A quick first chapter for a new story. Feel free to give input or message me with something you'd like to happen in the story. I'll try my best to work it in.

I do not own Rizzoli & Isles, but if I did they would be written something like this.

It wasn't easy, it had never been easy, not for Maura. She would be so close to making a friend and then, words would slip out and she'd lose them. As she got older, she learned to live without friendship. The honey-blonde learned that she could find companionship, and sex, without having the troubles of maintaining a friendship. But then she sauntered into Dr. Isles life, confusing and confounding the doctor.

Detective Jane Rizzoli. Maura couldn't help but stare at her, blushing when their eyes met. There was an instant connection, one that scared Maura; she'd never felt that close to another person and it automatically made her afraid. Afraid that she would mess it up by saying the wrong thing, by doing the wrong thing; she was afraid that now, after knowing what true friendship was, she'd lose Jane somehow.

They had talked about it, Maura learning to open up about her emotions and Jane learning to curb her sarcasm for Maura's sake. Most of the conversations ended in a brief hug, a few lasting longer than the others. Every time their skin would touch, Maura would flush and she could feel her cortisol levels rising, a rush of adrenaline and the familiar warmth in her stomach.

Some nights, especially nights where the two had to stay up to work, one would stay at the other's house. Jane and Maura would talk for hours- Jane coming up with theories and Maura discounting them as assumptions. Whenever Maura spoke up about these guesses, there would be a momentary twinge of fear. She would see the frustration rise in Jane's face and then the calm smile come across the brunette's lips. The blonde loved that smile, the smile that was just for her. And she reminded herself every time that she thought of that smile that it was a smile of friendship.

Maura reminded herself in the middle of the night when she'd move her hips in time with her hand, all the while thinking of Jane. Jane's lips, her smile, her hands, her fingers, her legs and breasts; going over every curved and smooth surface of Jane's body. It was those times, when she remembered that it wasn't a romance, it was a friendship, that she'd try to go back to sleep but couldn't. She would stay awake for hours, going over the entirety of their time together. The first days, when she could barely speak to Jane. The months later when she could mutter hellos and goodbyes, delivering the results of some test or other to Jane's desk. Of course, she had assistants to do that, but Maura wanted to see Jane. She knew that what she was doing was immersion therapy. She knew that she was trying to desensitize to Jane, and even though she loved the way her body reacted just seeing the detective; Maura knew that their connection wouldn't go anywhere until she learned to calm herself and her nerves.

The M.E. had worked hard, she'd conquered her fear of other humans, living humans. But conquering her fear of Jane Rizzoli was an entirely new debacle. Still, she challenged herself every day. Maura would ask Jane to lunch, talk to her about things other than work, bring her coffee, try to be a friend like she'd seen others do. And she thought it was going well. She thought it was going to end up like nothing ever had before.

'I might actually have a best friend.' not just a friend, but a best friend. And on the day she heard Jane confirm it was the happiest day of the life, and somehow also the saddest. A part of her was thrilled to have a friend- the part of her that was alone for all those years playing with chemistry sets and dissecting frogs. But the other half, her grown up half that was attracted to Jane wanted more. She wanted to give Jane pleasure in ways that no one else could. She wanted to be the cause of every moan and whimper that came from the detective's bright lips. And god, how she wanted those lips, to bite and kiss and flick her tongue against them. She wanted them everywhere, on her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her...

"Maura?!" the M.E. was taken from her fantasy world by the familiar voice of none other but Jane Rizzoli.

"Yes, Jane? Sorry, I was thinking..." Maura said, trying to calm the reddening of her face and the need between her legs. "Just considering some things about this case. It's very interesting..." she cleared her throat and looked up trying to delay the hives forming on her chest. Jane looked at her friend quizzically.

"If you're sure you're okay. I was calling your name for like 30 seconds there. Thought you'd gone all space cadet there for a second." Jane smiled and Maura's knees clenched together and she held onto the autopsy table. It was taking everything she had to not go onto Auto-pilot and run into Jane's arms. But she'd grown used to reducing her want for Jane. They talked about the case and something Maura said must have triggered a thought in Jane because the brunette took the blonde's hand and thanked her about twenty times before leaving the morgue.

The medical examiner finally let out her breath shakily.

"You've got to do better, Maura." she chided. "No getting distracted at work!" Maura continued to scorn herself as she worked diligently collecting evidence from the deceased body on her table.
She didn't see Jane again that day, and she was almost grateful. Her resolved was weakened and all she wanted was to go home and pretend that Jane was there with her- holding her, touching her, kissing her. It was all she could stand to make it inside her house, and run to her bedroom delaying only to take off her blue slingbacks and lay her purse down on the kitchen island.

Maura bit her lip and tried to calm herself. She slowly began taking offher clothes, with every intention of putting on her pajamas. But the moment she removed her bra, her slender hand moved to her breast, caressing and teasing the hardening nipple she found there. Jane's name escaped Maura's lips as she began to massage herself through her skirt. Soon she found her way to the bed, slipping out of the pale khaki skirt, not even bothering to lay it in the chair next to her other clothes. The blonde doctor was now naked and touching herself intimatley. A chorus of moans mingled with 'Jane's flowed from her mouth. She handled herself roughly, barely able to breath as the shocks of her orgasm ran through her. Maura's slender, but curved body spasmed and her breathing slowly evened out.

'Why do I do this?' she thought, knowing that she always hated herself afterwards for thinking of Jane in that way.

Her cell phone rang and she looked at it, running a hand through her hair. 'Jane Rizzoli' the bright, white letters blinked. Maura took a second to compose herself. She knew if she sounded out of breath Jane would rush over to make sure she was okay, but she hesitated thinking about if that was what she didn't want to happen or not. As she shook herself out of the thought, she unlocked her phone, but the call had already gone unanswered.

Jane called a second time, and Maura quickly answered.

"Maura?"

"Yes, Jane?"

"I just wanted to check in, I didn't see you after you helped us catch that pervert. When you didn't answer, I started to worry, but you're okay right? Do you need me to come over?"

"No, no, I'm fine, really. I just headed on home after that. I figured you'd figured something out and heard that you caught him, so I left soon after that." Maura said, working her way around why she left.

"Alright, well, if you feel like hanging out, call me. We can go to the Dirty Robber for drinks, or just stay in. Jo misses you."

"Well, I miss Jo, too. I think I'll have to pass tonight. But I'll see you at work tomorrow." Maura answered quickly.

"Okay. Goodnight, Maur." Jane said, not waiting for Maura to reply before she hung up.

"Night, Jane." the blonde replied to the silence on the other end of the phone.

Before going to sleep, Maura brought herself to climax twice more each time thinking of Jane's thin fingers attatched to her scarred hands.