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A/N: This is dark. Kind of Angsty. If you want more, please review/message and let me know. I'm not too sure about it, so feedback would definitely help. I hope you like it!
I can't help but notice the woman standing in front of the elevator muttering to herself. I've never seen her around here, but I can already tell she's something else. My eyes skim down the length of her body. She has long, curly blonde hair and the palest skin. Skin that I already know is perfect underneath the tight blue dress she's wearing and skin that would look fucking great if I could make it a shade of pink. I shake my head to rid the thought and trail down to her legs. She's wearing heels taller than I've ever seen anyone wear, let alone walk in. It's the hottest thing I've ever seen.
"Ya new around here?"
She turns from the elevator quickly at my question, and I finally get a glimpse at her. She's fucking beautiful. Her eyes are the most intense color I have ever seen. I don't even know what to call them. Her mouth is small and shaped like a heart. I want to bite the hell out of those pink lips. I look lower and see the most perfect pair of tits on the fucking planet. Dear God, this woman has to know how sexy she is and she most definitely has to be lost. No one who looks like that belongs here.
"Ah, uh… yes. Yes I am. It's my first day. How did you know?" I swear, I think she's nervous. Anyone who looks like this should not be nervous. Maybe it's just a game she likes to play so people actually think they have a shot in hell with her. Shit, I'd play that game if I looked like that.
"Just a lucky guess. I'm Detective Rizzoli, but you can call me Jane. Or Rizzoli. Whichever." I would stick out my hand for her to shake it, but after Him no one has been allowed to touch my hands. Ever.
"Okay, Jane, it's wonderful to meet you," she says as she extended her arm for a handshake. Like I said, no one touches my hands. It's been five years, and it's not about to change now. So I reach out and place my hand on her shoulder. I give her a smile so she knows it's nothing personal. She probably thinks it's weird. Hell, I know it's weird.
"And you are…"
"Oh! Where are my manners? I'm Doctor Maura Isles. I'm the new medical examiner." I let out a laugh. After that dickhead examiner we had before, this is a real treat. Plus, I'll hopefully get to see her strut her stuff in those heels every day.
"Well, whaddaya know. Do you want me to show you around?" I mentally cross my fingers, hoping she'll say yes. She nods her head and I almost giggle. Almost. Like I said, there's something about this woman.
I turn the corner and enter the homicide department with Maura close behind. She hasn't said a word since she told me her name. I think she's nervous, but it sure as hell can't be because of me. I'm just a tall, lanky woman with too many issues. Being in a new place has to be why she's shakin' in her boots. Heels. Whatever. I make it my mission to make sure she's more at ease. I walk over to my former and current partner.
"Hey, you deadbeats, this is our new medical examiner, Maura Isles."
I roll my eyes as Frost and Korsak look up and immediately stare at her chest. A pang of jealousy—anger?—courses through me. I shake my head. She isn't mine, I have no reason to feel like this. I plaster on a smile and remember it's my mission to make her feel comfortable.
"Her eyes are up here, assholes." I let out a laugh to let them think I'm just kidding. They don't really know how fucked up I am, and I plan on keeping it that way.
Maura walks over to the desk where the men were sitting and extends her hand, first to Barry and then to Korsak. All I can do is stare at her 'too-perfect-to-be-real' ass. Frost catches me and I quickly look down at my phone.
"It's a pleasure to meet you both since we will be working closely together," she says as she tries to mask her nervousness that I can still hear. Another pang of jealousy. I know we are all gonna have to work together, but I'm hoping to be the only one getting really close to her.
"Ah, I see. Well I'm Barry Frost and this is Vince Korsak," said Barry with a smile. "I bet Jane's glad to finally have another lady around here…I'd hardly call her a lady, though," he teased. Or at least better be teasing. I roll my eyes and cross my arms.
"Ha, ha. Very funny." I tilt my head towards the door. "You wanna go down to the dungeon now?"
She narrows her eyes and tilts her head. It's the cutest thing I've ever seen and I swear if I wasn't so fucked up, I'd melt right now.
"The dungeon? I'm not very good with metaphors such as—" I start laughing. I don't mean to, but I just can't help it. I place my arm on her lower back and lead her out to the elevators.
"Yeah. The morgue." Her eyes light up and I can see she finally understands. She nods her head once again as we step into the elevator.
Maura's been working here a week and has already conned me into going to yoga this morning before work. I don't like that. I like to be in control. Since He took it from me, I like to take it from other people. It's just how my sick mind works. I know I could get out of going if I really wanted to, but I'm not. Ever since I realized I am the reason she gets nervous, I've tried to be around her as much as I can. I know it's sick and twisted. I do. But the way she can't even act normal and goes all dictionary-flip-out on me, turns me on. I like the fact that she can't even control herself because she's so nervous. I know I should back down, back away. It's only been a week, but I can tell she's into me. And I can already tell she deserves more than I can give her. But like I said, I'm a little fucked up and there's no way I can back down now.
I hear the doorbell ring and I get up from the couch and go to the door. I open it and find Maura—impeccable, as always—dressed in the tightest yoga pants I have ever seen and a sports bra. I feel a little silly in my sweatpants and tshirt, but He left marks on me that not a whole lot of people know about, and I'd rather keep it that way. I give her a smile and step aside so she can walk in.
"Just let me grab my bag and we can go." I walk over to my blue, ratty-ass bag and pick it up. I know she'd die if she ever had to fold her work clothes and shove 'em into something like this. She's a freak about wrinkles so I already know what's coming.
"Jane, are your work clothes in that bag? They're going to be…wrinkled." I look over and she's all wide-eyed. I'm afraid she's about to flip the hell out so I give her my grade-A Rizzoli smile and shrug. I like control in my life, so if I want to wear wrinkled clothes today…so be it. I'll be damned if I bring an iron because someone wants me to. No, no. It doesn't work that way. Not for me, anyway.
"Yeah, Maura. They're in there, and no. You can't make me bring an iron." She lets out an exasperated puff and heads to the door.
"Fine, Jane. Have it your way." Damn straight, I'll have it my way. 'Cause that's the way I like it and not even Maura Isles can change it.
I forgot about having to take a shower after yoga. I'm standing here trying to wait on Maura to undress in the locker room and head over to the shower first like I told her to, but it's not gonna happen. I can tell. She's standing there in her sports bra and a pair of lacy-ass underwear that I just wanna rip off, looking at me. Waiting on me. It's like she's fucking scared to go alone. Or scared that she'll have to walk into work with an unshowered Jane Rizzoli.
Damnit. She's gonna wait on me. She knows about the scars on my hands. She hasn't tried to touch them, but I catch her looking sometimes. I can't tell if she's too polite or too scared to ask me about them, but I'm glad she doesn't. So maybe I can get by without her saying anything about my other ones. Maybe. I shrug off my loose sweat pants, and I can already tell she's looking at the raised-up scars across the back of my thighs. I try my best not to look at her and turn beet red. Dear God, I don't even know what she's gonna say about my back. At least she's had the decency to pretend she's pulling out our towels. I pull off my shirt in one swift-as-hell move and I hear her gasp. It's barely audible, but since I was expecting it, I hear it. Seventeen whip-scars Criss-cross my back. Like fucking lattice. They're raised and still a little red against my tan skin. I don't like this. I don't like it one bit. If only she had listened and walked over to the shower before me, she wouldn't have seen it. It's gotten me a little more than pissed off. Like I said, I love to be in control. This is definitely not me being in control. I reach over and grab the towel from her arms and slink off to the showers. I refuse to look at her face. I know what I'll see. Pity. And I don't need anyone's pity. Fuck this. I'm in the shower before she's even had a chance to move.
It's four o'clock and I still haven't spoken to her. We drove all the way to work in silence and split off at the elevators without so much as a goodbye, thanks, see ya later. I can't tell if she's disgusted or just too scared to talk. I don't even give a fuck. I'll talk to her when I decide to talk to her. I know it's awful, but I don't care. Okay, yes I do. Maybe a little. Which is…weird. I normally have no problem shutting people out when they piss me off. But, Maura's different. I knew there was something about her. I thought she'd be nice and compliant, but no. Under that polite exterior, she's as bossy as they come. Almost as bossy as me. I've always hated things I can't control. But with her… I'm a little turned on that she doesn't come running to my every beck and call—even if it pisses me off. For once, it doesn't make me feel like I'm stuck in that basement giving all my control over to Him. Do I want her to defy me all the time? No. I still want my control. I need it, even. But, sometimes it's okay. Only with her, though. And that scares the hell out of me.
It's been two days since that damn yoga incident and I still haven't talked to her. It's not like she hasn't tried. I'll be damned if she hasn't called me at least five times. And it's not that I don't wanna talk to her, it's that I do. I wanna hang out with her, even. But, I want to be the one that decides when. And how. I'm also kinda scared that she'll tell me no. And I don't like being told no. I said it to that bastard hundreds of times and he didn't listen. So why should I have to listen to anyone saying it to me? So if she says no, I'll just have to convince her to say yes. And that'll be that. I'll get my way, I'm sure of it.
Even though it's six on a Friday evening, I pick up my phone to call her. I'm banking on the fact that she either won't have plans or will drop them for me. We've only known each other a little over a week, but she's into me so I'm pretty sure she'd change her plans. She answers on the second ring and I'm just a little relieved. She better not say no. I won't like that at all.
"Hello, Jane." The way she says my name almost kills me. I want to hear her scream it. But, I know I can't give her what she wants so I haven't caved. Yet.
"Hey, Maur… What are you doing tonight?" I swear I'll lose it if she says no. I won't like that at all.
"Hmm…" I hear the hesitation in her voice and I stop breathing. She can't say no.
"I was planning on watching a documentary about the Dogon tribe of Sub-Saharan Africa…Unless you'd like to do something else instead?" She wants it. And by it, I mean she wants me to get her naked. I can hear it in her voice. And as much as I want to, I know she deserves more. But, I just can't seem to keep myself away.
"Let's go out and have a few drinks at the Robber. I'll come pick you up in an hour." I make sure to tell her, not ask. I have to let her know I'm in charge and I'm making the plans. No one walks over Jane Rizzoli.
"Okay!" I can hear the smile in her voice like I've just offered to buy her a Lamborghini to drive her down Sunset Boulevard while hand-feeding her chocolate strawberries. Fuck, she's into me. I already know it's going to be hard to remember that she deserves more.
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