Disclaimer: Common sense would dictate I do not own or created R & I in any way. If I had I would not be writing on this site. So don't go running to your nearest lawyer hollaring Sue! Won't do you any good, unless their name is Sue.

A/N : I listen to music as I write, and the soundtrack to this piece is Deftones "Entombed" and I do my best to correct my boo-boo's.


"Entombed"


First looks, I remember every nuance, especially the alluring dark depths of your eyes. I've read the eyes are the windows to a persons soul. I cannot quantify this of course. Those are romantic notions of poets, which I am in no means a poet. But, then again such notions never entered my thoughts, until you.

I remember waking up one morning with this feeling. Sadly, it took the passage of time for me to realize what had precisely happened. You are someone I have always admired and appreciated. Nothing more, nothing less. Then, as if being awoken from a deep sleep, only with clarity, I realized I had fallen in love with my LLBFF. That term always makes me smile, even thought it was coined as a ruse.

It's never been fear thats held me back from telling you my true feelings. Time has held me back. There never seems to be an opportune moment for such a confession. Perhaps, its the undying romantic in me that prefers to love you from afar. It seems selfish oddly to want more, after all these years. I've tried to resign myself to love you the only way I can, as your friend, and for as long as time allows that. I often marvel, had we met under different circumstances, would you have seen me as something other than friend material. I wonder where we would be now?

In an effort to preserve my sanity, I've tried to move on. But, not really when I stop to think about it. Falling back on an old love is not forward progress, Ian was a distraction. It always comes back to Jane. And, I've pushed her toward others as a means of coping, even though its like a knife turning in my heart.

I can't romanticize anymore though, five years of profuse longing, coupled with taking your abuse has left me somewhat forlorn. Also, absorbing your sometimes but more than often now, vicious sarcasm. That you weld like a sword towards me, breaking my heart as your desired effect. Which you have accomplished ten fold. Still I have endured. I had hoped eventually you would see me. I cannot fathom what has blinded you from me. Aside from your obivious stubborness, a trait we both share.

I have held other peoples hearts, quite literally, and I often muse how many times they've had their heart broken. The heart muscle can't actually do that, but I catch myself looking for a tale-tell scar, growth or some other malady. My once strickly scientific dispostion has been altered, to an almost absurd direction. The human heart beats only out of repetition, until it too tires.

My facade still holds. I will always be optimistic, I will always smille and laugh with you. When we were estranged from one another, my feelings for you increased. The animosity I felt towards you was a potent mix. Yet, I was so eager to forgive you when you showed up at the hospital; then you began to talk. Love once again turned bitter for me. However, I could never truly turn away from you, I have been changed through and through.

I am elated in a fashion, that I know what love truly is now. I also know I never want to feel this way again. The fact is concrete, every romantic pursuit I have from now on will be hollow by comparison. In this area of my life, ignorance was honestly bliss. As the addage goes, "you can't miss what you never had." Sadly, I know exactly what I'm missing now.

Perhaps in another life. Or if you agree with string theory hypothesis, we are together somewhere, in some other time. Strangely, that thought alone calms my heartache. I know you feel the same pull as I do. I also know you will never act on your feelings. And I know I will never force your hand. For better or worse, my heart of it's own volition is entombed to Jane Rizzoli.

"Earth to Maura."

"Huh?...Oh, I'm sorry Jane. I was just musing over some things." I reply, trying to scratch my nose with my wrist.

"Sounds serious, but you had this sad yet wistful expression on your face."

"Wistful...Jane, really?" I retorted, mentally backpedaling, trying to remove said expression off my face.

She laughs full blown, with that gorgeous dimpled smile of hers.

"I've rubbed off on you Maur, big time. And I couldn't be happier about that prospect."

"Jane, I will concede that some facets of your personality have adhered to mine, in some ways. Only, if you admit that I also appear to be rubbing off on you, Detective Wistful Prospect." I reply, in an obviously flirty tone accentuating the if.

"Fine. So, Dr. SmartyPants cause of death if you please." she replies, crossing her arms over her chest, giving me that smirk/smolder of hers.


Overall I'm pleased with this little experiment.