Disclaimer: The characters of Rizzoli & Isle belong to Tess Gerritsen and the powers that be at TNT.
Warning: Contains spoilers for the episode, "The Beast in Me".
Author's Note: I've decided to branch out from my Alex/Olivia SVU comfort zone...hope you like it.
Detective Jane Rizzoli picked absently at the label on her beer bottle as her mind drifted to the slain body of Irish mob boss, Tommy O'Rourke. She remembered the images in the photograph that had been pinned to his chest by the ice pick driven through his heart and instantly thought of Maura Isles.
Dr Maura Isles was the smartest woman she had ever met and easily the most intriguing. The forensic pathologists brain worked like a super computer with a seemingly endless wealth of knowledge that rivaled even the fastest search engine on the internet.
Jane had studied her friend closely as she examined the mobsters body and when Maura asked the trio of watching detectives who had tipped off her birth father, Patrick Doyle, she had calmly replied, "Not me, you told me not to," and quickly shifted her gaze to Korsak.
Jane lifted the bottle to her parted lips and blew out a weary sigh before taking a long drink of the cold liquid. She placed the bottle back on the breakfast counter and rocked backwards on the stool, balancing precariously on the rear two legs as she tried to absorb the new information about her complex friend.
Urgent knocking interrupted her thoughts, forcing her to tilt forward and move off the high stool. She slid expertly on sock clad feet across the polished floor to the apartment door and swung it open, ignoring the barking Joe Friday in the corner of the room.
Jane shook her head, "What?" she asked, furrowing her brow.
Maura strode purposefully into the apartment, moving past Jane towards the sofa where she began to pace slowly back and forth with her arms folded and her head bowed. Joe Friday's head dropped as she recognized the visitor and resumed her languorous grooming regime once more.
"Did you call him?" Maura clarified, lifting her head and watching Jane as she closed the door.
Jane turned and met her inquisitive gaze, "No," she answered.
Maura peered at her intensely, analyzing her features with a critical eye, "Then who did?" she asked quietly.
Jane exhaled loudly, "I don't know," she replied as she moved past her, "But I'm glad somebody did," she added honestly.
"Killing Tommy O'Rourke was never an option," Maura said crisply, following Jane to the breakfast counter and hopping up on to the opposite stool.
Jane avoided her piercing gaze and focused on the peeling label, "Maura…" she began and lifted her dark eyes cautiously, "…if he hadn't been killed, others would have come after you…they wouldn't have stopped until you were dead," she finished somberly.
"You don't know that," Maura argued, folding her hands neatly on top of the counter.
Jane smiled, "Yes I do..." she paused, sliding a hand across the counter and resting it lightly on top of her friends', "…and so do you," she said, nodding her head slowly.
Maura looked into dark eyes and swallowed, "I'm responsible for that man's death," she whispered.
"That man is responsible for countless, innocent deaths across Boston, we'll all sleep a little safer tonight knowing he's off the streets."
Maura shifted her hands and laced their fingers together, studying the long dexterous digits of the dark haired detective, "Dolichostenomelia," she commented absently.
" I do not!" Jane barked, pulling her hand away and placing them both out of sight on her knees.
Maura snorted softly, "You have long, elegant, graceful fingers," she replied.
"I know what Dollytoastermagnolia means…" she said, glancing down at her lap, "I was this height when I was twelve, ma read an article in the paper about a teenager with Marfan's Syndrome and panicked, took me straight to a doctor," she said, shaking her head and smiling, "It took him an hour to convince her I was just long limbed and was nothing to worry about."
Maura grinned, "She's quite a woman," she said, picturing Angela Rizzoli dragging a reluctant Jane to the doctor's office.
Jane rolled her eyes and lifted her beer, draining the contents in one long swallow. She slid off the stool and moved over to the refrigerator, "Wine?" she offered, already reaching for a bottle.
"Please," Maura nodded as she stood and removed her jacket, draping it casually over the stool before moving to the sofa. She settled into her favorite corner of the couch and turned her head as Jane approached. She smiled warmly as she accepted the offered glass and took a tentative sip, "Mmm, Chablis Beauroy 2006," she stated confidently, savoring the flavor that lingered on her lips.
Jane sat down and laughed softly, "You oughtta know, you brought it over," she replied, taking a healthy swallow.
Maura placed the glass on the table as she tilted her head to the right and smiled, "If it were up to you we'd drink nothing but beer," she quipped, leaning back into the cushions.
"What's wrong with that?"
Maura laughed, "You're such a cop," she teased.
Jane sat the glass on the table and nodded, "And proud of it," she beamed.
"I wonder what I would have become if I hadn't been given up for adoption," she pondered wistfully.
Jane shifted in her seat and placed a hand on Maura's knee, "With your IQ…probably President," she said seriously, holding Maura's gaze.
Maura snorted again and placed her hand over Jane's, "Or an astronaut," she added smiling.
"Knowing you, you'd probably have done both," she drolled.
Maura looked down at their joined hands, "My birth mother is alive and out there somewhere," she said, glancing nervously at the dark haired woman.
Jane nodded, "We could try and get access to the adoption records, now that we know why they were sealed," she suggested.
Maura shook her head, remembering Patrick Doyle's words, "No. I wouldn't want to be responsible for anything happening to her," she replied, wondering if the woman was still in Boston.
Jane moved closer and placed her arm along the back of the couch, her hand gently brushing against Maura's long hair, "You're an amazing woman Dr Isles, I'm sure whoever your birth mother is, she knows that," she said, smiling sincerely as Maura's eyes met her own.
"Can I stay? I…I…" she faltered, surprised by the sudden inability to articulate her need.
Jane lifted her hand and stroked her hair gently, "Of course, you okay?" she asked, looking at her with concern.
Maura bobbed her head absently.
Jane released her hand and closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman, "It's gonna be okay, I promise," she whispered into a nearby ear.
Maura slid her arms around the taller frame and squeezed her tightly, "Thank you," she breathed out.
Jane leaned back and smiled as she looked into misty eyes, "Besides…what kind of girlfriend would I be if I wasn't here for the woman I love?"
"An ex-girlfriend," Maura quipped as she leaned forward and pressed their lips together.