coming season. It's future fic, and fluffy, and if that's not your thing, read no further. Because it shamelessly is my thing. If it sucks, I'll sulk back to my Callie/Arizona world with my tail between my legs. Beta'd by the wonderful, snarky roughian.

"Hmm, please measure precisely twenty-five centimeters for the suture. And then can you thread the needle, Nathaniel?"

Jane pauses in the doorway, sneaking into her favorite spot, where she has a full line of sight on the table but its occupants can't see her. Maura's voice is nothing but professional as she looks to her small assistant and waits patiently for him to hand her the supplies.

"Yes, Mother," the eight-year-old answers back just as solemnly, even if the edges of his lips quirk upward at the exchange.

It's their game: whenever she uses his full first name, he responds in kind.

His stubby fingers work at the thread in his grasp, hazel eyes narrowing with concentration as he finally manages to work the needle onto the string, pulling it tight. He shakes sandy brown bangs out of his eyes and hands over the fruits of his labors.

"Thank you, Nate," Maura drops the act momentarily, leaning over to smack a kiss on his cheek.

The boy screws his face up.

"Mo-om."

Maura smothers her smile and sets to work with practiced motions, all attention on her patient. Nate leans over her elbow, just far enough away to not hinder her movements but close enough to observe her technique, a perfect distance learned through trial and error.

"Will he still be able to hug, Doctor?" a tiny, concerned voice asks from the far end of the table. The patient's next of kin, her face flushed with worry and her hair disheveled, bites at a plump lip, chocolate eyes wide.

"Barring any unforeseen complications, yes, he should regain full function."

"Wha's that mean?"

"Mom means he'll still hug once she fixes him up, Livvy," Nate translates for the four-year-old.

"Oh good," the girl breathes, tiny hands pressed to her chest against the sparkly princess tiara dominating the front of her nightgown. "Thank you, Mommy."

"You're very welcome, Olivia. Thank your brother as well; he's an able assistant."

"Thank you, Nate," Olivia says earnestly.

"'Welcome, Liv."

"This is the hard part; come hold his hand, sweetheart," Maura instructs gently.

The dark-haired girl jumps down and hurries to a closer chair before climbing back into position, grabbing for the patient's hand.

"There," Maura declares, tying off a quick surgical knot. She sticks the needle into a nearby pin-cushion and lifts the patient off the table. She gives him a once over and a little fluff before presenting him to Olivia, who is simply beside herself with joy.

"Oh, Theo," little Livvy cries, elated. "She fixed you!"

"Dr. Maura Isles, teddy bear surgeon," Jane finally announces her presence. "Remind me to get you a plaque for the office."

"Hey, Ma," Nate greets.

"Ma, look what Mommy did! She fixed Theo's arm so now he can hug again," Olivia exclaims, hurrying over and holding up her newly-fixed companion. "Will you hug Theo?"

Jane sighs and takes the worn grey bear into her hands, studying him.

"Theodore, you're looking well. How're the wife and kids?" she asks as she makes a big show of hugging him, much to her daughter's delight.

"Kate, Doug, and Ted Junior are very well," Maura informs her.

She motions to the rest of the stuffed animal family at the other end of the table: Theodore's wife Katherine (a tabby cat), elder son Douglas (a Snoopy puppy) and younger son Theodore, Jr. (a bear, like his father, but purple). Of course Maura Isles's daughter couldn't just call her toys Teddy, Kitty, and Doggie and be done with it.

"And how are my wife and kids?"

God, these three have made her such a sap.

"Ma, you're very late," Livvy scolds, dropping her hands to her hips. "Mommy said you might miss bedtime. Were you catching twerps?"

"Perps, Liv," Nate groans. "Our moms catch perps."

"And sometimes they're twerps, too," Jane assures the little girl, lifting her into her arms. "Sorry I'm late."

"It's okay; you didn't miss it," Livvy assures her, kissing her ma's cheek before Jane sets her on the ground.

"It's late, though. You two need to go brush your teeth and crawl in bed. We'll be right up to tuck you in."

"Nathaniel, help her if she needs it," Maura calls after the scurrying children.

"Yes, Mother."

Jane rolls her eyes.

"Did you catch the twerp?" Maura asks as she tidies up her sewing kit. Jane comes around the table and wraps her up from behind, kissing her cheek and then resting her chin on her shoulder.

"We did. He's in central booking. They were backed up, and Barry had to get home to Lilah; she's due in five days and driving him crazy. Covered for him since he usually covers for me. I'm sorry I'm late."

"You made it in time for bedtime; that's all that matters to them."

"And to you?"

"I work the job, too, Jane. My hours can be a little more regular when I want them to be, yes, but I understand. Things happen."

"That still doesn't sound like I'm not in trouble."

"You're not," Maura says simply, twisting to kiss Jane's temple. "Take Kate and the boys with you upstairs; Livvy will want them before she sleeps. Can you supervise bedtime? I have to finish cleaning up from dinner."

"Yeah, of course."

Jane grabs the bear, cat, and dog to bring upstairs with her.

"What do you think, Kate?" Jane asks the orange cat in her left hand. She turns to the puppy and teddy bear. "Am I in trouble? Doug? Ted?"

She walks into the kids' bathroom to see Nate giving his sister a leg up as she scrubs at her teeth with a bright purple toothbrush. She smiles; they aren't biological siblings at all, but they are just as close as she's ever been to Frankie or Tommy, bickering and bonding in equal proportion.

"Nate, I never did get a hug, bud," she says as he puts Livvy down after she's spit her toothpaste all over the sink.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, Ma," Nate says, coming over to give her a quick squeeze around the middle. "What kinda bad guy did you catch today?"

"A very bad one," Jane tells him, scruffing his fine hair. "You brush your teeth?"

"Mhmm."

"Hm. Open up."

She leans down to sniff his minty fresh breath.

"Okay."

"I brushed, Ma," Livvy bounces, blowing in her face with all her might.

"Yes, thanks, Liv, I saw."

She takes advantage of their momentarily matched heights to kiss the four-year-old's cheek.

"Go pick out some stories. You get to pick one, and Nate gets to pick one."

People ask if she wishes the kids looked like her or Maura. While she does get the occasional pang of wanting a mini-Maura running around with baby-Googlemouth, she's never regretted backing her wife's strong preference for adoption, especially of foster kids.

Sure, it was hard dealing with a two-and-a-half-year-old that was bounced between foster families from four-months-old onward or a six-month-old that had never spent more than a month of her short life with the same people. But Nate has already caught up in socialization to his peers and claims to have no memory of a single foster family, and Livvy quickly became accustomed to having the undivided, long-term attention of her two mothers. And when Jane sees in her line of work what happens to far too many foster kids that don't get adopted, she's grateful they chose the path they did.

"This one, Ma."

"Took ya long enough, buttface."

"Buttface! I'm not a buttface," Nate objects, as they all settle onto Livvy's bed. "You're a buttface."

"No way. You're a buttface," Jane shoots back.

Livvy giggles, and Jane's sure it's the most beautiful sound she's ever heard.

"We're teaching them such a wide and polite vocabulary," Maura comments from the doorway, wry brow raised, arms crossed over her chest.

Jane gives her a repentant smile, and the grin Maura manages for her in return erases all thoughts of her being in trouble. Maura comes to join them, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Livvy has chosen The Tortoise and the Hare and is overjoyed when the illustrations on the title page reveal both a tortoise and a hare in jogging suits.

"Oh! He's a tortoise like Bassie!" Livvy gasps. "I want him to win."

"He does," Nate duhs.

"Spoiler alert," Jane murmurs towards her wife, eliciting a warm laugh.

"We should have Bass here for this story," Olivia insists.

"Liv, if we wait for Bass to make it up here, we'll be here until your thirtieth birthday," Jane complains.

"If you bring the book down to breakfast, Livvy, I'm sure Bass would love to hear it," Maura assures their daughter.

That placates the four-year-old, and she settles back down at Jane's side, even as one of her hands reaches out to tangle with her mommy's. Maura takes the hand easily; Maura might be occasionally awkward with other people, but she has never hesitated to shower both verbal and physical affection on their children, even if she wasn't sure she could. Livvy especially likes to keep a physical connection to her, the need getting stronger the sleepier she gets.

By the end of The Tortoise and the Hare, Maura is fully on the bed next to Jane, and Livvy has crawled into her lap, head nestled comfortably against her chest as Maura's hand plays with her dark curls.

"What do you got for us, buddy?" Jane asks as she sets Livvy's large picture book aside. She glances at her baby girl, almost completely asleep in Maura's arms.

Nate holds up his selection.

"Frog and Toad, again, Nate?" Jane groans.

"You said I could pick, Ma. Frog and Toad are friends," Nate grins cheekily, citing the title. "Even though they are opposites. Besides, you said I can't pick my favorite book anymore 'cause it makes Liv laugh too much and then she doesn't go to sleep."

"She is inordinately amused by Everyone Poops, yes," Maura agrees.

"Poo-oops," Olivia giggles sleepily, eyes firmly shut, snuggling further into her mommy's chest.

"And I like Toad. He's grumpy. Like you, Ma."

Jane feigns hurt with an appalled, dramatic gasp while Maura chuckles warmly. Nate laughs at his own joke and then hands over the book.

"Oh, no, no. Just for that, you're reading tonight, mister."

"Okay," Nate shrugs, settling the pillows behind him so that he can sit up and then opening the book with a flourish. He settles his finger under the first word to make sure he doesn't get lost and clears his throat.

"You ready now, Shakespeare?"

"See," Nate says pointedly to Maura. "Grumpy."

"Hmm. Yes. Definitely."

"You need more sleep, Ma," Nate offers.

Jane turns to Maura. "You coach him on that?"

"Nathaniel just makes an astute observation."

"Thank you, Mother."

"Alright, alright. Let's get this show on the road. I'm never missing dinner again; you turn the children against me."

"Yes, Jane, they're completely against you," Maura says dryly, nodding towards Nate's arm, which is possessively linked through his ma's.

Jane grins at both of them.

"Well, I'll never get any sleep if we don't get this book done. Get on with it, then. I wanna hear that reading voice."

Nate schools his features, wrinkles his brow, and begins to read, while Livvy starts to snore. He pauses, briefly, to roll his eyes at his little sister before continuing.

Jane knows the words by heart now, so her attention wanders. She revels in the sound of Nate's voice, growing stronger and surer the older he gets. She watches Livvy's heavy breathing blow her wild curls asunder, then smiles wryly as Maura's hand immediately, instinctively smoothes it over. She meets her wife's eyes with pride as Nate stumbles over a word only to recover himself, repeating the word clearly in triumph.

She's not quite sure how she got here: the wife, the kids, the house, the dog. (The tortoise.) But she's pretty damn grateful for it. All she knows is one day she was crazy enough, brave enough to take a chance on Maura, and dear god has it paid off.

fin