A/N: Last chapter. A heartfelt thanks to all those who reviewed, favourited, and followed. As always with my stories, the A story (which is the crime) ends up actually being the B story, because I use them to propel character development. Although I've gone outside the boundaries set by the show, I hope I've been able to keep the characters as "Jane" and "Maura". My goal is always to blend show canon and develop my own, while making it all as seamless as possible. I hope I've succeeded here.

NOTE: I have written many more R&I fics that are not on this site. If you're interested in reading more, please go to .com! Thanks!

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CHAPTER TWELVE

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Frost was leaning against his car when Jane sidled up beside him. "Got it?" He waved the piece of paper. "Then what are we waiting for?"

The walk up to the house was a determined one, capped off by Jane's insistent knock.

"Who is it?" came a voice from the other side.

Jane silently motioned for Frost to go around the back. She counted to ten before answering. "Boston PD, Mr. Kowalski. We've already talked."

"Then I ain't got nothin' to say."

There was a sound of rustling, a door slamming, and the painfully distinct sound of bodies hitting the ground.

"Frost!" she shouted before racing around the corner. What she saw made her stop and laugh. "Hold on, Frost. Lemme get my phone."

"This is police brutality!"

Frost looked down at the body pinned to the ground. "Please. The only brutality here is what your stench is doing to my suit. Damn, man. I just got this dry-cleaned."

"Get up, Mr. Kowalski," Jane ordered, and Frost helped him to his feet with a sharp pull of the handcuffs.

"I wanna talk to my lawyer."

"And you can do that at the station," she assured him. "But first, we have a warrant to search your garage."

Frost flashed a smile and the warrant. Pulling a lawn chair closer, he pushed the man down. "Take a load off. Don't go anywhere."

Jane snapped on some gloves and lifted the garage door. She saw the car immediately. "Well that was easy." Her eyes roamed from left to right as she prowled the small room. "Check every inch, Frost."

The partners silently found a rhythm, meticulously lifting sheets, cracking open cabinets, and checking behind the larger items. Dust filled the air and Frost waved it away. Jane held her arm to her nose and did the same.

"I know it's here, Frost. I know it."

"I'll tear the place apart if you want me to, Jane."

"I know you will." She sighed and glanced around one more time. "I guess the glory will have to go to CSRU."

"Fuck that," Frost said. "If you say it's here, it's here. We're not leaving until we find it."

Jane watched as the young man began pulling at bags and tearing open boxes. "Frost, a bat's not gonna fit in-" but he kept on, uncaring of the mess he was creating behind him. Hefting a fallen punching bag out of the way, he made a path to a mattress and pushed it to the side, through garbage and junk. She marvelled at his tenacity.

"Jane!" he exhaled, body bent and dirty. He stepped aside and she saw the garbage can pressed into the corner. "How he got his fat ass over here, I'll never know."

She barely heard his words amid the blood rushing to her ears. The can was bent and battered, and the lid barely fit. Sticking out to the side was clearly the knob of a baseball bat. "You get it, Frost," she offered. "You earned it."

He took a few photos then tossed the lid to the side. With care that was contrary to the very search that lead him there, he removed the bat from the garbage and pointed it at Jane.

"Number 14," she whispered. She helped him over the pile he created, then swiftly exited the garage.

"Jane!"

Though she heard the alarm in his voice, she didn't slow down until she was standing in front of Kowalski. Reaching behind her, she snapped her fingers and gestured for Frost to give her the bat.

"Jane…," he gently warned, but handed it over.

She tilted it in the sunlight until she saw exactly where the sliver was missing. "Do you see this bit here?" she asked, her voice eerily calm. "That's the bit that stuck in Mildred Wilson's head after you bashed it in."

"I'm not say-"

"That's right," she hissed between gritted teeth, "you're not saying anything. In fact, I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut, you piece of shit." She held the end of the barrel under his nose. "See that number? This bat was part of a collection. Part of a huge fucking collection of a woman's life you had no problem ending. What? Because she was old? Because you wanted something but she wouldn't give it to you? Because you thought you could just take it?" She stepped back. "Believe me, I know how easy it is to take a life. It can happen in the blink of an eye. But I know the value of life, too, and that's something you didn't give a shit about, did you? The only value you saw in her was money, and when you thought she didn't have it, she was worthless. Like the garbage we found this in." She held up the bat. "But even then, you couldn't just throw it away, could you? You had to keep it. Just in case."

She seemed to run out of steam and Frost stepped in. Pulling the suspect to his feet, he pushed him towards the front of the house as he read him his rights.

"I'll ride back with you," she told him, handing him the bat and pulling the gloves from her hands with an audible snap. "I just gotta tell Maura."

"I'm here, Jane."

She spun and saw her standing at the corner of the house, a vision of calm in a turbulent sea of emotions. Light seemed to touch her hair in all the right places, and the hem of the dress fluttered slightly in the breeze. But it was the eyes that captured her, hazel invitations that offered nothing but comfort. Jane wanted to say all these things and more, but the first thing out of her mouth was a soft accusation.

"You promised to stay in the car."

Maura blinked. The words were obviously a surprise to her as well. "You were taking a long time. I was starting to worry."

Jane walked up and reached for her hands. "So it's not okay for an officer of the law, trained and in possession of a firearm, to go in without backup, but it's perfectly fine for you to do it?"

She conceded the point with a small downturn of her mouth. "I suppose I thought you were my backup."

Jane wrapped her arms around the smaller woman and revelled in quiet perfection. "I will always be your backup." She pulled back and apologized. "I'm sorry if you saw any of that. Not my finest hour."

Maura framed Jane's face with her hands. "Don't ever be sorry for being passionate about your job. I know this case meant a little more to you." She thought about the events of the last few days and smiled. "I think it meant more to me, too." She left a light kiss on the brunette's lips then said, "Safety protocol dictates that an officer of the law cannot transport a suspect without the presence of another officer. So you'd better go."

"I love it when you get all Policeman's Handbook on me." Jane reluctantly stepped back. "Can I stop by later?"

"You know you can. And you may."

"If I don't get anything else out of this relationship, I know my grammar will improve."

"Oh, I plan on offering so much more. Detective."

"And I'm the one who's incorrigible."

...

"She's like the Coffee Fairy, I swear!" Frost laughed when they stepped into the bullpen. Sure enough, placed directly in the middle of their desks was a steaming cup of coffee. "How come I didn't get a little note with mine?" he pouted.

"Because she writes them all in Latin," Jane said, cradling the cup up to her nose. "God, this smells delicious."

Frost made a face. "How do you know I don't understand Latin?

"Sicut patribus sit deus nobis."

"I didn't say I understood Latin; I just wanted to know how you knew I didn't." Pointing towards the note, he asked, "Did she really write that?"

Jane held his gaze for several seconds before waving her badge. "'God be with us as He was with our fathers'." She quickly dispelled his look of amazement. "It's on the badge, Frost."

He blew a snort of breath between his lips. "I knew that. I was just testing you."

Her phone buzzed, interrupting her retort. "Rizzoli."

"Detective Rizzoli. It's Matt Lancaster again."

Jane sat down. "How did you find out?"

Matt paused. "Uh, find out what?"

"Wait," she backtracked, "why are you calling?"

"Millie's lawyer found me. I'm not sure I believe it, but he said she left me everything," he said incredulously.

"You know, it's more than just the house."

"I know. It's… the lawyer emailed me the list. I know about the storage shed."

Jane smiled wistfully. "It's amazing, Matt."

"Once things settle down a bit, I think I'm going to call someone from Cooperstown. I'd like them to have it," he told her.

"You're donating it?" she asked.

"I'll probably keep a couple of things; ask Uncle Wally if there's anything he wants. But if it's even half as amazing as I think it is, people need to see it."

"She must have been very proud of you," Jane said.

"Hey," he said, returning to the start of their conversation. "Why did you think I was calling?"

"We got him, Matt," she answered proudly.

"What? Who?"

"We got a suspect in custody. I'm sorry to tell you it's your cousin, William."

"Wait." He was silent for a moment, then asked, "Aunt Julia's son? Bill?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"Oh, God," Matt said, "it's because I wouldn't shut up about the Ted Williams bat, isn't it? He thought she had it in the house and wouldn't give it to him."

"Listen," Jane replied firmly, "you are not responsible for anything he might have done. He can't use your words to excuse what he did. And I don't want you to feel guilty about anything, okay?" When he didn't answer straight away, she repeated, "Okay?"

Finally, he replied, "Okay."

"Good. Why don't you give me a call the next time you get into Boston? I'll let you know more about the case and give back those journals."

"You know… I think you should keep them."

"What? No, Matt. They belonged to her and now they belong to you."

He seemed to give the matter some thought. "Are you finished reading them?"

"God, no," she replied, her laugh rolling down the line. "I haven't even got to the Ted Williams part!"

"Then let's compromise- you hold onto them until you finished reading them. Then decide if you want to keep them."

"Don't you want them?" she asked, puzzled. "They must have some great memories for you."

"Sure. But they're all up here. In my head. And hey, if I ever want to re-read them, I know where they are." His voice softened. "And I think she would have wanted you to know the stories, too."

"Matt, I… thank you," she said warmly.

"Nah," he replied. "Thank Millie-Rose."

…..

The scene was familiar, yet entirely different all at once. Closing the door with hardly a sound, she stood and watched Maura in the kitchen. She was chopping something green, and her fingers moved in careful synchronized time with the knife. Her apron was so pristine Jane wondered why she bothered wearing it. A pot boiled on the stove and the voices of Red Sox commentators drifted in from the television. Bass' soft 'thump thump' as he strolled by made her look down and smile. She leaned against the door, eyes closed, revelling in the moment. When she opened them again, she couldn't hold the words back.

"I love you."

Maura's head jerked up and the knife stopped in mid-cut. "What did you say?"

"Don't make me say it again," Jane mock-pleaded, kicking off her boots. "You know I'm not good at it, especially when you're looking at me like…like that. Like a kid on Christmas Eve, with your puppy-dog eyes."

Maura wiped her hands on a dish towel and walked around the counter towards Jane. Without hesitation, she reached for the front of the taller woman's jacket and pulled her into a kiss. Firm, yet entreating. Giving, yet taking.

"Mmmm," Jane approved, bringing their hips together. "Maybe later, you can unwrap me."

She shook her head in the crook of Jane's neck. "That was horrible."

"But you love me," she smirked.

Leaving a trail of kisses along the brunette's jaw, she whispered, "I do love you."

They held each other's gaze until Jane felt her cheeks burn. "Anyway, whatever you're cooking smells amazing."

Smiling, Maura said, "It's just soup, but it's not ready. Why don't you take off your jacket? I recorded the game from last night, so you can watch it while I get the rest of dinner together."

"You recorded last night's game? That was awfully presumptuous of you, Dr. Isles."

"Well," Maura stammered, "it was an important game. And I thought...perhaps you'd like a copy for posterity. In the event David Ortiz set the record."

Jane's mouth twitched. "I have red marks on my neck because my girlfriend is orally fixated." She pressed her finger to Maura's lips when she tried to protest. "You have red marks on your neck because you're going all vasovagal. Just admit it; you planned ahead."

Try as she might, she couldn't deny it. "Fine. I planned ahead."

"See, was that so hard?" She left a kiss on the tip of her nose. "How long's dinner?"

"Oh, another 30 minutes or so? I just have to put it all together."

She turned Maura around and shuffled them into the kitchen. "Why don't you do that, I'll grab a beer, and you can come sit with me on the couch and watch Big Papi make history. Or not."

"Have you really been able to avoid knowing the outcome?" Maura asked as she scooped the chopped vegetables into the pot.

Jane popped the cap off her beer. "Not intentionally. But the case kept me from hearing about it. Sit."

When the blonde sat beside her, Jane shook her head. "Closer." Maura scooted tightly against her. "Closer."

"Jane, I'll be on your lap. What if your mother comes in?"

She shrugged and pulled the doctor to her. "Considering the position she caught me and Jill Burton in, she probably won't mind." Maura's sharp intake of breath, then her laughter, filled the room. Jane put down her beer bottle and paused the TV. "Now that I have you," she said, tightening her arms around the slender waist, "I have to ask. The chess piece. I tried and tried to figure it out. Even Frost gave it a shot. But I gotta tell you - I don't get it."

Maura wound her arms around Jane's shoulders and rested pressed her lips to her temple. "While some might say the king, what's the most important piece on the board?"

"The queen."

"Yes," Maura said. "Other pieces do an adequate job. Some more than others. But what's the first thing you try to do if you lose the queen?"

"Get a pawn promoted," Jane replied.

"Because it's hard to play chess without the queen. It can be done, but when all other pieces are gone and only the queen and king remain, you can still checkmate an opponent."

"You can still checkmate an opponent if you have a rook and a king," Jane informed her.

She poked the brunette in the ribs. "You're ruining my analogy. I suppose what I want you to know is, you're the most important piece in my life."

"Oh my God," Jane said, turning her head before her eyes gave her away. "You are the most romantic person I've ever met. And I have to compete with that? Now I have to buy flowers and organic chocolate and wine that comes from a 300-year old cellar in France and recite sonn-"

Maura's kiss made short work of her litany of complaints.

-fin.