"Jane, I'm sorry I'm making you drink wine during the game. "

"No, it's okay. If we were watching the Red Sox, I might have a problem with it, but this is the College World Series. I can deal with wine."

The women sat in silence watching the next batter run the count to full before finally watching a called third strike.

"Did I ever tell you that my Pop took me to the College World Series once?" Jane said motioning to the television screen.

Maura turned on the couch to look at Jane more fully. "No, you never mentioned that. How old were you?"

Jane thought back to that June summer day. It must have been over 20 years ago, but it felt like it was last week. "I must have been around 16 at the time. Pop was going to Omaha for a plumbing convention. He never went to those types of things, but he decided to go since he could squeeze in a game during the trip. It was one of those bucket list items for him, going to the series."

"Did your brothers go?" Maura asked. It was rare that Jane talked about her father. Since he left Angela, Jane had avoided the subject of her dad at all costs.

"No, they didn't. We couldn't afford to take the whole family, only one kid. I don't think my brothers ever forgave him for picking me." Jane smiled at the memory of their reactions at the time. The boys were so jealous of her. She held the wine glass up for a moment, swirling the dark red liquid without even realizing it before taking a sip.

"That must have made you feel really special…for him to have picked you," Maura said softly, not wanting to pull Jane out of her reverie.

"Yeah…yeah, it did." Jane set the glass back down on her coaster and rubbed her hands on her jean covered thighs.

Jane had welcomed Maura into her life fully, sharing her crazy, overbearing Italian family with her. She'd been there through the drama with Tommy, the divorce and all the birthdays. She's heard most of the embarrassing childhood stories about Jane and been present through all the loud, boisterous moments at Sunday dinners. But this was private.

Jane took a breath before continuing. "It was special. It was something that my dad and I had together, you know? The memory was for only us. I'll never forget that day. We sat side by side and talked. We just took it all in. No little brothers butting in, Ma wasn't there to tell us we were staying out too late. It was just a perfect day. It was like we were the only two people on the planet."

"I didn't know you were such a fan of the Series. You've never mentioned college baseball before tonight."

The detective turned on the couch to see the doctor more fully, sliding her left leg up on the couch and stretching her left arm out on the back of the sofa, her fingers just inches from Maura's right shoulder.

"I know. I've never watched another college game since that first one. Not until tonight." Jane said, looking into the hazel eyes across from her.

"Why? You enjoyed the first one so much. Why wouldn't you watch any other games?"

Jane studied the doctor's face in front of her. She knew it was impossible to lie to her. Maura could always figure her out. She knew when Jane wasn't being forthcoming…when she was holding back. Jane closed her eyes a minute, feeling the sting of emotion welling behind them. Don't cry. Don't fucking cry right now. She paused for a moment before opening her eyes again, only to find concerned ones staring back at her.

"It's nothing…I…I'm sorry." Jane reached for the glass and took a healthy gulp of the wine. She knew it wasn't appropriate, but at this point she needed something to distract her from the emotions welling up inside her.

The doctor leaned in to Jane and tenderly rubbed the other women's knee. "It's okay. What's bothering you?" the doctor asked, concerned about her friend. It was rare that Jane let anything as simple as an old memory affect her this much. Maybe she missed her father more than she let on? There's no shame in that.

The detective placed her hand over the soft one on her knee and patted it gently. Jane sniffed back a tear as she smiled at the other women. "It's nothing. Just good memories," she said with a small nod of her head.

I picked you. I picked you…and you don't even realize it.

Author's Note-

Sorry this is kind of boring and depressing. Not at all like my other story. I just happened to go to the CWS last week and it brought up some old memories. Had to spit this out to clear the mind.

RIP dad.