I do not own Rizzoli and Isles….

I love my sister… even though she can be a bit demanding and impatient, I wouldn't change her for the world. We're polar opposites, like oil and water, night and day but somehow we have a connection that even I can't understand.

My sister, she's a detective, she is tall, slender with long, dark unruly hair; that's her on the outside, on the inside; she's extremely loyal, compassionate, caring. She knows when to trust her gut…I still don't understand how a person can listen to their intestines... but she is an amazing detective, youngest ever female promoted to the rank of detective in Boston and no one deserves it more…I might just be a bit biasshe is my sister after all…seriously though, she has a great closure and conviction rate on her cases, I help too, being the Chief Medical Examiner but my brains are nothing without my sisters gut…as disgusting as that soundsit's completely true.

She drives me up a wall sometimes like we're meditating together…of course after pleading with her for hours to join me…she can never focus on meditating, she's always whining about how long we need to close our eyes for. When she's standing in on an autopsy, she paces and it's distracting, she keeps trying to make me guess even though she knows I hate to because I get hives when I do. Her unhealthy eating habits I also have a problem with, sometimes I think she eats things that are bad for her just to irritate me…I only hope she realizes that I nag her about eating healthy because I care about her…and I hate it when she's sick because then she's like a five year oldseriously, this bad-ass detective is a whiny five year old when she's sick! But mostly because I care, I really wish she would start eating healthier.

It's not always sunshine with my sister, we fight…a lot, sometimes it's a little fight, like when work gets a little overwhelming and we both start blaming each other; she thinks I'm moving too slow and I think she needs to give me space because science takes time. Fights like those, we resolve by the end of the day, she'll bring me coffee in the morgue or I'll get her those donuts she loves so much…because I support her unhealthy eating habits only when we fight. The point is that we don't let our pride overpower everything we have. We have big fights too, the kind where we don't speak to each other for a couple of days. But even with those fights, we still have each other's back…I really hate those fights though, they make me feel miserable. Eventually we both come to our senses and we apologize because again, we won't let pride ruin what we have.

She's always there for me…I couldn't ask for a better sister. When I'm upset and heartbroken after a failed attempt at finding 'Mr. Right' she's there to comfort me, make me laugh, insult the guy even. She knows when I'm upset even when I'm trying to be professional and not let my feelings show at work but she calls me out on it. Sometimes I hate that she knows me so well but I appreciate the fact that she does.

I'm there for her as well, but she hates to cry and whenever she does cry, I cry too because I know how that she's hurting intensely or she wouldn't cry, that's how tough my sister is. When she loves, she loves hard, that's why I'm a tad upset with Casey. My sister does not deserve to be treated that way. She loves him so much, she's never said as much to me, but she doesn't have to…I know her. I wish he would forget his wounded ego and pride long enough to see this. I want my sister to be happy and he's it for her, I wish he'd realize it before it's too late. But until then, I'll be her shoulder to cry on, and a listening ear, because it means so much to me that she lets me see this side of her.

The thing is…she hasn't always been my sister…in fact we've only known each other for just over eight years but the bond was almost instantaneous. She was my first real friend, my first ever best friend. Like I said before, we're like oil and water…who would have thought we could have ever even gotten along to begin with. But we did, it may not have started out that way…it's a funny story… she was dressed as a hooker when we met, I was oblivious to the fact that she was only undercover, she was in the BPD café, trying to get Stanley to give her free donuts, I offered her money, but she was rude to me and refused it. But that was the first time she called me 'sister'…granted she wasn't friendly about it at all and was more like 'sistah'…but it was the first time I called her 'sister' too…who would have thought that three months down the road she would be transferred to homicide and we would eventually develop a bond that not even we ourselves saw coming.

After our biggest fight to date, and hopefully the biggest fight we'll ever have, the time she shot my 'sperm donor'…our bond surprisingly strengthened. She was no longer just my best friend, she was my family…my sister, and I guess it came as an epiphany to both of us. After we'd got back from the hospital, apologized, we talked, laughed about how miserable we both were during the fight, she'd said with tears in her eyes, "Maura, you're the best friend I've ever had, you've been like a sister to me and I meant what I said to Ma, you're one of us now, I'm so sorry…I'm crying and you know I hate to cry, so you should know this is coming from my heart." She made me cry too and then we laughed about how we were crying like two teenagers.

I love my sister…because she's the best and I'm so grateful that she's in my life.