Highly Strung – Part 5

Detective Jane Rizzoli and Dr. Maura Isles sit opposite from each other at the dining room table in utter silence. Only the clinking of utensils on quickly emptying porcelain plates fills the air.

Maura mentally berates herself for possibly pushing too far, too fast. The dark-haired beauty hasn't fled yet, so that might be taken as a positive portent.

Jane is briefly fascinated with the gilded weave China pattern in front of her. She now contemplates all the different ways she wants to make love to the woman across from her and when exactly to make the right move.

An unacknowledged game of footsie – sans weird-ass slippers – is in full effect under the table. After a few more moments of awkward chewing, a new conversation is attempted.

"Um, I've always known that you were stealing my shirts... kinda klepto but kinda cute."

"Wait… how?"

Jane points to herself.

"I'm… a… detective! – if I had my badge with me, I'd flash you."

"Flash me something else."

"That's your expertise."

Both erupt in a goofy giggle.

"Your mother found the shirts in my laundry, didn't she?"

"Hey, part of being a good detective is having credible informants."

"Uh-huh."

"So, what exactly do you do with my shirts?"

"Maybe I'll show you later."

Rizzoli gulps down a glass of ice water and wolfs down another croissant.

"Masticate for me, Jane."

"What?"

"Chew your food, don't inhale – your duodenum will thank you."

"If you say so, Maura – you know, I could of brought over some takeout, you didn't need to go through all of this."

"I did need to go through all of this – just like you went to the gym for release, this is how I try to relax."

"Try?"

"Not quite there yet… some tension remains."

Jane stuffs the remnants of her frittata in her mouth as Maura points to her own full fork.

"And if the eggs hurl sexual insults at us, I know how to beat them without being written up."

The detective nearly chokes on a chortle as the doctor flashes her signature grin.

"Lady, I adore your eggs, they're fuuu… unbelievably awesome."

Both are unaware that their fingers are now doing that touching thing again.

"As long as they don't taste like caviar, correct?"

Jane groans and immediately drops her head into her hands.

"I can't look at you…"

"There is a difference in flavor and texture between beluga and sevruga."

Rizzoli sheepishly raises her incredulous head and gapes at Isles.

"WOW… just wow with the humor – am I finally rubbing off on you?"

"That has been the plan all along."

"I need to pee, I'll be right back."

"Do not attempt to sneak out of the bathroom window… I will be forced to hunt you down."

"You can use one of my shirts for a scent trail."

Jane coquettishly glances back and her eyes click with Maura's again. The doctor takes the opportunity to clear the dinner plates and retrieve the crème brulee from the kitchen. She is refilling both the champagne and water glasses as the detective returns. Rizzoli presents her hands for inspection. Isles gives them the once over but focuses on the swollen knuckles. She strokes them softly.

"Aw, Jane."

"They're fine…"

The taller woman starts in on her dessert.

"See? – I can hold a spoon and everything, I'm fine, Maura… really."

"You shouldn't let Neanderthals – technically, Cro-Magnons – like Briggs get to you."

"I got to him as well."

"You should have ignored him."

"Couldn't help it, that bastard deserved it and much more."

"Is it anything as women working in a nearly-all male environment we haven't heard before?"

"Oh, trust me, this was pretty bad."

"I know… Yoshima won't be able to look at me in the eye for months."

"Instead of knocking the snot out of Briggs what would you've had me say, 'Go copulate yourself up the nearest tree!'?"

"Ooh, not a bad idea at all, actually."

Maura raises an eyebrow causing Jane to drop her spoon.

"I've just had it with all the damn digs aimed at us."

"Then, I won't even begin to describe my daily onslaught of necrophilia jokes."

"Please – I'm trying to enjoy my burnt custard stuff."

"Shall I regale you with my cotillion stories instead?"

"Put your spoon… in your mouth… pronto."

"Jane, I may be a bit socially awkward but I am not hearing impaired… I know what everyone says about us."

"I'm sorry, Maura."

"Whatever for? – people see what they want to see, it's human nature – and most everything in life is open to some level of interpretation…"

Isles takes a spoonful of her dessert and holds it out temptingly to Rizzoli. Jane leans forward and leisurely draws the spoon in her mouth without breaking eye contact with Maura.

"And yet, sometimes people see the resoundingly obvious to the point of farce – and they are bewildered by the subjects' blatant refusal to recognize or act on what is right in front of their faces…"

The strawberry blonde pulls her spoon back and laggardly licks off a tiny bit left behind.

"God almighty, Maura, you're beyond beautiful… but Briggs is still an asshole."

"Agreed."

"I'm just so sick of the bullshit, even if we do a superiah job, it don't seem to mattah!"

"And there's that accent."

"It only comes out full when I'm wicked pissed or supah tiahed."

"Usually, you sound like a Texan."

"WHAT? – for the love of Christ, of all the states to pick from, why would you say that?"

The doctor feigns innocence.

"Are you deliberately trying to screw with me?"

"I am… and I promise not to do so in front of Briggs or anyone else at work."

The detective blinks at the comment and continues to assail the dessert. Her timbre suddenly downshifts.

"Since when do you take demeaning genitalia jokes lightly, Maura?"

The doctor swallows slowly and dabs her mouth with her napkin.

"You believe I am accepting of Briggs' goading gutter talk?"

"I do."

"I know I wasn't present to experience the full impact of his tirade but please do not equate that with acceptance."

Rizzoli is unable to look at Isles and plays nervously with her spoon. Maura sighs, sits back, and winds up with her rebuttal.

"Okay… let's see… my parents suffered through years of infertility before they adopted me which explains a lot – my college roommate was date raped and I had to take her to the free clinic to terminate the resulting pregnancy because she was too afraid to report the assault – oh, and my best nurse in Africa came from the Sudan where, at the age of eleven, she had her clitoris and vulva removed by the village elders using a hot razor and locking pliers… so, no, Jane, I do not take genitalia jokes lightly."

The detective squirms in her seat like she did in third grade math class when she knew she was going to be called upon for an answer she did not have. The doctor is on a roll.

"In fact, contrary to your belief that I must be some kind of strumpet with every delivery man that darkens my doorway, I do not take my genitalia lightly, either – my most recent bloodborne pathogen results are in the desk drawer if you wish to peruse them."

Jane rubs her face with her hand and mumbles something into it.

"I… cle… oo."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm clean, too."

"I know… I had you tested after whatever that last affair was – what was that by the way? – an attempt to hide your real feelings for me? – because that is what all of my affairs are based on, trying to figure out why I am not with you!"

Jane starts to shiver but it is exceedingly warm inside the house.

"Now, if you want me to file an official complaint against Officer Briggs, I will – I will back you with anything you want to do – normally, I would be just as outraged as you and Yoshima are but… I suppose after cutting up a child earlier, I simply wanted something – anything – to be funny."

Jane nods in shame as she attempts to hold back tears.

"And you know what is truly amusing? – the sorry fact that an amoeba like Briggs can see it… and amoebae do not have eyes!"

Maura stands up in an animated manner.

"You know who else sees it? – your mother, your brother, Frost, Korsak, all of Korsak's stray animals, the bartender at the Robber, the blind lady at the seafood shack who doesn't speak English, serial killers, and the mailbox across the street with the fleur-de-lis emblem… they all see it, too… WHY DON'T YOU?"

"I DO SEE IT, MAURA… I SEE IT VERY CLEARLY, ALWAYS HAVE."

"THEN WHY DON'T YOU DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, JANE?"

The detective deliberately does not get up from her chair nor does she make eye contact. The doctor now stands right next her.

"Maybe I need to get violent for some kind of response out of you…"

Maura slaps the side of Jane's arm once.

"Stop it."

She does so again, this time a little harder.

"I said STOP IT."

Before Isles can attempt another swing, Rizzoli calls upon her training to gently but effectively seize Maura by the wrists and pull her into her lap. Jane's teeth are chattering as her voice reaches the lowest level of human auditory perception.

"This tactic… is unacceptable… and you know it."

The hot snarl of breath in Maura's ear warns her that she has definitely gone too far this time. If she smiles, she would be acquiescing. If she escalates the mood, it would get even uglier. If she makes a comical face, Jane would not take her seriously.

Still straddling the taller woman's lap, the smaller woman cautiously traces a higher cheekbone with her own. She uses the only weapon she has left in her arsenal – the truth.

"I don't know what to do with all of these emotions… do you?"

"Yeah… I do."

And with that, Detective Jane Rizzoli makes eye contact for a final time before she delivers one, precisely targeted kiss to the lips of Dr. Maura Isles. It lasts long and is returned with fervor.

"Oh, Jane, I have wanted this…"

The detective finishes the sentence for the doctor.

"Since the first moment we met, Maura…"

They return to deep, lingual kissing. Both women are petrified that if they stop the exchange, the whole world around them would disappear and they would wake up from a recurrent shared dream.

Passions kept contained continue to intensify as the floodgates are thrown open. Maura rakes all ten fingers through a head of raven hair as Jane runs both hands along the contours of smooth alabaster skin.

The doctor notices her belt ties begin to loosen and slide apart. The same thing is happening inside her thighs. Her ecru robe now falls to the floor as the detective casts off her own tank top with one quick motion.

Savage Jane battles Noble Jane for dominance as she continues to clutch her best friend turned lover in her hands. Maura reluctantly breaks from kissing for much needed air.

"We're not going to make it to the bedroom, are we?"

"No."

And with that, Rizzoli summons all of her core strength as she propels both Isles and herself up and onto the dining room table. One of the champagne glasses spills but neither one of them cares. Another round of kissing commences. This time, they do not limit it to the face.

It's Jane's turn to break for air as she scoops some crème brulee with her right index and middle fingertips. She presents them to Maura's mouth with an evil grin and a cocked brow.

"What are you doing?"

"What I should have done at Faneuil Hall…"

Maura accepts all of Jane's fingers asking for permission to enter. As she suckles the crème brulee clean from the detective's digits, the doctor discerns stealthy movement out of the corner of her eye.

"Don't mind me, hon, I'm just getting the stromboli for Aunt Tina's pinochle game."

Everything now happens in super slow motion as both Rizzoli and Isles simultaneously become aware of Angela's presence. Maura panics and clamps down on Rizzoli's fingers. Jane screams in multiple levels of agony. Isles now screams and releases her fingers.

"Jesus, Janie, at least have the decency to do Maura on a mattress."

"AAARRRGGGHHH – MY FINGAHS!"

Jane crashes down to the floor and cradles her right hand under her left arm. Maura quickly follows behind and attempts to inspect the injured phalanges.

"When was your last Tdap?"

"WHEN DID YOU BECOME A RABID RACCOON?"

The smaller woman grabs her robe and hides under the table as the taller one whips her tank top back on and turns to her mother.

"GET THE FUCK OUT, MA."

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE USE THAT LANGUAGE ON ME, YOUNG LADY."

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE?"

"I FUCKING LIVE HERE."

"WHYYYYYYYYY DO YOU FUCKING LIVE HERE?"

"ASK YOUR GIRLFRIEND WHEN SHE DOESN'T HAVE YOUR FINGERS IN HER MOUTH AND OTHER PLACES."

"MAAAAAAAAA."

Angela bends down to eye level with Maura.

"See what you did, Jane? – it's bad enough you hid her in a closet, now you've got her crying under a table!"

Mrs. Rizzoli clucks to the doctor like calling a cat in from the backyard.

"Come on out, sweetie, it's okay… the both of you, come on out, it's way past time!"

The detective tromps over to the front door and throws it open.

"LEAVE. RIGHT NOW. PLEASE."

With stromboli still in hand, Angela steps to the door in a dignified fashion.

"Your father is gonna hear about this."

"I'm sure parts of QUINCY have heard about this."

As Angela crosses the threshold, she turns back and whispers with the same rasp as her daughter.

"Don't you fuck this up for us, Janie, I like granite countertops and going to the opera... Nonna's ring is ready when you are."

"Ma, if you don't find your own fucking place soon, I'll fucking find it for you, in the fucking trunk of my fucking CAAAH."

Jane slams the door and beats on it with her fists several times. She spies a credenza and shoves it against the door.

"Ow, my fucking back, grrrrrr."

Thoroughly spent and covered in sweat, Rizzoli crumbles to the floor in front of Isles who is still too paralyzed to speak or move. Jane unleashes a ragged sigh and pulls her long, aching legs into the crossed position. She unconsciously begins to rub her arm.

"I don't… really know… how I went from shooting a suspect on the floor, to hitting a boxing ring floor, to sitting on your hardwood floor, staring at your tortoise…"

Maura peeps down and quickly closes her robe.

"Your other tortoise."

Bass stares back at both of them with this thought: You two are the most pathetic human beings I have ever had the severe misfortune to bear witness to.

"Maura, I completely understand if you never want to speak to me or any of us again and I'll have Ma's things packed in ten minutes, just please – please come out from under the table…"

Isles warily does and scoots over to Rizzoli's side. She now leans her head against Jane's shoulder and exhales in a measured count.

"That… was rather intense."

"I know."

Jane gently strokes Maura's hair and back.

"Please don't think I disrespected my mother, that's just – well, it does come across as crazy disrespectful – but it's our crazy way of caring for each other and, and I just didn't want her to… well, you know."

"You didn't want her to watch as you finger fucked your best friend on the dining room table."

"Pretty much."

"I completely understand."

The detective nuzzles the doctor's forehead as both of them share a laugh over the ludicrous situation.

"So, uh, I'm guessing we'll need another place to serve Christmas dinner?"

"We will be dining at a restaurant this year."

"Yep, we will totally be dining at a restaurant this year."

The smaller woman takes the injured hand of the taller woman and carefully examines it. Jane pouts her lower lip and whimpers like a little girl.

"Ow."

"I know."

Maura coos and delicately kisses the unfortunate fingers.

"Skin is intact, nothing broken, excellent capillary fill time… any numbness or tingling?"

"Physical numbness, no – and there is a little tingling… but not in my fingers."

"Hmm."

"I literally can't close my legs."

"No worries, I will take care of that, as well."

The two lock eyes and kiss again. The detective winces as she turns the wrong way.

"Jesus, I don't know how my body could hurt so bad and yet still be so horny."

"Well, in the human brain, the nucleus accumbens…"

"NO, no, no, no."

"I could massage your cervix?"

"YES, yes, yes, yes."

"We'll start with your upper cervix… the neck."

"Right."

Before she begins her manipulation, the doctor retrieves a few ice cubes from the champagne bucket and wraps them in a napkin. She places the napkin on the detective's right hand and now settles herself in back of her best friend turned lover turned patient.

"Good thing it wasn't your left hand."

"The god of athero-whatever-you-call-it is apparently our biggest fan."

"I will gladly worship at the altar of any god or goddess for finally getting us here – I was running out of female fertility symbols to throw at you… the conch shell in my office was the last resort."

"Heh."

Maura's soothing ministrations to Jane's neck and back last for several minutes. Their skin-to-skin contact causes both of them to relax and tense simultaneously.

"Mmm, I'm in the palms of your hands, Maura – you have me right where you want me… right where I want to be."

"Almost."

Isles kisses Rizzoli's neck while continuing the massage.

"Jane… I want you to know something – last month, I had lunch with an old BCU professor – she is retiring at the end of the semester and said the job is mine if I want it."

"And you're telling me this now because…"

"Because I want you to know that we have options – if working together and being in a relationship is going to be an issue, we will find a solution together – we always do."

"It's not going to be an issue, but thank you."

"Being with you, Jane, having you in my life, in my bed, means more to me than any medical examiner position in the world."

"Aw, babe… we still can't get to the bed, can we?"

"I can barely move."

"My chest feels like it's in the homestretch of the racetrack."

"That's because we need to get you off."

And with that, Maura's right hand dives from Jane's neck and plunges below into her pants.

"WHOA, WHOA, WAIT A MINUTE."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I mean, I'm on the floor here."

"And where exactly were we before your mother arrived? – strolling along the banks of the Charles?" – modesty left the room eons ago."

"I'm not some plant that needs to be watered or a light switch that needs to be turned on."

"You might want to rethink those comparisons."

"I'm not a chore."

"And I am not your chore whore."

"I just… I just want you to know that this isn't some casual fun night on the placemats for me, Maura."

"I am very aware of that, Jane. And I want you to know this is not some science experiment for me… the control group is nowhere to be found."

"Hey!"

The doctor attempts to quell the growing unease of the detective with reassuring kisses and cuddles.

"This is only the prelude, I promise."

"Yeah?"

"This is not carnal, clinical, nor cutesy – this is me wanting to do this because you want me to do this, yes? – if not, just say no at any time and I will stop."

"I'm nervous."

"When are you not? – remember the first time we met? – if there was no one else in the elevator with us, what would we have done to each other?"

Rizzoli's vivid memory of Isles that day is enough to quash all fears.

"I'm ready."

"Good… because I do not want you stroking out before we orally launch each other's swan boats!"

"HAHAHA… oh, Holy Mother of God!"

"Maura will suffice."

The smaller woman holds on to the taller one for dear life and takes her full weight as she collapses into bliss.

Making the one you love laugh? Good. Making the one you love come? Better. Making the one you love laugh and come at the same time? Best of all possible worlds!

Maura feels Jane's long, hard body around hers and luxuriates in the moment of lawlessness and disorder. She takes her robe and places it as a makeshift pillow under the sleeping woman's head. The temptation to kiss her awake is overwhelming. However the need for a recovery time is essential.

With a deft touch gained from her profession and too many ballet lessons in her youth, the doctor nimbly extricates herself from the lolling limbs of the detective without disturbing the peace. She gathers a couple of sumptuous throw blankets and covers her lover and herself with them. It isn't long before she nods off, too.

Awhile later, Jane opens her eyes to see Bass, once again, staring at her.

"Maura…"

Isles is spooning next to her.

"Hmm?"

"Why are we still ON THE FLOOR?"

"Jane."

"OW… getmeupgetmeupgetmeup."

The doctor springs up and helps the detective to her feet. They hobble over to the sofa where Rizzoli flops down. As Maura starts to walk away, Jane greedily pulls her back on top of her and another round of kissing commences.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To get us some water and extra-strength NSAIDs."

"Sounds like a plan."

The doctor slowly stands, deliberately displaying her décolletage and all of its surrounding glories. The detective mutters a prayer under her breath. Maura returns within moments with two full glasses and a bottle of pills. They swallow in unison.

"Feel free to watch the baseball game for a bit, I will be right back."

Without questioning, Rizzoli does as she is told. Red Sox lead the Brewers 7 to 4. Jane tries to concentrate on the game as her team turns a brilliant double play.

"YES."

Isles now reenters the room. The bathrobe has been replaced with a silk and lace verdigris negligee and matching six-inch stilettos.

"Is the game going well for you?"

Jane's eyes widen to their limits as Maura and her signature smile approach.

"Ooh, it totally is now!"

The taller woman jumps up and meets the not-so-smaller woman eye to eye. The scintillating heat between them is enough to keep all of the Back Bay warm through the winter.

"Have I told you how hot you are, Dr. Isles?"

"It is something I will never tire of hearing, Detective Rizzoli."

"I do drink beer and I do like baseball but I'm most definitely not a man."

"I am very well aware of that."

Maura trails a kiss up from chin dimple to lips. Jane slides her hands down the ample curves. The detective seductively lowers herself while still maintaining eye contact. She reaches the stilettos, abruptly pulls each foot free, and flings the shoes across the room.

"You don't need these… for me to be attracted to you."

Jane rests her face against Maura's navel area as the strawberry blonde grasps fistfuls of raven hair.

"But I do need them to reach you."

"Lady, don't you see you have me on my knees?"

The two of them reflect soft, loving smiles at each other. Until Jane begins to wobble.

"JUST NOT FOR VERY LONG TONIGHT… OW, OW, OW, CRAMP."

The doctor becomes an attractive crutch as the detective limps back to the sofa.

"SHIT… I'm so sorry."

"It's not a problem, you have had a very taxing time – it's your body's way of saying enough."

Isles reclines on the sofa first and then secures Rizzoli on top of her. Maura's interest is suddenly piqued by the game.

"How fascinating that these two teams are named after an article of clothing and one who makes a fermented beverage instead of the typical fierce animal or mythical tribe."

Jane is busy feasting on the breasts before her.

"Mmm… sure… fascinating."

A few minutes pass and heaving a chest is felt. What Jane mistakes for arousal is actually sobbing. Rizzoli squints up and follows Isles' look of abject horror to the television. On screen is an amusement park commercial with a happy family enjoying the rides. One of the girls is very similar looking to the recent young victim.

"Oh, nonono, Maura – please don't go there!"

The detective flips off the TV but the doctor already has several tear rivulets draining down her cheeks.

"Already there…"

Protective Jane immediately snaps to attention and repositions herself on the sofa. She cradles the weeping woman in her arms and tenderly sways.

"Shh-shh, we did everything we could… and more."

"When I was the doing the autopsy, all I could think about was how strong and brave she was…"

The words catch in Isles' mouth.

"Her poor family – all these years of searching, only for the inevitable conclusion."

"They had hope. It's a fuel that drives you harder and longer than rage ever could."

"I doubt my family would keep searching for me like that – they would arrange the schedule for the most dignitaries to be at the funeral."

"I'd keep searching for you… hell, I've been searching for you my whole life – and found you because of a bad map."

This elicits a half smile from the smaller woman who rewards the taller one with a sweet, simple kiss.

"Being a lefty, that girl also reminded me of you, Jane…"

The doctor points to a mahogany-framed picture on her end table. The detective smiles at the photo taken of the two of them at the Esplanade last Fourth of July.

"Why, oh why, Maura, did you insist on us wearing those silly hats?"

"I'm not looking at the silly hats, Jane – see how the woman on the right…"

She points to herself.

"Is looking at the woman on the left?"

She points to Jane.

"Her ardor for this woman is all encompassing and ingravescent – even the camera won't lie and disguise it in the photo."

Rizzoli takes Isles' hand into hers and squeezes it firmly as more tears begin to flow.

"The day of the shooting was the absolute worst day of my life – if I ever lost you, I would lose everything…"

Maura chokes back tears as Jane wipes the escaped ones from her face. She continues.

"I want to say something to you, I've been trying to say it for a long time but I just never knew when the right moment would be – after what we just went through with this case, I do know I do not want to carry that photograph of us in a wallet for four years and wonder what if…"

The detective beats the doctor to the ultimate punch.

"I'm completely, madly, and utterly in love with you, Maura Isles…"

A burst of laughter makes it past the tears.

"Oh, Jane Rizzoli, I am in love with you with all four chambers of my heart and more – I study death to learn about life but you have taught me better than any scalpel ever could!"

They embrace long and kiss hard.

"Maura, you drive me out of my mind and you give me hope."

"I will never get lost again as long as I am with you, Jane."

"Now… do you think we can make it to the bedroom this time?"

"Even if we have to crawl."

The smaller woman tugs the taller woman and implores her to pursue. Together, they carefully make their way to the other room, Jane's left hand locked in Maura's right.

The low tone of a down-tempo ambient track reverberates from the bedroom. Usually, Rizzoli would be making massive fun of the so-called music but it fits the mood perfectly. Isles' attention to detail serves her well in her profession and in other aspects of life.

Both women are lit up by the blue light of the moon peeking through the windows. Their eyes reflect it even more with a haunting gleam. Jane pulls her unruly black mane into a ponytail and smirks. Maura raises an eyebrow.

"Are you planning on breaking down a door, detective?"

"I need a clear line of vision to do my job properly, doctor."

With that, the taller woman spins the smaller woman into her arms and pushes her up against the now slammed shut portal. Another round of kissing and more as Maura entices Jane away from the doorway. The master chef deliberately slows the boil and resumes her seduction with solo spins and swirls in time with the music. The negligee slides off within seconds.

With an intense gaze locked on Maura, Jane allows herself to become the maypole. Honey hair and soft skin entwine around tan limbs. Delicate fingers tickle under the tank top and toss it aside. Those same fingers now slide down sweat pants which are ensnared and discarded.

Now free of fabric and other bonds, both women finally make it to their prolonged destination.

Their first time in bed together as a romantic couple involves tender, splendid lovemaking where heartfelt declarations of amore and fidelity tumble from their lips.

Hardcore fucking claims the next four.

The heinous darkness of the past few days provided them with an invaluable gift, a gift that everyone holds but often times fails to recognize – the realization that long life is only a potential and not a certainty. And finding the other half of your soul is not a guarantee but a journey well worth the effort. Especially when you do!

The dawn awakens Jane first. The candles are extinguished, the music is off, there are no distractions, except for the slumbering woman beside her. Maura is in the middle of her other favorite dream – romping in a warm meadow with Jane as gigantic neon butterflies sing to them in Gaelic. Rizzoli nestles a little closer to Isles and ruminates.

Being a good daughter to Frank and Angela, being a great sister to Frankie and Tommy, being a loyal member of Red Sox Nation, being ready to sacrifice her life for the city of Boston, all of this makes Jane who she is. But being with Maura right now, in this way, is who she was meant to be.

Isles is startled awake. Not the fearful startle of someone breaking into the house or the forgetful startle of leaving the gas burners on. It's the warm, wet startle of her other half making love to her. She smiles and revels in the pleasure.

"Good morning, Jane…"

The afternoon sun is now a floodlight through the bedroom window. The detective is sprawled out on the bed naked with only a sheet covering her lower region. She looks like the cat that ate the canary. Six times.

The doctor enters the room wearing nothing but Jane's gray jersey – ironically, a jersey with the lucky number seven emblazoned on the back underneath the Rizzoli name. Isles carries a tray with an assortment of edible goodies, including crème fraiche.

"Ooh, do I smell coffee… and bacon?"

"Indeed – I figured we should continue to honor the god of atherosclerosis for another day."

Maura delivers the coffee with kiss and then skips over to her closet.

"It's too late to go back inside!"

"Indulge me for a minute."

"I thought that's what I've been doing."

The smaller woman scurries back to the bed and climbs on top of the taller one. She has a sea captain's hat in her hand.

"What is that?"

Before Jane can protest, Maura places it on her head.

"Why?"

"I'm impressed with how well you navigated my shoals."

The detective runs her hands through amber waves of hair and alternates between kisses and coffee slurps.

The doctor sits up straight, flashes her signature grin, and reaches for her phone.

"And your mother would love it!"

"Aw, God."

Jane makes one of her signature faces of disgust as Maura snaps her picture.

"Speaking of which…"

Maura presses the button for voicemail playback. Angela is the first message.

"Hi sweethearts, I hope you two are having fun, the stromboli was a big hit but your Aunt Tina is a cheat – I see that Tosca is coming to town next month, I'd love it if we all could go… Jane, I SWEAR TO GOD, I want to go. Bye."

Rizzoli rolls her eyes while Isles cracks up. The next message plays.

"Hello, Dr. Isles, it's Sergeant Korsak, I hope you're enjoying your day off. Ahem, in case you run into Jane, please let her know that the department is expediting a transfer for Briggs to Springfield – seems the chief's wife is Sicilian. Anyway, we'll see you tomorrow, get some rest… [Detective 'Black Oak Barry' Frost chimes in] because tree climbing is exhausting, even for experts like yourself!"

Jane and Maura can only shake their heads and giggle. Another message plays.

"Hey Janie, Ma told me where you were – WOOOOOOOOO YEEEAAAH, YANKEES SUCK, YANKEES SUCK, YANKEES SUCK… it's not just the Yankees doing the sucking, huh sis?"

"How many more, Maura?"

"Just one, Jane."

"Maura, it's your father… it's about damn time – tell Rizzoli if she ever hurts you… well, she knows."

"I do know, Doyle."

His message continues.

"And Maura… learn how to close your blinds."

With that, the doctor presses her phone off and returns her full attention to the detective.

"Apparently your mother and my father can now compare notes."

"Maybe we should just go back to Faneuil Hall and do it in public."

"Or we could have our own TV show."

"Think anyone would watch?"

"Maybe a couple."

"Yeah, a couple of pervs."

"No, you would have to be somewhat intelligent to watch us."

"And what exactly would this show be called?"

"Isles & Rizzoli of course."

"Really?"

"I'm being fair, it's alphabetical."

"Rizzoli & Isles, my name has more letters than yours."

"Isles & Rizzoli, it starts and ends with an 'i' – it's symmetrical."

"Let's save this debate for later…"

And cue hideous Dropkick Murphys knock-off song, fade to black, FIN.

-30-

Thank you all for sticking with this! What started out as a lark for me has turned into my thank you note/love letter to the first season of 'Rizzoli & Isles.' Let's hope there is more to come; )