Author's note: back from WIFI-less Greece; here comes the sequel to Haumea, daily updates as usual (you know the deal), enjoy...!

Chapter One: Four Months Old

Ten minutes. It had been ten minutes since she and Jane had put the girls into their cribs – in the nursery – and that a strange silence had taken possession of the house. Even the wall in front of her seemed bare, suddenly. What could she say? They had got used to the reflection of the multicolored tortoises of the lampshades on it and the soft music playing in the background.

The sight of their daughters only a couple of feet away from their own bed.

Uncomfortable, Maura swallowed hard and frowned. Gasp of horror. There – on the floor – lay one of Lucie's pacifiers. It must have fallen down when they had moved the cribs back to the nursery.

"Jane, we have a problem." Clutched to her wife's arm, Maura squinted her eyes at the object and bit her lips to prevent sobs from coming out.

On the other side of the bed, the brunette wasn't doing any better than the medical examiner. Lost in the same state of confusion, she kept on staring at the wall; unable to move an inch. Guilt had crept into her mind as soon as they had decided – upon a common agreement – to finally make Alba and Lucie sleep in their own bedroom. As much as specialists affirmed it was never too early and it all depended on the parents' desire to find back a semblance of intimacy, she couldn't help feeling that strong surge of shame whenever she thought about it.

"What is it?" Worried, Jane turned her head around and looked at Maura before wincing in pain as the honey blonde's nails dug into her arm. "Hey, I'm not a piece of meat. Stop checking if I'm done."

"Number three is on the floor." Quick motion of the head – eyes widened in panic – in direction of the door.

If they had learned something about raising twins, it had to be the amount of clothes and objects the situation required to the point they had started numbering most of them to not lose track of any. And there lay pacifier number three, cruelly mocking their negligence at 10.30pm.

"Oh no." Jane's voice resounded low – shaking – in the silence of the night. That meant Lucie – the crying queen whose lung capacity surprised to Maura – would spend the night with only two pacifiers.

And two weren't enough.

With apprehension and care, they both got up and grabbed the object of their fears before casting a glance at the corridor. What were they supposed to do, now? Risking a journey to the nursery with the possibility to wake them up or shamefully let their four-month-old daughter deal with the fact that – for once – she would have to do with two pacifiers only?

Maura sighed and ran a hand through her hair in defeat. If Angela were there, she would laugh at them before telling them they were too soft and genuine. But then was it their fault if Lucie cried whenever she didn't have three pacifiers by her side?

Come on, Isles. This is a sign. Be strong and let go.

Not much convinced by her own inner voice, Maura grabbed the pacifier – went back to bed – and put it down on her bedside table before taking a deep breath. Back to the contemplation of the wall.

"But..." Taken aback by the gesture, Jane retreated to the bed and slip under the blanket. If she had decided to play the cool mom card in public, things were quite different in the intimacy of their life. She was weak. Way too weak.

"They need to learn." Nodding in determination – yet completely unconvinced – Maura rested her head on her wife's shoulder and closed her eyes for long seconds.

The night would be long.

And stressful.

"What are we supposed to do, now?" Sleeping didn't even seem to be an option. Gosh you're utterly ridiculous, Riz'.

Why? Why had they decided to make them sleep in the parental suite in the first place? If they had stayed in the nursery right from the start then they wouldn't have felt bad now. The truth was that – after long weeks spent at the hospital – they had tried to catch back on time and subconsciously or not clutched to their daughters at any cost.

Too much obviously.

The contact of Maura's warm lips on her neck made her jump of surprise, stirring up old sensations she had long forgotten now. But instead of abandoning herself to them, Jane widened her eyes in horror and stared at Maura in disbelief.

"Sex? Really?" There's no need to hiss like that, Rizzoli. Calm down, dammit. But as she turned on a side to take the honey blonde in her arms, another question rose in her head and she swallowed hard as the words passed her lips timidly. "Are you sure? Are you ready?"

They hadn't had sex since the birth of the twins. The situation had been such that their couple life – or whatever was left of it – had been put into parenthesis. Besides, Maura had had a c-section and she hadn't felt well for a long time. How long were they supposed to wait? Jane swore quietly for not having checked anything regarding this on the web.

But Maura nodded; her hazel eyes locked in her wife's dark ones. A peaceful nod preceeding a long and eager kiss, the kind they hadn't shared for a very long time. Caresses and sighs – warm lips and short breaths – leading to a well needed intimacy they slowly enjoyed finding back.

"I missed you..." Maura's whisper died against Jane's ear as the brunette let her hands slide on the scientist's hips – passing underneath the satin of her negligee – before discarding the delicate piece of clothing.

The gesture made Maura gasp and she instinctively took her distance from Jane's arms.

"I'm sorry... Did I hurt you?" The Italian was in panic. In pure panic. Her wife had taken her aback, she wasn't ready for it and could feel the iciness of fear run through her veins; feeding her heart that beat too fast. Were her breasts too sensitive? Did her scar still hurt? And if so, what about the rest?

"No, you didn't. It isn't that." Blushing – obviously feeling embarrassed – Maura looked down and avoided Jane's gaze at all cost. She had assumed that making love would help them to relax as well as find back a semblance of normality in their very baby-oriented life but she had forgotten a very important point in all this.

"Then what is it? Maur'... Look at me!" With gentleness, Jane grabbed her wife's chin to force her to look up. The blonde seemed to have succumbed to painful thoughts. She wasn't going to cry, was she?

"I am fat."

Oh God. Jane rolled her eyes – prevented herself from snapping Maura's head for scaring her like that – and wrinkled her nose.

"What on Earth? You're the sexiest woman alive." As if to prove her point, Jane caressed the honey blonde's thigh and planted a kiss on her bare shoulder blade.

The medical examiner hadn't lost all her pregnancy weight yet – which was perfectly normal – but the truth was that Jane had also got used to these curves she now liked a lot. Really a lot. Without waiting for a reply, she began to trace a path of kisses down Maura's throat while her hands travelled up her body. They met as they reached the blonde's breasts before accompanying her mouth down to her stomach and legs.

Jane froze, nonetheless aware of the arousal her ministrations had stirred up on Maura. "I don't dare to... I don't dare. I don't want to hurt you." Turning red as a brick, the Italian cleared her voice and forced a nervous smile. What a team, seriously. Maura thinks she's an elephant and you're afraid to touch her where she needs it. Grand.

"It has been four months, Jane. My perineum is just fine. I won't fall down into pieces. Just... Don't be too rough...? Or stick to the rest." Maura made a face. So much for being romantic.

She had no issue to understand Jane's apprehension but she did feel ready. She wanted it. They had spent a very relaxing summer day with Lisa – Guadalupe – and Haumea in Boston Common. Not a single argument had darkened the evening and they had peacefully had dinner in the patio, rocked by the warm breeze of July.

The night was perfect. Perfect for it.

Jane nodded. Both hands on Maura's hips. Now that was quite the right moment for an existential question, Riz'. You're basically between her legs and paralyzed by fear. This is ridiculous. Really. Trying to ignore the embarrassment of her uncertainty, she let her lips wander back up her wife's body until she found her mouth in an eager kiss.

Slowly – very slowly – her left hand caressed Maura's side before plunging in the depth of her thigh with delicacy.

Then Lucie started crying.

"Of course." Nodding to nobody but herself, Jane rolled on her side – ran a hand through her hair – and cast an amused glance at Maura who didn't seem to appreciate much the abrupt ending of what she had started.

"They won't get the best of my sexual life. No way." The honey blonde got up with determination – grabbed the pacifier – and walked out of the bedroom in direction of the nursery completely naked. But ten minutes later, she reappeared with both cribs and settled them back against the wall.

Pouting, she sat back in bed and shook her head at the scene. "They own us, Jane. They own us..."

Lucie and Alba 1 – 0 Jane and Maura