"Hi, Jane! Thank you for coming, please have a seat!"

Jane smiles nervously and takes the empty seat across from the Psychiatrist, trying to figure out the reason for her presence. Across from her, Doctor Maura Isles is sitting with her legs crossed, hands tight in her lap, not making eye contact.

"So, I'm sure you're wondering why you here, Jane, hm?" The Psychiatrist is tall and lean, with a salt and pepper goatee and piercing blue eyes. Jane remembers when she had to go through treatment with him after her second shooting.

She hadn't liked how perceptive he had been, how he seemed to know everything she was thinking without her even opening her mouth.

She doesn't remember his name.

Jane glances at Maura Isles again and then shrugs. "You told me I could help someone cope a little bit better," she says. "And I'm game for that."

"Right," he says. "I'm sure you remember Dr. Isles?"

Jane nods, trying to remember the woman sitting next to her as the person she saved, and not the woman who was unconscious in her arms.

The woman she was sure wasn't going to make it.

"Yeah," she says, turning to smile at Maura. "It's great to see you up and around again, Dr. Isles."

The doctor doesn't look at her, but after a moment, her mouth moves.

Jane leans closer. "Sorry?"

"You can call me Maura," she repeats a little louder. "I...thank you for coming. It's extremely nice of you to agree to come today."

"It wasn't a problem," Jane answers, still looking at Maura, hoping she can get the other woman to look back at her. "My squad's not on rotation this week, so I'm pretty free."

She waits, but no one speaks, and so after a long couple minutes of silence, Jane leans forward a little.

"So...I'm all for sitting in silence," she says, "but does someone want to just clue me in on why I'm needed for that?"

"Dr. Mantrell asked me a question during my last session." Maura's voice is still hushed, and she speaks quickly, as though trying to get everything out before someone interrupts her.

"I've...been...I've been having difficulty getting over what happened."

Jane nods. "Of course you have," Jane says automatically.

Maura's head jerks around to look at her, and she realizes that this could be misconstrued.

"No," she says quickly. "I just mean that it's completely understandable. You went through a challenging ordeal."

Maura has not stopped looking at her. "I was unconscious for much of it," she says. "You did the bulk of the work."

"No way," Jane breaks in. "First of all, you saw the blast coming, and you got yourself somewhere safe."

Maura drops her gaze. "I went deeper into the building," she murmurs.

"You found a structurally sound location. That was a big deal."

"I should have done something sooner. I should have called-"

"Hey," Jane doesn't check with Dr. Mantrell before reaching out to touch his patient on the arm. She jumps but doesn't pull away. "You saved thirty plus kids, Maura. That's not nothing."

Maura searches her face intently, as though looking to see if Jane truly believes what she is saying. Jane squeezes Maura's arm reassuringly.

"You did more than many doctors would do in your position. You were exceptionally brave."

Maura takes a breath. "I don't...care for double negatives," she says finally.

It takes Jane a moment to realize what she's talking about, but when she does, she can't help but laugh.

"Maura," Dr. Mantrell starts, but Jane cuts him off because he sounds like he is about to scold her.

"Okay," she says, squeezing Maura's arm again. "I can rephrase." she waits until Maura looks up at her again with her wide (beautiful) hazel eyes.

"What you did for those kids was everything," Jane says.

Maura swallows very hard. "Thank you," she manages. "That means - especially from you - that is very comforting."

Jane smiles, proud. "Good," she says. She pulls her hand away from Maura's arm, watching the doctor's eyes follow her hand.

"Listen, PTSD is a bitch, and nothing to be ashamed of. It-"

"I'm not ashamed," Maura says at once. "That is," she amends when the Psychiatrist clears his throat meaningfully. "I am not ashamed of the diagnosis. I'm...less than thrilled with how I've been coping."

"Don't be hard on yourself," Jane says, wondering if her past therapists have meant this sentence as earnestly as she does. "It's not easy."

Maura almost smiles at her. "I am used to challenges, detective."

The way the doctor uses her title gives Jane shivers, and she can't think of an answer.

"Dr. Isles," Dr. Mantrell breaks in. "I think we might tell Detective Rizzoli why you've asked her here."

The almost-smile fades, and Jane feels irrational anger at Dr. Mantrell for his part in erasing it.

"I...Dr. Mantrell posed a question at the end of one of our sessions," Maura says. "He asked me to think of the last time I felt safe, completely at ease, and as though nothing could harm me."

Jane nods, watching the doctor's cheeks turn a little pink.

"It was with you," Maura whispers finally. "It was when you - ah - it was when you carried me."

….

It doesn't matter how many times she runs these operations, the smoke always gets to her. She doesn't like the loss of control she feels when her team disappears into the haze.

She can hear them in her earpiece, she knows they can hear her instructions, but this does not do enough to calm her nerves.

After every Op, it takes her days to sleep through the night.

It takes her almost a week to stop looking and looking at everything, trying to memorize the details before the smoke closes in around her.

"Three down, left corridor, non-hostile, extraction underway."

"Copy. Frost, hold your position until Meyers is clear."

"Copy."

"I'm going to check Cor 3C, there's a supporting beam, so we might have some blast survivors."

"Unlikely."

"Can it, Crowe, we clear the whole thing. There're fuckin kids in here."

"Copy. Apologies Cap."

Jane finds the woman under the supporting beam, still breathing, still conscious, but pinned. Her left leg is bloody. Shrapnel Torn.

"Hi," Jane says, crouching down. She's already using the calm, everything's going to be fine voice. "Hey, can you hear me?"

Eyes blink in her direction, disoriented. "I managed to get all of the children down to lower levels," the woman tells her. "There aren't any left here."

And Jane eases forward and pulls the woman into her arms. "You're here," she says firmly. "I came to get you. How about we get out of here?"

"I can't walk," the woman says. "The blast, put something through my calf. I can't walk."

Jane hefts Maura up into her arms. "Lucky for you," she says as they head toward the exit. "I never miss a chance to lift."

…

"Rizzoli." Jane is still 80% asleep when she answers the phone. She's just coming off of a rotation that had her team out three times in five days, and she is running on fumes.

"J-Jane?"

Maura's voice makes Jane sit up straight. "Maura?"

She'd given the doctor her personal number after their second session, but the move had not been reciprocated. She assumed that Maura did not want to mix therapy with her personal life. She knows that the crying, shivering woman that Jane sees in the Psychiatrist's office is not the persona that the top Pediatric Surgeon in Boston wants to portray to the world.

But here she is, on the other end of the line, crying like the second time Jane picked Maura up, in Dr. Mantrell's office, her hands locking tight around the back of her neck, her blonde head tucking tight under Jane's chin.

"Maura? Are you okay?"

"I...can't see."

Jane kicks the sheet off of herself, rolling toward the side of the bed. "Yes you can," she says gently. "You can. It was just a dream."

She tries to get out of bed and trips over a stray pillow, tossing the phone in an attempt to catch herself.

"Jesus fuck, Shi- Ow!" she swears, half bear crawling after the phone and pressing it back to her ear.

Maura's breathing is faster than it was 10 seconds ago. "I can't see," she says, her voice small. "I'm so scared."

"I know, Mo," Jane says reaching blindly for a sweatshirt. "Tell me where you are."

"I'm in my house," comes the tiny reply.

Jane wants to roll her eyes. She also wants to use a SWAT vehicle to get to Maura's house as fast as possible.

"Where, Maura?" she asks as calmly as she can. "What's your address. I've never been there."

"Jane!" Maura says, as though they are in the same room and the brunette has done something alarming.

"Okay," Jane says, grabbing her work phone off the table. "Okay. I'll be there really soon, okay? I promise."

"I can't see," Maura repeats, but she sounds distant like she's put the phone down.

Jane flips hers to speaker, and powers on her Blackberry, still speaking the entire time. She doesn't really register what she's saying, just focuses on keeping her voice low and gentle.

Finally, after what seems like hours, her Blackberry beeps with two possible addresses. Jane surveys them both, and then finally decides on Beacon Hill.

She flips her iPhone off of speaker mode and puts it back to her ear. Maura is still there, and Jane realizes she's begun to say the mantra that Jane has taught her.

"PTSD is difficult. I did everything I could. I am not weak. I am strong."

"Yes you are," Jane interjects, sliding her feet into her boots by the door. "Yes, you are. I'm on my way, Mo, okay? You hang in there, beautiful."

"Jane," Maura says plaintively. "I need you."

The words go straight through her. She has trouble fitting her keys in the front door to lock it.

"I'm coming," she says, close to tears now herself. "Five minutes, Maura. Count to sixty five times, and then I'll be there."

"Promise?" Like a little girl.

"Double promise," Jane swears.

…

She lifts Maura bridal style, the same way she had the first time, and at once she can feel the doctor relax into her arms.

Jane has a strong urge to kiss the top of her head, and only resists by turning her head a little bit to the side.

Maura takes the opportunity to rest her head against her shoulder.

"Thank you," she murmurs. She sounds like she could fall asleep right there, Jane shifts her a little closer.

"You're safe," she murmurs. "You don't have to be scared."

"Mmm," Maura says. She's not really listening.

Jane looks to Dr. Mantrell for guidance, but he makes a gesture telling her to stay where she is, so she sways slowly on the spot, murmuring more words, and tries to fight her growing attraction to the woman in her arms.

She knows what it is like to be scared and alone and too proud to ask for help.

"You are really brave, Maura," she says gently. "Asking for help is hard, and you did it, and...that makes you brave."

Tears are falling onto the doctor's cheeks, dripping off the end of her nose onto Jane's shirt.

"You don't know," she murmurs. "You don't know what it means. That you do this."

Jane smiles. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I do."

….

The sun wakes Jane up. It's in an unfamiliar place, shining through strange curtains onto her face.

She goes to cover her eyes with her hand and realizes it is pinned down by a body.

Maura Isles is still asleep, entirely on top of Jane. She's breathing deeply, her dark blonde hair through her face, and Jane doesn't think she's ever seen anyone more beautiful in her entire life.

The Maura that met her at the door last night was dressed haphazardly in pajamas. She was make-up free and panicking, wide-eyed, and when Jane had opened her arms, she'd almost leaped into them so that Jane was holding her like a child.

"You came," She'd said against Jane's neck. "You're here."

Now, Jane looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to extract herself before the doctor wakes up. She doesn't think Maura will be happy to see her in her house, let alone in her bed, and even if there is no possibility that this woman will ever find her romantically appealing, Jane doesn't want to be barred from seeing her again.

Romantically appealing? Jane rolls her eyes at herself and then begins to slowly slide out of bed.

She is pulling on her sweatshirt when Maura rolls over and opens her eyes.

For a tense couple of seconds, they just stare at each other. Jane wants to kick herself for not stepping into the hall.

"Hi." It's all she can think of to say.

Maura's confusion transforms slowly into horror. "Oh, my God," she says, putting her hand over her face. "Oh, My God."

"I'm sorry," Jane says automatically. "I'm really sor-"

"What?" Maura uncovers her eyes to look at Jane. "Why are you apologizing?" She asks incredulously. "I should be the one apologizing! I called you!"

Jane lets herself relax, just a little bit. "Oh," she says. "No. I mean, yeah you did, but I wanted to come. I wanted to help."

Maura shakes her head, looking slightly horrified. "I can barely remember," she says slowly. "I must have been a mess."

Jane shrugs. "Everyone is a mess sometimes," she says, realizing that she is again parroting some of her previous therapists. God! Are therapists good people?

"Are you a mess sometimes, Detective Rizzoli?"

Jane laughs, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "If you'd seen me last night, trying to get here as fast as possible, you wouldn't need to ask that question."

Maura doesn't quite smile, but she looks back at Jane with wide, wondering eyes.

"You are different from anyone I have ever met," she says finally.

Jane raises her eyebrows, caught off guard. "You are," she says. "I'm just your normal, run of the mill cop."

"You come to my hour-long sessions, and you hold me in your arms," Maura says bluntly. "I have worked with cops in the past, and I do not believe that many of them would do so."

Jane doesn't have an answer to this. She looks down into her lap, rubbing her hands together.

"You know, I spoke to some of the children that you evacuated before you reached me."

Jane glances up and then away. "Oh yeah?"

"Yes," Maura says. "I wanted to know more about you before I asked you to meet me."

Jane nods, but there is a lump in her throat that keeps her from responding.

"You are different from anyone I've ever met," Maura repeats more firmly. "Thank you for coming here last night. You don't know what it means."

Jane snorts. "You say that a lot," she says. "'You don't know what it means.' But I do, Maura." She meets Maura's eyes, trying not to focus on how expressive they are. How beautiful. "I know exactly how you feel when you get trapped in those flashbacks. Last night, you kept telling me you couldn't see."

"I-" Maura begins to interject, but Jane shakes her head.

"No," she says. "I know what it's like. I know what that feels like. And...I know what it means to have someone...be there for you."

Silence.

Jane crosses her legs uncomfortably, trying to think of a smooth way to get up and leave when Maura's voice makes her jump.

"Last night," she says quietly, "You called me beautiful. I remember that."

Jane remembers too. She'd tried to tuck Maura into bed and then leave, but the doctor refused to let her go, and after a while she'd found herself sliding under the covers, wrapping the smaller frame in her arms again.

"I'm here," she'd whispered. "It's okay. You're okay, beautiful."

And Maura had caught her breath, going still. "You think I'm beautiful?" she'd asked.

And Jane, helpless to stop herself, had kissed Maura just under her ear, leaving her nose there for a long second.

"The most beautiful," she'd said.

"I'm sorry," Jane apologizes now.

"Are you?" Maura asks, and when Jane looks up at her, she sees that the other woman might be about to smile. Maybe.

Jane licks her lips. "No," she says truthfully. "I'm not."

Yes. Jane was right. Maura smiles brightly, putting an absent hand into her hair.

"Would you like to stay for breakfast, Jane?"

Jane stands, watching Maura push the covers of the bed back, and wonders who in their right mind would ever think of turning down such an offer.