AN: Whilst I'm awaiting continued motivation and inspiration for my Grey's WIP, I thought I would start some one-shots for the new season of Rizzoli and Isles.

The plan is to do a short missing scene for each episode...there seems to be plenty of opportunities to fill in some gaps. I'm hoping to keep things mostly canon, but we'll see how we go. Rating may change depending on the chapter, but I will give warning for anything specific. Obviously spoilers for Season 3.

Let me know what you think. Cheers, Author's Tune


3x01 Missing Scene - Helpless

"Tell Pike, I want my chair back," Maura stated strongly, voice low and stable. Though her cheeks were stained and her lower eyelids, swelled with the effort at containing the continual gathering of tears.

Jane held her gaze for slightly longer than necessary; a conscious effort to read into Maura's expression, to communicate what words had clearly failed to. She blinked in acknowledgement, it wasn't a message for Pike - it was a message for Jane.

Maura was staying.

She smiled as she walked away, leaving Maura folded over at her own gravestone. The smile lasted a mere moment, the rustling of leaves masking the quite cries behind her. It was such a complex discharge of emotion, an enmeshed sphere of grief, confusion and abandonment. Was it possible to even conceptualise that her existence was tenuous at best. There were no words, no theory, no academia or equation that could quite capture the feeling in Maura's gut. The loneliness was overwhelming.

Pressing the unlock button on her car remote, Jane slid into the driver's seat and placed the key in the ignition. She hesitated then, fingers squeezing the dark plastic, seat belt drawn across her chest but lingering unsecured. She could make out Maura's crumpled form, unmoving with her feet still tucked underneath herself.

Jane watched silently, releasing the restraint and resting her hands on her lap. She couldn't leave; she wouldn't leave a stranger sobbing in a cemetery, let alone the woman she still firmly believed to be her closest confidante. Anger always masked hurt, and Maura was angry. Really angry, with her; with her actions.

But she couldn't just drive away and leave her, so broken. Yet, she couldn't force herself on Maura; she had asked Jane to leave. Please go.

Jane internally cursed herself, a string of expletives and self-denigrating terms cursing through her mind. Maura had been talking to her, sharing the fragile conclusions she was trying to process as she stared at her own name, carved eternally in stone. And with Jane's calmness, the nonchalant persona she forced herself to emit under the disillusion that it was exactly what Maura's needed; the emotional sandy blonde withdrew. How things can change in the blink of an eye.

In the pull of a trigger.

So Jane sat in her car, motionless, eyes fixed on reading Maura's body language. The obvious shake of her shoulders and the hands that raked through her loose hair. Still, minutes ticked past and Maura didn't make an effort to move. To slowly rise from the grass, designer skirt crushed and knees aching with each step in her towering heels.

Dusk fell eventually, the sun falling behind trees and buildings, casting a fading golden light across the horizon. The wind gained momentum and a lingering chill rushed through the eerie graveyard and found it's way into the small gaps between door seals and window edges of Jane's car.

As darkness started to envelope, she reached for the door handle and opened her door, slowly stepping out of the car. She left the door ajar, conscious of the way every movement echoed across the deserted lines of buried hopes and desolate dreams.

And then she weaved her way to the side of Maura, coming to a stop a few yards away. Maura went oblivious to her presence, vacantly staring into the darkness. "So, I'm thinking I would know by now if you're a vampire," Jane murmured uncomfortably, an awkward laugh resonating in her throat.

Maura physically jumped into consciousness, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. After a moment of delayed recognition, Maura exhaled a heavy sigh of relief, eyes darting around her surroundings in confusion. "It got dark," she observed quietly, using the pads of her fingers to smooth dried tear tracks from her cheeks.

"I thought I would take you home."

Maura shook her head. "My car is here."

"I know," Jane said, cocking her head to the side and rolling on her feet. "I'll take care of it, get it dropped outside your place."

"You don't need to do that, I'm perfectly capable of driving."

Jane hesitated, feeling the sting of Maura's frostiness return. "You're upset," she observed. "Will you let me make sure you get home okay? I won't stay."

Maura blinked, closing her eyes and waiting momentarily before opening them again. "You waited here?" she asked, forehead creasing as if trying to conceptualise the hours she had misplaced.

"You're upset," Jane repeated, as if the conclusion was obvious. "I just, well, I wanted to give you time, and not intrude. But I couldn't just leave you here, like this."

Maura looked to her left and right before placing her open palms on the grass and rolling on to the balls of her feet. She winced at the pain stabling through her knees as she forced them to extend, pausing in a crouched position.

Jane took half a step towards her and extended her hand slightly, self-consciously retracting her arms and folding them at her chest. She nervously stubbed her boots into the grass. She could hardly believe that just a few days before she wouldn't have thought twice about hoisting Maura to her feet and capturing her in a comforting hug. But things had changed.

"Really, I can drive myself."

"Maura," Jane muttered softly, the word rolling off her tongue like it always had. Maura glanced at her and their gaze met under the soft artificial streetlights casting shadows across the darkening surroundings. Maura's chin shuddered and she drew her lower lip into her mouth by her teeth, emotion continuing to bubble at the surface. "Please," Jane pleaded, "just let me drive you home."

Maura didn't respond, just held her stare for a moment longer before dropping her eyes to the ground. She carefully raised herself to stand, unsteady. The prospect of going home was suddenly unappealing; there was no one at home anymore. "It's like I don't belong anywhere anymore," she whispered, though more to herself than Jane, an unassuming witness. "I don't know what to do next."

Jane nodded, unfolding her arms and pushing both hands into trouser pockets. "And I know," she said slowly and deliberately, "that you hate me…" She trailed off, considering how to articulate clearly what she wanted to say.

Maura interrupted her quickly though, voice soft and exuding sadness. "I don't hate you. I'm just so angry, with you. At everything."

Nodding, Jane sighed. She preferred the fired up, assertive Maura; the one that didn't sound so lost and defeated. "I know." The apology wouldn't quite roll off her lips though, and every part of her was screaming at her to utter a string of repentant pleas. "Don't think about it now."

Maura scoffed, a sob caught in her throat and her eyes filled with tears. She cupped her face with one hand and squeezed the bridge of her nose with the other. "There's nothing else to think about."

"You can still be angry at me, tomorrow," Jane said, glancing over her shoulder and back at her car. "But," she murmured, and indicated with a short wave of her hand, "I think you would be more…it would be better for you to be at home."

Maura's mind reeled, home had become so empty, just more reminders of her abandonment. In that moment, nothing felt like home. "You don't need to…" Maura murmured quietly, voice trailing off into the cool night air. She shivered; she wasn't sure she would be as tolerant, as persistent as Jane was being with her. Subconsciously, she was pushing, testing Jane's alliance. People had only ever disappointed her; she wasn't convinced that the vulnerability she had allowed Jane was worth the hurt she was currently experiencing. That she was presently absorbed in; lost.

Dropping her hands from her face, Maura articulated a hoarse yes, though it was barely audible. Jane waited, following a step behind Maura as she walked to her car, not quite sure she had heard correctly. Maura slid into the passenger seat, closing the door and securing her belt before staring directly ahead. She placed her hands in her lap and entwined her fingers, knuckles white at the immediate grip she had, trying to keep the tears tracking over her cheekbones to a minimum.

Jane stepped in a moment later, silently starting the car and reversing onto the vacant street that surrounded the cemetery. They drove a few blocks, working their way towards Maura's, screeching breaks and distant sirens in the peripheral of their senses. "You going to be okay tonight?" Jane asked tentatively, hands sliding around the steering wheel as she turned at a changing set of lights.

Maura nodded, swallowing heavily and closing her eyes in a prolonged blink. "Yes," she confirmed.

"I can send Ma back over," Jane offered, guilt settling heavily in her chest.

"That's not necessary," Maura muttered, desperate to get out of Jane's car and into the safety of her residence, if only so that she could slide down to the floor and unashamedly sob into exhaustion.

"I want to help," Jane said softly, indicating and pulling up on the side of the street, just a few short steps away from Maura's front door.

Maura reached for the door handle and pulled it, holding the door open with one hand and stepping a foot to the bitumen. She stifled a small cry, stomach muscles clenching at the effort before whispering, "No one can."

And then she was gone.