Back in the morgue, the universe’s most unusually close chief medical examiner and homicide detective talk their
relationship case over a romantic dead body, per usual. Maura mentions Homer, the ancient Greek poet. Jane is more familiar with Homer, the guy who works at a nuclear power plant and likes doughnuts. See, opposites really do attract. Just ask Bert and Ernie.
A quick head space analysis of Jane shows that she is worried about turning into an old cat lady (read: gay panic). But Maura corrects her girlfriend and says she’ll be an old dog lady. Not all of us are cat ladies. Sheesh, stereotypes.
A bit of evidence from the clown case leads them to search the archives of the old case from the ’80s. Back then there were three other kidnap attempts before the boy who went missing. The new case comes back with the most simultaneously hilarious and terrifying composite suspect sketch ever.
I will have bad dreams about this. I am sending the bill for my therapy to TNT.
In a park called Denial, Jane and Col. Beard Force are having a picnic lunch. I like that Jane’s idea of a romantic lunch date still involves wearing her sidearm. Jane doesn’t want Casey to give up being a general for her. Casey doesn’t want Jane to give up loving Maura for him. Etc., etc., etc. He jokes about having a sex change. Dude, don’t laugh, that might actually help your chances.
Then he does some dumb thing where he pretends to measure Jane’s finger with a cigar band, but instead pulls a ring out all covered in pocket lint and hands it to her. Jane looks at it the way you look at a dead mouse your cat has just left at the foot of your bed. It’s a combination of feigned gratitude and internal horror.
She tells him she always thought she’d know how to respond when proposed to. No, Jane, you always knew how you’d respond when Maura proposes. See, this is what happens when people deny themselves happiness. Awkward proposals over ant-covered crackers and cheese.
At the Division One Café, Mama Rizzoli and Frost’s girlfriend, Neda, are going over a business plan to expand her healthy food empire. This subplot is mostly just a way for Maura to demonstrate her superior knowledge of Jane’s tastes and preferences. Mama R wonders aloud if her meatless meatballs will fool Jane. Maura knows better. I mean, it took her four years to get Jane to try kale. Baby steps, people.
The following conversation is on its surface Maura giving advise to Neda about choosing between a dream job in China or her dream boyfriend in Boston, but in actuality a plea for Jane to hurry up and face her feelings.
Neda/Jane surrogate: You every get what you wanted and not sure you want it anymore?
Translation: All my life I thought I wanted to get married to a man, but now that it’s happening I totally don’t want it.
Maura demurs at first, mumbling something about not being able to have it all. Has she been reading Lean In? But then she gets real.
Maura: You need to ask whether putting him before yourself is something you’re going to regret.
Translation: Jesus, Jane, come out already.
Jane returns from her lunch and fails to mention the glaring ode to her faux heterosexuality on her finger. Maura notices immediately, because like hell she wouldn’t notice her girlfriend wearing someone else’s engagement ring. Jane tells her that according to all the straight rom-coms she is supposed to be all giggly and Maura is supposed to be all squealy at this news.
Maura informs her she sees no reason to squeal. But, trust me, she is most definitely screaming on the inside. She then throws some serious shade at Col. Beard Force’s ugly-ass ring, just to feel a little better.
In between giving Jane tests results (paint from the clown’s mask which trace back to one seller, in case the plot interests you in the least), Maura tries to breezily ask Jane if she’s leaving her. Jane is like, “No, what? That’s the whole point of having a beard. To allow us to continue our relationship unabated.” Maura’s relief is palpable.
Jane says something about the world not being fair. Maura says something about a fair world meaning we all have one shoe and a piece of cardboard. I don’t really understand that analogy, but I’m going to assume the shoe is a Teva and the cardboard is leftover from vegan pizza ordered the other night. What? I make everything lesbian.
Jane tries to smooth things over with a little eye sex quickie. Maura’s elation is short-lived though, as the reality of the ring on Jane’s finger hits her. No. It’s nothing. JUST SOMETHING IN HER EYE.
Dammit, Jane. Now you’ve gone and done it. You made Maura cry. Just like any non-romantically involved straight person would do when told by her best friend she is getting married. Totally normal reaction and not indicative of her deep and unabated feelings of love for Jane. Maura walks out and as if her poor heart hasn’t already taken enough of a beating, Frost confronts her next. He is mad because of the advice she gave Neda, which was really for Jane. OK, not to get all Chris Crocker, but “Leave Maura alone!”