A Rizzoli & Isles (J/M) Story
Rizzoli & Isles were created by Tess Gerritsen and adapted for TV by Janet Tamaro. This story takes place prior to the Season Two finale (which does not exist in my R&I universe) and contains mature themes involving the love and its physical expression between two women.
While investigating two deaths in Boston's Symphony Hall, Jane unwittingly becomes the center of unwanted attention as she juggles her job, her annoyance with the Chief Medical Examiner's newest fling, her suspicion of her mother, who is curiously spending more time with Constance Isles, and the unexpected rapport with world-renowned pianist, Martha Calderón - a kindred spirit who helps stir a passion that Jane thought had been buried long ago.
Authors Note: I'm attempting to post here based on a LiveJournal reader, diav's, suggestion. This is new territory and my first time posting here, though I have posted stories in a few other forums, including my website and LiveJournal. Let's give it a go, shall we?
Jane sat at a table in the precinct coffee shop and looked over a current unsolved case file. She needed a change from her surroundings – namely Frost and Korsak, who could not shut up about Dr. Pendleton and Maura. She would have thought two grown men would not resort to kissy sounds or repeating a stupid children's chant, after the three had witnessed Maura and said Doctor in a heated kiss outside the precinct as he dropped her off. There was certainly no fucking tree, mention of marriage or a goddamn baby carriage; it was just a fucking KISS they saw! And she sure as hell didn't need Korsak and Frost yapping about it. All. Day. Long.
Jane also didn't need to be a detective or have a nosey mother living in Maura's guesthouse to know that Doctor Pendleton had spent the night again with Maura. She shook her head with annoyance, considering Maura was going to live to be 150 if sex had as many health benefits as her friend had touted. Jane sipped her coffee and snorted derisively considering her own sex life; she'd likely keel-over before forty…if her job didn't do her in…or her mother nagged her to death.
She quietly moaned when she spotted her mother approach, like a heat-seeking missile. While grateful her Ma had a job and one that she loved, Jane wished it were at some other coffee shop . . . far away from work.
"Jane! Just the person I was looking for," Angela boomed.
"And here I am," she said with an innocent smile, wondering what Angela wanted now.
"So what are you going to get Maura?" Angela asked in a worried whisper.
"For her birthday," she explained as if Jane was a bit dense.
"That's like two weeks away," Jane scoffed with a chuckle.
"That's NOT a lot of time," Angela complained.
"Get her . . . a Hickory Farms gift basket or something," Jane offered, causing Angela's eyes to widen in disbelief.
"What! What kind of gift idea is THAT?" Angela snapped, swatting Jane's arm for good measure.
"Hey!" Jane looked at her crazy mother as she held her abused arm.
"We need to get her something with class!" Angela hissed.
"Even if she doesn't like Hickory Farms, she can offer it to her guests – namely us. When we're at her house for the games, Frankie and Tommy inhale whatever she has. Summer sausage and cheese – tell me that's not a good gift," Jane argued, not understanding.
"It's not a good gift! I'd die from embarrassment if she opened up something like that at her party," Angela complained.
"Party?" Jane asked, the first she had heard about any party. Though she supposed her mother would throw Maura one too, as she is now the official party expert - her "My pretty pony" party went over so well.
"Constance is planning to throw this really fancy . . . . Shhh!" Angela suddenly blurted unnecessarily when Maura entered the coffee shop.
"How do you know that Maura's mom is…?" Jane asked curiously at Angela's insight into what Constance's plans. Last she had heard, Constance was busy in New York City.
"Shhh!" Angela added, interrupting her slow daughter, and plastered on a huge smile for the Medical Examiner. "Maura dear! The usual?"
Maura smiled. "That would be lovely."
"Coming right up," Angela said happily to the Doctor, sneaking a quick glaring look at Jane to remind her she needed to really think about the present.
Jane smiled and finger waved at her mother.
"This seat taken?" Maura asked politely, looking at Jane then the empty seat.
"Yes. By you," Jane said with a smirk, moving her folders out of the way.
"Was Angela shushing you?" Maura asked curiously as she sat, glancing towards the elder Rizzoli, who was busy behind the counter.
"Would you believe she sprung a leak?" Jane offered.
Maura eyed her, clearly unsatisfied with the answer.
"Why yes, Maura, my mother was shushing me," Jane said with a sigh, hating to be shushed.
"Now if I told you, then that would defeat the purpose of her shushing me," Jane explained easily with a shrug.
Maura smiled at her friend, undeterred. "I'll get it out of you later," she said confidently with a sparkle in her eye.
"You should try Ma, she's more likely to crack under pressure," Jane countered with a confident smirk, looking towards her mother behind the counter.
"We'll see," Maura responded, certain with the right questions and enough patience, she could extract the desired information from her friend.
"You get the DNA results yet?" Jane asked, sipping her coffee.
"Yes," Maura said, feeling bad for the sudden hope in Jane's eyes. "Unfortunately, no match," she offered with a sympathetic wince.
Jane exhaled with frustration. "I thought for sure….eh. Back to square one, I guess," she said looking down with a shrug as she reigned in her disappointment. Something she was getting a lot of practice with, Jane considered with annoyance.
"You'll figure this out, Jane," Maura said and reached out, placing a comforting hand over Jane's.
Jane looked into sympathetic eyes, almost getting lost in them. "We'll see," Jane said neutrally. She awkwardly patted Maura's hand before promptly withdrawing both of hers with a weak smile.
Angela came to them with a cup for Maura and a pot of fresh brewed for Jane's refill.
"I gotta go, Ma. Criminals to catch and all," Jane blurted, suddenly hopping up from her seat, and kissed a surprised Angela on the cheek.
"Oh. Ok, honey. Be safe!" Angela called out to her quickly departing daughter.
After watching Jane disappear into the hallway, Maura turned to Angela with a curious look. "Have you noticed Jane acting odd lately?"
"Lately?" Angela snorted with amusement and left to attend to another customer.
Chapter 1 – Symphony Hall
Dr. Charles Pendleton smiled at his date; Maura looked amazing as usual. He didn't care for his tuxedo, which felt a bit suffocating. Though rubbing elbows with the wealthy and influential required a few concessions, he acknowledged as he glanced around the modest gathering of several dozen people, a small fraction of the general audience. Only the very important patrons of Symphony Hall were allowed to the after-performance social events, he considered smugly, proud that he could arrange this exceptional evening. Of course, it didn't hurt that he was dating the daughter of two prominent members on the board of directors either, he thought with a smirk.
"Oh Charles, the performance was simply . . . breath-taking. Thank you for bringing me here," she said again, guided by her dashing date through a group of patrons.
"Well you said you hadn't been to an event at Symphony Hall in a while. And I thought you'd enjoy getting dressed up and having a night on the town," Charles said, very pleased with himself. He was also looking forward to her appreciation later that evening.
"Oh you know I don't need a reason to get dressed up. But the sentiment is appreciated, as is your selection of venue," she smiled, looking around the room.
"My pleasure," he said with a sly smile, fully expecting it would be.
"There she is!" Maura gushed like a kid on Christmas. Charles bristled slightly when he noted a few of the patrons look at them disapprovingly.
"Maura, calm down dear. You're attracting attention," he said in a hushed tone. It hadn't been the first time Maura had embarrassed him in public. But on the bright side, she more than made up for it in private, he considered.
Her enthusiasm was immediately dampened by his words and look of censure on his face. "I'm …sorry. I am just in awe of her talent," Maura explained, getting a small smile from her date.
"I know. I am too. I appreciate anyone who can play the piano so well."
Maura nodded, focusing on the virtuoso, who was engaged in a lively conversation with a few patrons. Her black dress was simple but elegantly complemented her attractive form. Her dark hair was pinned up, with hints of grey around her temples, which was the only outward sign she was in her late forties. Her energy, laugh, and passion for her playing bespoke eternal youth to Maura, who smiled.
As they made their way towards the pianist, Maura felt her excitement return. When the woman saw them approach, she smiled warmly, subtly glancing over Maura with appreciation.
"Ms. Calderón, Dr. Maura Isles, I am so very honored to meet you," Maura said and gushed to the elegant woman "Your performance this evening was amazing!"
The woman chuckled at her unabashed enthusiasm. "I am delighted you think so! I have always had a warm spot for Boston's Symphony Hall."
Her voice was warm and laced with a lovely Argentinian accent, Maura noticed and offered, "You played here in 1989 and then in 2003, standing room only."
"Ah, both were special performances. I have always enjoyed performing in Boston," Martha Calderón acknowledged with a sparkle in her eye.
"Then why haven't you performed here more often?" Charles interjected curiously, causing the pianist's smile to fade as she briefly looked at him with irritation.
Noting the sudden tension, Charles added with a weak smile "I'm sure it would delight your Boston fans to see you more."
"There are agents, managers, and other commitments, naturally," Ms. Calderón offered dismissively then returned her gaze to Maura. "I truly hope my infrequent performances are not perceived as being unappreciative of Boston's very lovely and enthusiastic music lovers," she said and smiled. "I can assure you, I am most appreciative."
Maura smiled cheerfully. "Your fans appreciate you - your live recordings of those performances were extremely popular, they surpassed all other classical music sales those years," Maura offered, making Ms. Calderón chuckle again, impressed with the woman's knowledge and sincere enthusiasm.
Charles shifted uncomfortably at Maura's spouting of facts, again; she did not seem to have the filter that most people had. Though he was greatly relieved Maura's facts were apparently found charming by the illustrious musician, not incredibly awkward, as they have been painfully known to be. He fingered his chafing collar, which he worried would leave a rash. He then realized Maura could kiss it better and smirked.
"I leave those details to my manager, though I do seem to recall he was very happy those years," she said as a waiter passed by. "Champagne, Doctor Isles?" Martha casually asked, smoothly picking up two glasses, expecting a yes.
Charles frowned and quickly grabbed himself a glass from the passing tray with an uncomfortable smile.
"Thank you," Maura said with a smile as she accepted the glass from the musician.
"So do you play?" Martha asked, focusing on Maura's lovely face.
"Oh no," Maura said, shaking her head. "I have studied Ballet and fencing," Maura offered instead.
"I can see you in a tu-tu or fencing jacket," Martha said, admiring Maura's fit form.
"I play a little piano," Charles interjected.
"I didn't know that," Maura said with a delighted smile at that discovery.
Martha smirked as she sipped her champagne. Men were always so competitive, even when they were woefully out of their league. She eyed the man, wondering what this lovely woman saw in him beyond his attractive appearance.
"Well, it was a while ago…haven't played in a while," Charles quickly backpedaled, realizing his mistake; Maura would ask him to play for her if he didn't.
"That's a shame," Martha Calderón honestly offered, not able to imagine life without the piano. Maura nodded.
Charles wished he hadn't said anything.
Jane and Frankie were in combat . . . on the old neighborhood basketball court. They were on their third game as the sun went down; the illumination for their epic battle was quickly becoming only the streetlights.
"She shoots, she scores!" Jane cheered as the basketball whooshed through the net and held her arms up in victory, revealing large spots under her arms that matched the other dark patches soaking through her tee shirt.
Frankie rolled his eyes at his sister who was now doing a happy dance, with her ponytail bouncing wildly.
"Lucky shot, sis," Frankie said, retrieving the ball from the grass at the side of the court. He took the bottom of his shirt and wiped off his dripping face.
"Ha! Lucky three games, you mean!" she razzed him happily.
"Four out of five," he negotiated, dribbling the ball.
"Do you realize how many games you now have to win in a row to beat me, Sherlock? I can't believe you passed your Detective's exam," Jane said with amusement, going over to the bench. She wiped her forehead with a towel before throwing a hoodie on over her damp tee.
"Afraid it really was luck, huh? Can't beat me again, can you?" Frankie taunted, knowing his argument was horrible – she thoroughly kicked his ass, which was a surprise. Though she did seem more driven than usual for some reason, he considered.
Jane laughed at him. "Yeah. That's it. Keep dreaming, bro…" she said, then frowned when her phone rang. "So much for a quiet evening," she muttered, "Rizzoli," she answered.
Frankie noticed a look of concern wash over her.
"Are you Ok?" Jane immediately asked. "Good. Ok, I'll be right there in…" Jane said, looking at her watch, " . . . no more than fifteen minutes. All right. See you there."
"What's up?" Frankie asked curiously, joining her at the bench.
"DB at Symphony Hall," Jane said with a thoughtful look as she dialed her phone.
"Isn't Maura there tonight?" Frankie asked.
"She's the one who called me," she answered then got dispatch on the line. "Yes, this is Detective Rizzoli, Homicide, Victor 825. I got a call from the Chief Medical Examiner, Dr. Isles, who is on scene with a DB at Symphony Hall with a possible 187. My ETA is about 15 minutes. Thanks."
"Wow. And I thought an evening at the symphony would be boring," Frankie joked.
"Never a dull moment around Maura," Jane said with a smirk. "Gotta go, bro."
"You going dressed like that?" Frankie asked, taking in her sweaty sweats as she went to her car.
"It's either this or naked," Jane said sassily and got into her car.
"I didn't need to hear that!" Frankie called out with a cringe as she waved at him with a chuckle and quickly drove off.
Jane was well aware of the looks of disapproval she received from the elegantly dressed patrons and security guards as she made her way towards the dead body in her sweaty workout clothes. She would have thought the security guards at least would cut her some slack, but then, they were probably trained to be snobby to work in this fine establishment. She was certain her crappy attire would have prevented her access to the Hall had it not been for the gold shield at her waist . . . well that and the weapon she wore. The great equalizers, she considered with a small snort.
"Jane!" Maura called out with relief when she spotted her friend. When she quickly joined her side, Maura glanced over her outfit with a frown.
"Basketball with Frankie. I crushed him," Jane said succinctly and unapologetically.
"Oh. Congratulations!" Maura offered genuinely, making Jane smile.
"You look . . . amazing," Jane offered sincerely, glancing down at Maura's elegant dark green dress that perfectly hugged her ample curves.
"Thank you," Maura said, exceedingly pleased by the unexpected compliment. "I could say the same about you," she offered with amusement, glancing over Jane's sweats again.
"Oh this little ol' thing?" Jane joked in a Southern Accent, making Maura smile. "So what do we have?"
"Maura! There you are!" Dr. Charles Pendleton blurted with exasperation as he joined them.
"Charles, I'm working now," Maura said, glancing between him and Jane, who smiled politely.
"But . . . you were off tonight," he complained with a frown.
"Guess the dead body you found changed plans," Jane interjected helpfully with a shrug.
"Jane," he greeted her politely, his eyes glancing over her inappropriate attire.
"Chuck," Jane responded with a nod, prompting a displeased frown.
"Can't you get one of your assistants to…," he suggested and trailed off with a wince, motioning towards the body.
"Charles," Maura admonished. "It would be inappropriate for me to leave the scene. I'm here now and it will be more efficient for me to continue with the case," she explained. Jane bit her lip to prevent a smile. Noting Maura's eyes on her again, Jane nodded in ready agreement. Evening off or not, she wouldn't have left the scene either.
Satisfied, Maura turned back to Charles and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "You shouldn't leave yet," she said, which apparently appeased him from the satisfied smile. "I'm sure Jane or the other detectives will want to take your statement."
Charles's smile faded.
"I'd like to talk with friends or co-workers of the victim first," Jane said authoritatively and glanced at Maura who pointed in the direction of a small distraught group.
Charles sighed realizing his plans to spend an intimate night with Maura were unlikely now.
"That would be the group with Ms. Calderón, the pianist we came to see," Maura offered helpfully.
Jane nodded, eyeing them and their interactions. There were four in their group. The stout man, mid-fifties and balding, seemed irritated. The attractive brunette, late forties, was seated with tears in her eyes, looking heartbroken. A blond, mid-thirties, stood next to the pianist with a comforting hand on the pianist's shoulder and a worried look on her face. Another younger brunette, in her twenties, stood by the stout man with her arms crossed over her chest, looking around uncomfortably with tears in her eyes.
"From my limited examination of the victim, there were no obvious external injuries noted," Maura offered. "But I really need…" she said with irritation just as her assistant arrived with her needed bag. "Thank you," she said with surprise to her pleased assistant.
"Neat trick. Need anything else, Doctor?" Jane asked with an amused smirk.
"I'll let you know if there is, Detective," Maura said with a small smile and headed to the body as Jane went to interview the small group.
Charles sighed and headed to the small bar, only to find out it was closed as part of the investigation. He rolled his eyes wishing he had just invited Maura to her favorite French restaurant.
"I'm Detective Jane Rizzoli. Would any of you mind telling me about the victim, Kyle Gruhoffer?" she said gently, causing four sets of eyes to look at her.
"He was my friend and an excellent musician," the attractive brunette spoke up in an Argentinian accent.
The younger brunette nodded and sniffed, wiping her nose with a tissue. The blond woman frowned and rubbed the older woman's shoulder. The man checked his watch.
"You are?" Jane asked the pianist, surprising the woman.
"She's Martha Calderón! The closest you'll get to genius in your life-time," an older man piped up with irritation at the detective's ignorance and her scruffy appearance.
Jane briefly glanced over at Maura with a small smile then back at the volatile man.
"Roberto, Roberto . . . the good Detective is here to find out what happened to Kyle," Martha said tiredly, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
"You said he was also a musician?" Jane asked.
"A great pianist," Martha offered with a sad smile.
"But not the greatest," Roberto countered firmly. Martha patted the man's forearm and shook her head, not needing him to champion her talent right now.
"And you are?" Jane asked the irritating man, who stiffened at the questioned.
"I am Roberto Trejo, Ms. Calderón's manager."
"I see. Isn't there usually only one starring pianist?" Jane asked curiously.
"Yes. And that's Martha Calderón!" Roberto snapped.
"Roberto," Martha sighed tiredly at his unnecessarily protective nature. "We have a record coming out of piano duos. We were promoting it in several cities. After Boston, our last stop was to be at the Bar Harbor Music festival," Martha offered adding, "He was a kindred spirit."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Jane said, not detecting any artificiality from this woman. Her sadness was very real, she considered. "The Boston Police Department will not rest until we find out what happened."
Martha looked into confident and determined brown eyes. "Thank you, Detective," she said softly.
"When can we go to our hotel rooms?" Roberto asked tersely.
"Well, once you give your contact information with the patrolmen, you can go. But because we will likely need to question you further, you are asked to not leave the city at this time."
"Surely Martha will be able to go to Bar Harbor for her performance for the festival," Roberto stated indignantly.
Martha sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly.
"Won't the performance be impacted by Kyle Gruhoffer's death?" Jane asked curiously.
"Not significantly, the concert is predominately Ms. Calderón; Mr. Gruhoffer accompanied her for only two pieces."
"Roberto – enough. I am tired of this talk. We will support the police," she snapped, causing him to frown.
"I . . . truly hope we can wrap the investigation up in time to support your concert," Jane said diplomatically.
"Gah," Roberto said, not appeased at all and sought out a patrolman to expedite his departure. One of two women with their group quietly followed Roberto. The blond hesitated and eyed Martha with concern.
"Go on, Lidia," Martha said, getting a troubled frown and reluctant nod. Lidia glanced at Jane a moment before leaving.
"I am sorry for his rudeness," the pianist said to Jane with a wince.
"It's a difficult time," Jane allowed.
"His rudeness is not a result of this situation," she admitted with a sigh.
Jane was startled when Martha Calderón placed her hands over hers. Seeing her smile slightly and pointedly look at the pad and pen she held, Jane blinked and gave them to her, watching the pianist as she wrote something down. "It's my private number and room number at the Four Seasons. I trust you will not share this outside of the investigation?"
Martha smiled slightly and handed Jane back the paper and pen. "Good evening, Detective," she said and started to leave but stopped and looked at Jane curiously. "So you never heard of me before?"
Jane looked at her and smiled politely. "Disappointed?"
"No. I find it refreshing," she said, looking at Jane thoughtfully.
"Any more information on the vic?" Jane asked as she jointed Maura, who watched the body be loaded onto a gurney for transport to the morgue.
"Unfortunately nothing conclusive," Maura said with a disappointed frown.
"You'll find something," Jane said confidently, gaining a thoughtful look from Maura.
"Looks kind of young to just drop from natural causes," Jane ventured.
"I won't know until I . . . ," Maura countered firmly, once again resisting Jane's efforts to get her to guess.
Jane smirked and interrupted her expected response. "So, how was the performance?"
"Oh. My. God! It was most incredible concert I have attended," Maura gushed.
"And you've been to a few," Jane noted with a smile, enjoying Maura's enthusiasm.
"Quite a few. Ms. Calderón . . . transports you with her music," she said, trying to explain the experience.
"It was pretty amazing, wasn't it," Charles added with a small smile when he joined them, placing his hand at the small of Maura's back.
Possessive much? Jane wondered with irritation, hoping he didn't have the urge to urinate on Maura's Louboutins.
"And to think we witnessed her final performance with Kyle Gruhoffer," he said with odd enthusiasm.
Maura and Jane eyed him an uncomfortable moment before Maura offered to Jane. "I think you'd appreciate her performance of Marche Funèbre. "
Charles eyed her workout clothes, considering it was unlikely the Boston Detective could appreciate anything more sophisticated than beer and a ball game.
"Really?" Jane asked with a chuckle. "I'm not so sure if I'd have to get dressed up. I'm suspicious of any activity that requires me to wear uncomfortable clothes," Jane offered. "I'll just enjoy my ringtone when you call, thank you."
"Jane!" Maura said with exasperation. "Dressing up doesn't automatically mean you will be uncomfortable," Maura countered with a disapproving shake of her head.
"So what do you think there, Chuck?" Jane questioned, surprising the man by including him in the conversation. She had noted him fingering his collar and wincing a number of times during the evening.
Seeing Maura's curious gaze on him, Charles smiled. "Maura's right, of course," Charles said with confidence, patting her hip.
Suck up, much? Jane wondered.
"That only means you've never had to endure heels and panty hose," Jane countered, causing Maura to roll her eyes with an amused smile at her friend's stubbornness. "Or have you and found you like it?" Jane accused teasingly.
"Of course not!" Charles immediately sputtered uncomfortably.
"So can we leave now?" Charles asked the Detective with irritation.
"Did you give your information to the patrolman?" Jane asked.
"Yes," he said with impatience.
"I don't see why not."
"Jane, do you mind giving me a ride to the lab?" Maura asked, surprising both Jane and Charles.
"The lab? But . . . I waited," Charles said, looking at her dumbfounded.
"Charles, it really is out of your way. Jane can drop me off on her way to her apartment."
Jane glanced at Charles, who was not pleased. She could understand why – she'd be annoyed too.
"But Maura, honey, I thought we would have a . . . night cap," Charles blurted, knowing it was a long shot after Maura had been working on this inconvenient case.
Jane hated to hear a man beg. She hated it worse when a man tried not to sound like he was begging. And Charles was begging big time, but Maura didn't seem to notice, or was just better at ignoring it.
"As lovely as that sounds, I want to get the blood work started. I'll see you later this week," Maura said, pecking him on the lips.
Jane's eyes dropped to an interesting spot on the floor.
"I understand. You are the Chief Medical Examiner and lead by example. I look forward to seeing you sooner than later," Charles said with a forced smile.
The comment seemed to please Maura, who smiled back brightly. "Me too."
"Jane," Charles said.
"Chuck," Jane responded politely, causing him to bristle at the nickname.