A/N: Long time, yeah? I've been in sort of a rut with this one, but I finally got a few more ideas for it. Hope you enjoy!

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The first night at home wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. There were no screaming fits that had us running down the hall, no crying about not getting the baby back to sleep. Just an alarm set for every two hours so Maura could feed her.

And yeah, Maura said that the baby will generally just sleep and eat for the first few weeks, but….I'm just going to pretend it's because our kid is just superior or something—anything to give me a few bragging rights.

It's not even seven yet, but Maura hates being separated from Allie so much that she's already brought the baby in here and laid her between us on the bed. I prop my head up on my elbow and look down at her.

For now, she's awake and quietly laying there; her forehead wrinkled as she tries to focus on something, her mouth parted open and her hands—covered in those ridiculous looking no scratch mittens—are resting on her cheeks. I reach out and lightly touch her nose; she blinks and slowly turns her head towards me.

"She looks like you," Maura says in a sleepy lilt with an adoring grin on her face.

"Nah," I reach out across Allie to squeeze Maura's hand. "She's cuter."

"Give yourself a little credit, Jane. I've seen your baby pictures, remember?"

I laugh. The night Ma made her sit and go through every single photo album of me as a kid was pretty damn mortifying, and Maura brings it up any chance she can get.

"Yeah, don't remind me," I look back down at Allie, her black hair wildly sprouting everywhere and her face scrunches when she yawns. "But she's still cuter."

And then, just to add to the moment, Allie decides to grunt and proceeds to let out the worst sound she's made since she got here.

A sound that means it's my cue to get the hell out of here.

Maura sits up-practically jumping for joy over another poop diaper—and picks her up to carry her to the nursery. She clearly has this under control…no need for me to stick around. I get up and start walking downstairs to the kitchen.

"Jane?" Maura calls over her shoulder as she walks down the hall.

Shit. I know that tone. It's the you're not getting off the hook that easy again tone.

But no.

I am not getting roped into this yet.

I look over my shoulder as I keep walking down the stairs. "Decaf, right?"

"Jane."

And that's the you get over here or we are never having sex again tone and even I know better than to fuck with that one.

I groan and turn back around, following her into the nursery. My nose instantly scrunches as I watch Maura unsnap the onesie and open the diaper. "Ugh. That looks disgu—" Maura's head slowly lifts, eyebrows raised as far as they can. I clear my throat and nod as I steel myself. "It looks like… like something I can definitely handle."

Maura smugly grins, stepping out of the way so I can do this. I take a deep breath and try to keep Allie from squirming around.

I can do this without letting her roll off the table. Definitely. A diaper is no challenge for Jane Rizzoli. I take down armed gunmen. A little poop is not going to be my downfall. I can do this.

Well, maybe if I couldn't feel Maura's eyes boring into the back of my head. "Well, don't watch me."

"Why not?"

"It's weird."

Her eyebrow arches and her arms cross. "I'm weird?"

"No. Well yeah, you can be pretty weird, but I mean" I throw my hand out towards her, frustrated. "Just don't watch me, alright?"

She bites her lip to keep from smiling. "Okay."

The baby starts whimpering because the wipes are cold—okay, yeah, Maura told me to hook up the warmer last night and I forgot—and I'm starting to worry about not doing this as well as Maura because she's just naturally good at everything, especially this. I try to open the diaper without taking my other had from the baby, and hear a snicker from behind me.

"Maura, I can feel you judging me and I do not appreciate it."

"That doesn—"

I groan, shaking the diaper furiously to open it. God, I'm horrible at this. "Close your eyes, Maura!"

"Fine," she says through a laugh. "I'll go make the coffee so maybe you won't be so grumpy."

I scoff. "Yeah, well, you're stubborn."

"That's like the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?"

I don't even need to turn around to see the huge smile on her face. That was a good one and she knows it. Not replying to her—because she effectively finished that argument—I listen to her walk out and I finally get that damn diaper open.

It's all downhill from there; she stops whining as soon as I get it on and start to fasten the red and white dotted footed-onesie that snuggly fits her little body. I pick her up as gently as I can, her little head fitting in the crook of my arm perfectly. Like she was always meant to fit there.

"See, I didn't do so bad." I say, lightly smoothing down her hair and swaying from side to side. "I think it was a decent first attempt anyway. Can't really compete with your Mama though, can I?"

And at that, her head turns towards me and she starts rooting around like I'm the one with the goods to feed her with. Laughing, I lift her to rest on my shoulder. "You're barking up the wrong tree for that, little lady."

I cling to her as I walk down the stairs—I'm still afraid of dropping her down these things—and pass her to Maura in the kitchen and resume coffee making duty. "She's hungry."

Maura frowns. "Really? She ate less than an hour ago…"

"Yeah, but she's a Rizzoli," I retort, fumbling around with that damn coffee machine, "We like to eat."

"Hmm," Maura hums, walking towards the living room. "Looks like we'll just have a miniature Roly Poly Rizzoli on our hands."

I can't help but laugh at that. Maura's comebacks have gotten 100 times better than when we first met, and it makes me love her even more.

"Hey, do you want—" I cut myself off, as I look at the silver mug on the counter. It reminds me of what II brought home to give to Maura last night and forgot in the back of the car.

Fucking nightmares. Still managing to screw with my routines after all this time.

"Jane?"

The concern is clear in her voice as she calls out, and I shake my head as I start to walk to the front door, coffee all but forgotten. "Be right back."

After digging through all the shit in the back of the Rover—yeah, really need to clean that out before Maura sees—I grab the flat, square box messily wrapped with silver paper and take it back inside.

"I forgot to give it to you yesterday when we got home," I say, carefully sitting beside her on the couch to not jostle them around too much.

Maura takes it from me with her free hand and sets it on the couch beside her. "It's nothing big or anything…I just thought it'd be something you'd want to keep."

Maura looks up, smile on her face. "I'm sure it's wonderful.

Her fingers slowly trace over the edges as she tries to quietly pull the paper apart from the back. Finally, she manages to open it and flips it over, sharply inhaling and looking up with tears in her eyes. "Jane, that's…."

She leans into me, holding it in her free hand and the baby still feeding between us. The frame is silver to match the ones in the hall, and the matte is completely white spare for the middle where two tiny black feet prints are.

"How did you even manage to get this?" She asks, looking back down at it.

Putting my arm around her shoulders, I pull her, them, closer into my side. "I gave it to the nurse before they stamped her for her birth certificate. They did this before they cleaned the ink off."

"I love it," she says, her voice thick. "So much."

"And I love you so much," I say, leaning over and kissing Maura's temple. Then I reach out and brush my thumb along Allie's cheek as she continues to eat. "And I love you too, little champ."

Maura lets out the smallest laugh. "Little champ?"

"What? Not good?"

Her eyebrow rises in response. Clearly not a nickname she agrees with.

Laughing, I lean over and kiss her lips. "We'll work on it."

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Thanks for reading, as always (: