Chocolate eyes, tainted with just the faintest smudge of emerald, fluttered open warily to the ominous and heavy darkness. An agonized groan filtered through her coarse lips as she vainly attempted to rise onto her feet, yet, the seething burn of pain radiating throughout her body immediately halted the movement. She felt numb and fatigued as her flailing, petite frame stilled back upon the cold floor, her vision swiveling and sporadically blotching in desperation to adjust despite the lack of light. She could feel the warm lucidity of blood trailing downward from her temple, as well as taste and roll its metallic bitterness about her tongue.

Where was she? What had happened?

Just vaguely could she recall partaking in her early morning jog, a particularly flat and safe route that consisted of about 4 miles around the neighborhood. The air had been remarkably gentle and cool in contrast to the intoxicatingly humid afternoons, and with little aches or issues to be had, she'd sustained her lax pace as she neared the two mile mark. However, rather than have an uneventful and relatively calm morning as usual, she'd happened to stumble upon an older man coiled about the ground. Sweat smoldering his skin, face scrunched tightly, she'd immediately stopped and kneeled in genuine sincerity to provide emergency aid. She'd quickly surmised that he was exhibiting symptoms of a heart attack, and just as she reached for her phone to dial 911, she suddenly experienced a tantalizing shock that crippled and subdued her senses. Her body wilted, and her phone slithered languidly from her grasp as did her consciousness.

And now, unfortunately, she was here; utterly confused and wounded, with ankles and wrists bound securely by a splintery rope that chaffed her skin.

Inwardly, she marveled in anger at the irony, at how her naivety and humane prospective as a doctor had resulted in her horrid misfortune. Sure, she theorized, she could've continued onward with her run, and could've remained completely insensible toward a writhing man upon the concrete. Yet, she acknowledged the aspect that in reality, despite how desirable, but incredibly cruel her imaginary scenario was, that the decision would've weighed heavily on her conscious. For when all was said and done, she was a medical examiner; a woman who after tedious nights of studying and completing asinine exams, had made an oath to help all those in need.

Of course, if Jane had been incorporated into the situation, she probably would've insisted that her moral philosophies could definitely make an exception against a sadistic asshole.

Her reminiscing on the details depicting her situation was interrupted by the loud hum of approaching footsteps, which resulted in her breath to apprehensively hitch. Whoever was responsible for her injuries, as well as imprisonment, was undoubtedly returning to continue what was previously started, and more likely than not, she'd have no choice but to be subjected to their callousness. The question, of course, on whether or not she'd manage to arise from this ordeal unscathed was a daunting presence that diluted her mind. For as it was, Maura Isles, Boston Medical Coroner, was tremendously terrified, and immensely feared for her life; especially when considering that a particular detective was not at her side, gun drawn and finger upon the trigger.

And although she could pray and fabricate a mantra of desperation to an unknown deity in hopes of Jane magically appearing, she realized that she was very much on her own. The assault and kidnapping had occurred within the early hours of morning, obscured by the darkness that had yet to be illuminated by the upcoming dawn. And with bystanders nonexistent due to the said early hours, no one would've witnessed the incident; which would ultimately result in her coworker's bewilderment upon noticing her unusual and unrequested absence. Korsack and Frost would most likely attribute her missing presence to a much needed day off, since sadly, she practically lived within the lab. Fortunately, however, Jane would be quick to acknowledge her absence, and immediately begin investigating her disappearance.

Yet once more, the pessimistic voice within her consciousness continued to question, would Jane be able to find and save her in time?

She has to… she just has to… she's my only hope…

The rust that encrusted the hinges of the door to the small room squealed in protest upon being forcefully thrust open, and Maura could feel the blood flowing through her veins still. Her quarry was tall and apparently well built, and although the light remained off, she found herself quivering at the immense silhouette lingering before her. Even as her adversary began to resume their approach, footsteps precise and heavy, she found herself futilely squirming away as her mind made one last plea:

Please Jane… save me….

24 Hours Before

Monday's were never a particular favorite for Jane Rizzoli, namely because it was due to the fact that they were just too damn slow and tiresome. Hell, even the term annoying could be an accurate label as well. For over the weekend, a majority of the cops either had time off, or even slackened should they remain on the clock. And such negligence, unfortunately, resulted in an abundance of unresolved cases to be dealt with, whether it be of petty theft or domesticated and/or sexual assault related homicide. To further worsen the Boston Detective's agitation, all present employees within the office come Monday morning would be rigidly reluctant to even peruse the files. Korsack would be lazily situated within his chair, feet propped upon his ghastly unorganized desk, cobalt eyes vaguely digesting the latest news within The Inquirer.

And Frost? Hell, he may be loyal and physically strong, but within the early hours of any morning, Monday in particular, he was profoundly useless. Often when striding into the office would she find him keeled over his desk, head cradled within the palm of his hands as his chocolate eyes wearily, yet vainly, attempted to remain open. It was only once she'd intentionally thrust her paper work or bag loudly upon her desk that he'd bolt upright and rouse to alertness; his lips coiling into a sheepish smile as the faintest flush of crimson tainted his cheeks. Of course, despite the apparent defects each one of her officers suffered in the morning, she had to admit that they all contributed efficiently toward solving a case once a fiercely lit fire was put under their asses. And more often than not, without a guilty conscious, she'd be the one to ignite the said flames to spur them into action.

Fortunately, the only employee that was flame intolerant was Miss Maura Isles, the Boston Medical Examiner that appeared each morning promptly on time with little complaining to be had. Ever so eager and chipper, Maura would enthusiastically greet Jane while hovering over a corpse, her gloved, latex fingers tediously sewing up incisions on her latest autopsy patient while informing her of some Wikipedia related mumbo jumbo. Ever politely would the detective vaguely listen, often subjecting some crude, sarcastic remark that elicited an eye roll or a countering fact. A laugh, however, was always shared between the two women before moving on toward more pressing matters, and despite how tiresome their shared ritual could be, Jane lately had found it to be more of a refreshing routine that she'd happily indulge within from day to day.

So with this in mind, the detective had a lighter bound within her step as she walked into the medical lab that morning, two coffees in hand as a testament to her happy and ever so generous mood. Yet, much to her dismay, when she'd strode into the said lab expecting a gleeful Maura, she instead nearly choked on the abnormally strained and anxious atmosphere surrounding the said examiner. What's more, what staggered Jane the most was the irritated, purple skin that clung beneath the darkened, chocolate eyes of Maura, and how such dexterous hands that normally moved with the utmost grace appeared to tremble and languidly dip as if an invisible weight had been fastened to her wrists. At that moment, standing mere feet behind the doctor, Jane quickly surmised that'd it take more than one cup of coffee to arouse Maura from her stupor. Hell, she was even considering extending her own cup as well.

"Morning Doctor Isles." She announced, and with slight amusement did she witness Maura jump in surprise at the sound of her voice.

Yet, ever so polite, Isles pivoted promptly on her heels toward the intrusive sound, her lips tugging into a faint smile.

"Good morning Detective Rizzoli." She replied, and inwardly, Jane grimaced at the exhaustion that plagued the undertone of her friend's voice.

"I didn't realize you were starting to do night shifts…" the detective murmured, the edge of her tongue sarcastic and playful so as to lighten the asphyxiating dark mood.

However, her attempt was in vain as Maura merely sighed and resumed her work, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her tensed and weary muscles.

"I didn't either, but I received a call about a body that'd been found down at the harbor." She responded, and as Jane finally decided to approach her fatigued colleague, she observed the doctor tiredly sewing up an incision upon the victim's throat.

The detective couldn't subdue the anger coiling her brow.

"Why wasn't I called?" she demanded, her voice conveying her annoyance despite the tremendous effort to keep her tone even.

"There was a detective already on site. All they needed was a coroner." Maura told her, a disturbing indifference echoing from her words.

"And you work hard enough anyways Jane. I decided to forgo the call at 2 am in the morning so that you could rest."

In all honesty, Maura's concern radiated through Rizzoli's core at immense volumes, and so strong was the vibration that a sincere smile immediately unraveled upon her lips. Yet, despite how selfless and compassionate the gesture was, Jane still couldn't subside the agitation that bubbled deep within the interior of her stomach.

"You work tirelessly too Maura." Jane countered, and as she set down the doctor's coffee beside the panel of various tools, she herself indulged in her heavily sugared French vanilla cappuccino.

"And by the looks of you, I'd say that you're due for an off day."

This roused a scoff from the M.E.

"The dead don't wait Jane. Forensic evidence that is here now may not be later."

"Well then, just wrap them up in a Ziploc baggy and come back to 'em."

As asinine as the concept sounded aloud, Maura inwardly considered the tactic briefly before shaking her head and chuckling.

"I wish it could be that simple Jane, but it isn't." she spoke, and the firmness behind her weary words confirmed to Rizzoli that, unfortunately, she wasn't going to budge.

"I'll be fine, I promise."

Jane could only inwardly scoff upon that remark. Promises were words cultivated of sincerity, a testament of virtue and will power toward a certain commitment or statement. And despite Maura's insistence, the detective ultimately knew better, for the fatigue weighing greatly within the doctors words betrayed her resolute intentions. However, Jane acknowledged that once her colleague was set on something, little could be done in terms of deterring her from the action. Hell, it was painful enough just to get her to lie about evidence in order to rouse a confession from a suspect! She knew better than to badger, as Maura had so simply labeled it once, since the M.E. was already in such an exhaustive state. A wrathful coroner was definitely not a poison Jane would care to try.

So with a heavy sigh, she allowed the doctor an empty and pointless victory.

"Fine, if you say so…" the Boston native mumbled, her bottom lip jutting out just slightly to convey her pout.

"But if you're gonna continue to torture yourself, you might as well fill me in on who the new woman in your life is."

The snide remark intended to rouse a laugh worked beautifully as Maura did such, her smile, for once, reaching and resonating within her chocolate eyes.

"Her name is Kasey Morgan, a 23-year-old college student that attended Cambridge." The coroner replied in a matter-of-factly tone.

"I thought you'd know since detective Mackenzie dropped off the case file on your desk this morning."

Crimson flushed Jane's accented cheeks as she offered a sheepish smile toward a skeptical Maura.

"It's Monday, sue me if I'm a little slow to warm up yeah?" she groaned, her lips eagerly targeting the cusp of her cup of coffee.

"Which is exactly why I didn't bother calling you last night." Maura stated indigenously, and the blunt yet true comment had nearly caused Jane to choke due to the menacing growl that crawled up her windpipe.

Once she'd recovered from almost drowning from her coffee, Jane retorted with a malicious glare.

"Gee, thanks M, love you too…" the detective snarled, which resulted in the doctor to merely respond with her own mischievous smirk.

"Well, I don't know all of the details, but I can tell you what I've gathered from her body." Maura told her, and the anger that was once smearing Jane's gorgeous complexion soothed over as her brow piqued in attentiveness.

"Give me the diagnosis doc."

Inhaling a weary breath to somehow assess her thoughts, Maura's gaze locked intently onto Jane's.

"I found two small marks behind her ear, which leaves me to suspect that she was perhaps tazed or sedated with some sort of syringe."

The Boston detective leaned forward as Maura's maroon, latex fingers gently lifted the victims head and titled it ever so slightly in order for her colleague to see the vague marks.

"I won't know for sure though until the tox-screen results come back. Lacerations on her wrists ankles suggest that she was bound in order to keep from moving around. Fibers I found left on her skin will confirm what type of material was used once I look at them closer."

Jane resumed an upright posture as she nibbled lightly on her bottom lip, her dark, auburn eyes observing both the data and physical evidence before her.

"So, our victim was sedated and bound, obviously an overused MO for kidnapping…" the detective muttered, the analytical undertone of her words conveying the gears turning within her head.

"Where did you say she was found again?"

"Kasey was discovered in an abandoned warehouse down in the harbor." Maura replied promptly.

"According to detective Mackenzie, a couple who'd been slightly intoxicated and seeking sexual release stumbled upon her body."

As hard as she tried, Jane couldn't subdue the laughter that escaped her lips from Maura's response.

"Sexual release? For the love of God Maura, just say they were about to do the no pants dance!"

She roared, and the bewildered expression marring the doctors beautiful complexion upon her particular wording had only made her laugh harder.

"Well it is!" Maura declared defensively.

"Sexual intercourse between two people is a healthy way to decrease stress and blood pressure, and leaves one with a euphoric feeling of happiness and—"

"Yes yes Doctor Wikipedia, sex is wonderful, I get it." Jane interjected, her hand waving so as to dismiss the doctors sex related lecture.

"So essentially, a drunken couple stumbles into a warehouse, wanna do the hokey pokey, but find the body instead. Are they still detained?"

Her face still coiled into a scowl at Jane's terminology, and perhaps even the fact that she'd been so rudely interrupted, Maura merely shrugged in response.

"Not sure. I believe detective Mackenzie mentioned something about holding them for public intoxication and trespassing."

The detective nodded in acknowledgement before swallowing the last drop of her coffee.

"Alright. I'll go see what I can get from those two. Call me if anything comes up."

Jane was about to walk off when Maura abruptly made a grab for her. Fingers firmly clenched upon her forearm, the detective gave the M.E. a bewildered glance.

"What? What's wrong?"

"There are injuries that I found, that… have made me question what happened to this young woman…" Maura drawled, her words dripping from her tone in a precise manner, to perhaps, cushion an upcoming blow.

However, if there was a punch to be had, Jane was utterly clueless as to what it was as she merely stood there gazing at her colleague perplexed.

"Okay, and…? What'd you find?" the detective pried, and as Maura pulled her forward to the edge of the examination table, the doctor's grip unwove from Jane's arm.

"While doing the autopsy, I discovered multiple rib fractures…" she began, and as Jane leaned forward to observe, her auburn eyes followed Maura's latex fingers lightly trace over the purplish abrasions that lingered on Kasey's sides.

"In fact, so much force was applied, that one of the ribs broke off and penetrated her light lung. Also, I found long lacerations imbedded within her back. The longest two extended from just above her shoulder blade, to the small of her spine. The metacarpals of her ankle were shattered, and all her toes were broken. Furthermore—"

"Okay, Maura." Jane interrupted, her eyes shifting from the body onto the weary identical orbs of her friend.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Maura inhaled a deep breath as she shakily returned Jane's intense gaze.

"She was tortured Jane. This poor girl was tortured."

Hello hello! I too have fallen victim to the wonderfulness that is Rizzoli and Isles, and after watching all current episodes thus far, I felt it was time to perhaps post something. So, here it is! This story is a spontaneous idea that hit me after watching clips for the upcoming episode, so I apologize if it sounds a little off or weird. Just going with gut here. Read and review to let me know how it goes, and if I should continue on!

All my love!

And Happy Labor day!