Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Rizzoli and Isles except for the parts in this story which belongs to me.
This came to me suddenly today and I found that I just had to write it, if only to not forget it.
Chapter 1
She's sixteen again and lying in her girlfriend's arms in the middle of Boston Common, her head over her heart as she points out the colombous clouds above and goes into her rendition of their formation. She lifts her head as if to check that her girlfriend is listening but instead she's met by warm brown eyes and a kiss to her temple and she knows. She knows that Jane will listen to anything and everything she has to say simply because it's Maura who's saying it. She lays her head back down to continue her fact-spouting. And the girl below her simply hugs her closer and smiles.
Because as long as Maura's happy, she's happy too.
Maura comes to a screeching halt in her car, her mind torn out of her reverie as she takes in her surroundings and the beating of her heart.
Over a decade later, she's back in Boston, but it's not all sunny clouds and green grass and Jane next to her side. It's a dark autumn night and she's just come from the office that she's just begun to put in order after having being appointed as Chief ME and the rain is whipping down in torrents around her. But it the person in front of her car that takes her breath away. The hooded figure whose only indication that they are not one with the darkness are the white bandages wrapped around their palms and they're furious at the fact that they've nearly been run over. Their body stance and flailing arms tell Maura as much. The person goes to slam their hands on the ME's car bonnet but quickly comes to the realization only inches before they make contact that it probably isn't the wisest idea and thinks better of it, instead shouting some indecipherable words Maura can't hear within the safe confines of her car and aiming a sneaker-ed foot at the bumper before allowing the darkness to swallow them once again. And with that they are gone, taking the newly-appointed ME's astonishment with them.
But somewhere, deep within Maura's temporal lobes, she is digging for a memory while at the same time her brain is reminding her to breathe. Because even though the figure before her had had a hood over their head, and had been dressed in black, she'd recognize that lanky form, the curls peeking out from under their hood and those dark orbs anywhere. And she's sure beyond a doubt that they belong to one Jane Rizzoli.
