A/N: Just a quick little oneshot that was distracting me. Got some coarse language but that is about all. Hope you guys like. Please let me know what you think! Now, I'm getting back to work on my other story. Thanks for staying with me! You guys are the best!
What a fucking day!Could it be any colder this early in the fall? Fuck. Jane Rizzoli flashed her badge to the uni on line detail and tossed a nod his way as he waved her through past the gathering hoard of morbid onlookers and yellow crime scene tape. Shutting the engine off, she flexed aching hands for what felt like the thousandth time and rubbed at the still bright pink burning scars on her palms only to learn that … for the thousandth time... the action didn't make a dent in the relentless pain. Still, looking through the windshield into the foggy, gray landscape of the broken down warehouse district, she knew that it was the type of day where you could see and feel the dampness of the air before stepping foot outside. Unfortunately for her, she had acquired a new super power when that monster's scalpels had sliced cleanly through to pin her to the dirty floor of the basement; she could feel the rain before it happened and by the depth of the ache she was experiencing currently, she'd be lucky to make it back to headquarters without getting soaked. She quickly glanced around the cabin of her cruiser cursing at no one in particular. "Shit. No umbrella. Fantastic."
Taking a deep breath, she exited the car and took in her surroundings, a tingle of excitement stirring in her gut. This was Boston. Her Boston. She had worked her ass off to elbow and fight her way up to Homicide Detective and, by god, the thrill of being the best at what you do, solving the tough cases and putting the bad, sick fucks away was thrumming through her veins at the moment. Oh yeah. I'm back. Take that, Charles Fucking Hoyt. She had spent a month and a half off on paid leave, mandatory psych evals out the ass and excruciating PT to get her back to basic qual levels. Against her doctor's wishes, she had spent every spare moment on the firing range and in the gym; pushing the pain into such a far reaching cold dark place that no one would ever see it again. She had to be sure that when she was released for active duty, when she was able to rejoin the brotherhood of her fellow detectives, not one would think twice about whether or not she was capable or whether or not she deserved to have his back under any circumstances.
Flexing her hands again and again, she approached the guarded entrance, assuming her Detective Rizzoli façade with each step; a brief grimace and low growl her only outward signs that she recognized Darren Crowe. Her hands stilled all movement as she approached her widely disliked colleague with a curt nod. "Frost make it here yet?" She looked around not finding her newly assigned, younger partner. They had spent the last four weeks on desk duty working cold cases and assisting other investigations, sharing occasional lunches and limited stories. She would admit to no one that she had a soft spot for the kid. Transferred in from Robbery he was new to Homicide and that rarely translated to a warm welcome, the closed group that they were. Honestly, she still felt the need every day to prove her worth to her brothers in blue.
Darren's grin seemed to morph into a snarl as he tilted his head toward the adjoining alley entrance. "Oh, your new boytoy is losing his breakfast." His laughter couldn't be contained as he continued. "Seems dead bodies make him sick." Slapping his knee he expected some sort of collaborative jibe from his fellow detective, even if she were a female. Instead, he was met with stone cold dark brown eyes. "Cut him some slack, alright? This is our case now and I'm going to need him to focus."
Crowe's ire was immediate. "What the hell do you mean, your case? This is my case, that's why I called it in. You and the rest are here as a courtesy to help out." He stepped into the lanky woman's space. "To help ME out." Their eyes locked in battle, neither backed down in posture and Jane had to admit it; she loved these moments when she bested the obnoxious Detective. Her smile was polite as she delivered the cous de gras. "LT called me in on this one." With a friendly wink that belied actual friendship, "It's mine and Frost's. But I really appreciate all you can give me." She didn't miss the clench of a weak jaw or the roll of dark eyes. Putting her best effort forward, her voice lowered into semi-sincerity, a mock plea for solidarity from her fellow officer. "Come on Crowe; just tell me what you've got so we can put this shit to bed."
Rolling his eyes, he led Jane into the dark warehouse lit by the harsh artificial lighting of the tech boys. Winding his way through dusty crates and left behind squatter paraphernalia, he decided passing this one off wasn't so bad. "You got a dead guy in here, looks like a banger, all hip hop stupid ass street clothes and a pop between the eyes. This location? I'm thinkin' maybe a drug element." Stopping short, Jane almost ran into his back and grimaced at the smell of his cheap cologne. Her hand came up to her nose as eyes met beady dark ones. "So you met the new M.E.?"
Motioning with her hand for them to continue so she could possibly get a breath of stale dusty air to cleanse the nasty sweet drug store stench, dark brows furrowed. "No. Um. No. I've been riding a desk since old Slocumb retired. Tell me he's better than that loony bin." Crowe stopped again and her dark eyes rolled in rebellion. "She's a real live piece of work." His beady eyes narrowed into nothing, "She says it's 'her' crime scene and won't even let us near it until she's done. The bitch won't call obvious blood blood and is all about waiting until she can get the body back to the lab. She's really creepy... I mean she's fucking hot but…," He caught Jane's eyes with a heavy meaning. "I could see her being that way. You know? Into dead people and shit?" Crowe had chosen his side so it was only natural that Jane would take the opposite.
Nodding noncommittally, she stepped into the crime scene proper, well lit by halogen lights and generators. Carefully, she walked the perimeter, circling the edge as she studied the unfortunate dead man, the macabre centerpiece. All sound and motion retreated to the background as her careful eyes took in every detail offered. Crouching at one end, her thoughts were completely focused on the sight before her; young male, 21-25, laid out in gang colors and a hat that endorsed his 'alliance' but all wasn't as it seemed. Chewing her nail, her thoughts were broken by a steady staccato tap, drawing closer. Shaking her head a little lost in her own thoughts and theories of this death, she looked up to find a stunning woman in what had to be a high end designer dress based on the way it hugged and accentuated her curves strutting forth on four inch heels to the edge of the tape before stopping abruptly and slipping on booties and snapping on purple gloves. Conclusions drawn, Jane scowled and stood, watching the proceedings from the knot of her fellow officers.
"Well there goes our solve rate," she smirked, glad to hear the accompanying albeit soft chuckles. Korsak's hand on her shoulder drew her attention, her head snapping around. "You might want to give her a chance, Janie. She comes highly recommended." Surprised to even get two words from her former partner that had for the most part been ignoring her after her reassignment, she snarled. "Really?" Have you seen what Princess Barbie is wearing? I mean… what the fuck? Do they really expect us to solve murders this way? Next you'll be telling me we are doing a reality series… stupid housewives of Boston. And don't call me Janie."
Maura Isles understood that she was not well received in her place of business. The doctor was used to others being put off by her line of work and close association with the dead. She had been awarded the position of Chief Medical Examiner of Boston on merit and she knew without a doubt that she was overqualified for the position but it seemed that each time she walked into a fresh crime scene, she were proving herself anew. Taking a deep breath, she stopped at the perimeter and slipped blue booties over her Christian Louboutin limited edition shoes, her mind blocking all else as her keen eye studied the scene, first and foremost on the victim lying under harsh lighting as she absorbed everything. Here in the now, she didn't care what her co-workers thought. She wanted justice for this slain soul. Gangbanger or priest, justice was justice to her and this body had a story to tell. She moved slowly forward, her eyes finally taking in those around her, for the most part, officers she had met before and that she knew called her names behind her back. Catching an unusual shade of dark chocolate, she paused as their gaze held until the other woman looked away. She's new to the scene. Must be Detective Rizzoli. A little off balance by the exchange, Maura crouched next to the body, her instincts kicking in. Taking measurements and temperatures, noting rigor etc., she took fastidious notes and felt more at ease and in her element, the surrounding activity melting away into the quiet of her mind.
Jane watched the doctor's movements closely; the burning in her hands undeniable as she once again felt the need to prove herself to the boys' club. Glancing around the guys in her circle, she smirked. "Let's see how Dr. Project Runway handles pressure." Moving forward quietly, she crouched closely behind the doctor, so close that she could smell the medical examiner's high priced shampoo and something else that she couldn't quite place as she peered over a Gucci clad shoulder at the body, ruffling soft curls with her breath. "So, Doc. Forty caliber GSW to the head. Nasty business, probably worse ways to die though." She smiled when she noticed the slight startle but leaned back some at the icy glare she received. Whoa. This woman really is frosty.
Maura didn't miss the chuckles coming from the small gathering of men on the other side of the room nor did she miss the smirk on the female detective's attractive face. She had expected the teasing treatment from the males of the unit; she had experienced the same at the beginning of her stint as ME in San Francisco. It took time for the quality of her work to outweigh the natural fear of the unknown. She had hoped, quite foolishly, that she and the only other female might possibly bond somewhat over shared gender. Apparently, it was an erroneous assumption; especially for someone who did NOT make assumptions.
Seething, she stood to her full height, not caring to move back when their bodies brushed together due to the close proximity and smiled inwardly when the brash officer moved away slightly. She took the moment to allow her eyes to rake over the detective's lanky form. She was dressed in a hideous and unflattering pants suit, one that appeared too large and off the wrack held up by an interesting round pewter belt buckle. Eyes traveling upward, she amended her previous thought. The suit, albeit a terrible cut and fabric wasn't the least bit unflattering on the modelesque stature of the woman before her but this confrontation wasn't about fashion at all; it was about respect. Her voice was low and steely, cool and controlled as hazel green eyes narrowed dangerously and she locked her gaze on amused warm brown. "First of all Detective, I would appreciate some respect in regards to my personal space. Secondly…" her eyes flashed at the group of men who all of a sudden seemed to have better things to do. "You may or may not have heard but I do not take part in mere speculation at any of my crime scenes. Often times, things are not as cut and dried as they appear." Pulse increasing, she stepped close enough to smell the mint on shared breath, chin tilted upward in defiance. "For you though, I would like to demonstrate. While it appears that a large caliber projectile piercing the frontal lobe would most likely be cause and manner of death, did you take a moment to notice the lack of blood present on the scene or the fact that there is an adhesive residue on both of his wrists and ankles that would suggest he had been bound prior to death?" Cocking a well manicured brow, "My guess would be duct tape because I have seen it countless times but I will not know for certain until the lab results come back." Dark eyes narrowed, "I would imagine that since I left specific instructions that the body be undisturbed until I had the chance to perform my preliminary examination that you have not made note of the petechial hemorrhaging nor the abrasions on the victim's throat that would suggest strangulation, not to mention the crushed trachea. That is usually a pretty straightforward indicator. Our job, Detective, is to bring justice to these poor souls who can no longer speak for themselves whether or not they come from Back Bay or South Boston…they deserve our best work so I suggest that you let me get back to it."
It was official… Jane felt like a shit. Fuck! Why had she let herself fall into the bullshit trap? Trying to impress the muckety mucks by being an asshole to this… she eyed the medical examiner from head to well heeled toe with a frown… this gorgeous albeit extremely frustrating and uptight anal retentive woman who dressed entirely inappropriately for a crime scene. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and clenched her jaw, preparing to do something she did not do on a regular basis; apologize. Jane hadn't been one to let others influence her behavior before Hoyt, she was never a 'joiner' and she sure as hell wasn't about to pick up that bad habit now. Shit, she could remain on the outside and be happier for it. Still. She went to her go-to bag of tricks and pulled out humor.
Maura watched the detective closely and reluctantly, ignoring the, in her mind, unwarranted disappointment that it seemed she and the brooding Italian were not to be friends after all. After a beat of silence, she was rewarded by the shake of unruly dark curls and a blinding white smile under softened warm brown eyes. "Well done, Doctor Isles. It seems you know what you are doing. I'm…" Her nose wrinkled before she could force the words out. "Sorry."
The medical examiner stood glued to the spot, confusion spreading as she studied the sculpted features before her for signs of sincerity. It was only the second time she heard that voice but somehow, there was something strangely familiar in that raspy timbre that made her want to believe the spoken words. As their meaning filtered through her brain, she was angry again, stepping even closer into the detective's space, feeling the warmth radiate between them as she pointed an accusatory gloved finger. "You were testing me?" She felt at once exhilarated, alive with the opposition and anxious to best this clearly more than worthy adversary. She held that warm dark gaze intently as it flicked over her shoulder before widening and everything spiraled out of control. "GUN!" was shouted as she felt a long lean arm curl around her narrow waist and spin her in the opposite direction before she was tackled, falling toward the hard concrete floor of the warehouse. Maura braced for the surely jarring impact but it never came; only a rush of breath from her lungs as the detective's body covered hers, her face buried against warm skin, long slender arms wrapped around and holding her close in protection.
The gun shots and shouts were immediate and the medical examiner's heart raced with fear, her breaths becoming shallow with the weight of the woman on top of her, shielding her. God! Was Jane shot? Since when had she become Jane? She could hear several male voices yelling 'clear' and was relieved when the detective pulled back, obvious signs of intense pain marring her face before the professional mask fell back into place and focused brown eyes found hers with worry. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She couldn't speak. She blinked rapidly trying to still her racing heart and just nodded. "Yes. I'm fine. I…" She couldn't complete a sentence, knowing the consequences.
Jane studied the wide hazel green eyes so close to her own intently, brow furrowed a little as she felt rapid puffs of warm air on her cheek. Pushing herself up by the palms she winced and covered as quickly as possible, the pain not abating but not willing to appear weak to anyone else in the room. Standing she brushed her pants off in an effort to occupy her hands; balling and shoving her burning left deep into her pants pocket before offering the stunned doctor her right in aid which she took rather shakily. Upon closer examination, the petite medical examiner, well if she weren't wearing four inch heels, appeared ghostly white and unsteady, the skin of her brow clammy. Oh shit. She had seen the signs of someone about to faint before and she knew it would do nothing for the 'new girl's' rep to lose it at a crime scene. Stepping closer, she dipped her head down and caught those mesmerizing eyes again. "Are you sure you are okay?"
Maura could not let this happen. Of all of her idiosyncrasies, her quirks that her co-workers found strange, she could not, would not allow this to happen at a crime scene, her domain. Pleading silently with dark brown eyes, she was forever grateful when she felt a strong hand at her elbow and that gravely voice yelling at the surrounding chaos. "I'm getting Dr. Isles out of here while you secure the damn scene! Make it happen people!" They wound their way through the nasty corridor of crates with the doctor leaning heavily on the detective for support. She wanted to be embarrassed but at the moment all she could feel was indebted… that is until they passed Darren Crowe at the entrance to the warehouse. "Whoa, looks like the Queen of the Dead has met her match."
The detective stopped abruptly causing the doctor to flounder a little before she looked up at the cold stone set of a chiseled jaw. Dark fiery eyes found hers, and the raspy voice became a growl. "You okay? Give me a minute?" Maura couldn't explain the warmth she felt from this woman's attentions. Only moments ago, weren't they adversaries? Were they at all? She shook her head at the thought, bracing against the doorframe as she watched the taller of the two come to a stop in front of the wide eyed bald man. She couldn't hear what was spoken but could tell that it wasn't friendly.
Jane had reached her quotient of bullshit for the day, pissed at herself for being a dumbass, she wasn't about to take any more of Crowe's crap. Nodding at the still stumbling doctor, she made sure she was braced against the threshold before she turned on her fellow detective. Clenching her jaw and her exposed right hand she brought up a menacing finger just inches from his face. "I've had enough of your shit, Crowe. If I so much as hear you breathe one word against the best ME we've had in years, one that knows her ass from a hole in the ground, I'll personally make you sorry. You got that? No more Queen of the Dead bullshit or you'll answer to me. Now why don't you go do your JOB as first responder and make sure the fucking scene is secure before anyone gets hurt?" Honestly, she had no idea where her words were coming from. She only knew that the new doctor was capable… beyond that, she was going on her gut. Well, and her hatred for Darren Crowe who had made her life a living hell ever since she was first promoted to Homicide Division some years ago.
Her business finished, she rejoined the medical examiner and led her outside with a firm grip to her elbow, clenching and unclenching her jaw, the occasional flash of pain making her eyes water. Once in the open, damp air, the detective searched the surrounding area, her gaze landing on the sleek Mercedes coup just outside of the crime scene tape with a roll of dark eyes. Of course, that was her ride. Without asking, she guided the still silent doctor over to the sports car and opened the unlocked passenger door, nodding for the smaller woman to sit. "You really shouldn't leave your doors unlocked. Especially on a car like this…in a neighborhood like this." It was the first words spoken between them since before the gun wielding druggie appeared out of nowhere. "So I take it that was your first time to be…"
Brilliant hazel green flashed up and caught her eyes. "Shot at? Yes. That would be a correct assumption… although I myself am not a fan of guessing." She smiled a self deprecating smile as she shook her head a little. "But I'm sure you've figured that out for yourself." The throaty chuckled forced the doctor's smile a little wider and she looked away shyly for a moment before returning her gaze to dancing chocolate brown. "Thank you… for what you did for me in there. I…um. Well, of course, you saved my life but for the other thing. I…" She swallowed nervously unsure why she was so willing to share a part of herself that most people found odd in the least and downright freakish at the worst with this woman. "I…well, when I attempt to prevaricate even in the mildest of ways I tend to exhibit a vasovagal response."
Brows furrowed, Jane squatted down and placed a steadying hand on the doctor's knee as if being at eye level would somehow miraculously enable her to understand the words just spoken. She was rewarded by another small smile as the doctor attempted to explain further. "I can't lie... not even in the smallest of ways… not even white lies which I never really understood the distinction since a lie is a lie no matter what… Anyway, if I do, I experience bradycardia, my heartbeat slows and the blood vessels in my legs dilate, pressure drops when blood is directed to the outer extremeties and away from the brain which is then deprived of oxygen…" Maura recognized the blank stare only too well and she smiled again. "I faint."
Really? All those words… Dark chocolate eyes widened as a quick mind processed and the detective returned the smile as if this new piece of information might come in handy at a later date. "OOooh," she drawled. "So you can't lie? Really? That's…" Maura's face fell imperceptibly as she waited for judgment of the peculiar trait. "That's kind of cool actually." Hazel green eyes snapped up. "So when I asked you back there if you were okay and you said 'yes' you really were going to faint because you weren't okay?" Dark eyes sparkled and the doctor would almost swear she could see the wheels turning in the detective's brain if the phenomenon were even possible. Finally a devious grin spread across sculpted features. "So Doctor Isles, I have two questions for you; do you like this jacket with this blouse and do you play poker?"
Maura snorted a laugh, unlike any laugh she reserved for public venues and shook her head as she eyed the woman before her, dark brow raised in challenge. "Please call me Maura and to answer your questions, Detective, no… on both counts." She was pleased by the temporary look of shock that graced Jane's features, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water before that warm, gravely chuckle volleyed between them again. The sudden sharp intake of breath left the doctor stunned, so out of place in the current lightened mood. Concerned hazel green studied the quick flash of pain and the way the detective flexed her visible right hand as she made to stand, her left now hidden in her coat pocket. The doctor had read the file on Detective Rizzoli and her encounter and subsequent capture of the serial killer Charles Hoyt. Her keen mind developed a quick timeline and deduced that she was probably only three to three point five months post-op. She winced in sympathy at the thought of the pain the other woman must be experiencing, feeling a surprising compulsion to offer comfort.
Jane's standing was interrupted by cool slender fingers curled around her right wrist. Dark eyes flashed to hazel green and the touch disappeared as quickly as it had materialized. "Oh, I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean to startle you. It's just that…" Thinking back to the way the detective had shielded her and absorbed the blow of their fall, she was almost certain she had injured her left, dominant hand. "Do you mind if I…" A delicate hand waved between them. A long time student of body language, she didn't miss the stiffening of posture or the way dark eyes darted around making sure that they weren't being watched by co-workers. Her voice softened as she stood close in the small space between a lithe body and the cold steel of her Mercedes. "We can change places. No one will be able to see… Please." She waited, watching hopefully as the detective seemed to weigh her offer before finally lowering her lanky form down onto the supple passenger seat with a grunt, running her right hand through unruly curls nervously before slowly producing her scraped and bleeding left.
What the hell Rizzoli? Since when do you show weakness? Jane let out a held breath. Truly, she was exhausted trying to keep up her efforts in the gym and on the firing range and damn if her palm didn't hurt like a motherfucker. She watched intently as the petite medical examiner took her former position, squatting between long outstretched legs, holding her gingerly by the fingertips as she studied the fresh abrasions with a scowl. Leaning forward, their bodies brushed together faintly as a black leather bag was retrieved from the floorboard. Warm hazel green eyes held her gaze as tweezers were produced. "Do you mind if I…?" A silent nod in answer she watched caramel curls fall forward as the doctor carefully and gently plucked out some debris before swabbing it lightly with an alcohol prep until finally satisfied that the wound was clean, finishing her ministrations with a wrap of bright white gauze secured by deft fingers and medical tape.
"Thanks," she managed to mumble, uncomfortable with the uncharacteristic show of cracks in the armor. She hadn't allowed anyone to touch her hands since the… not even her mother. Flexing her right, she valiantly tried to change the subject. "It's going to rain, you know?" She flashed her best grin albeit with a little less mirth behind it. And there it was again. The feather light touch of two fingers against her arm and questioning eyes asking permission. She swallowed around the lump in her throat and nodded slightly.
Maura could not understand why she felt like they were sharing an intimate moment or her need to ease this woman's pain, if only temporarily. As gently as possible she opened the detective's fist and studied the placement of the twin scars with a clinician's eye. "You were lucky…" The flinch was immediate and she held her ground, refusing to release the fingers in her grasp, quick to clarify her careless statement, her gaze sincere. "No….NO. I just meant that…" Biting back medical explanation, she knew she needed to fix the awkward tension. "If the scalpel had been placed a fraction of an inch to the left or right and had severed the extensor digi…what I mean to say is the tendons that control flexion in the fingers. You could've possibly lost a majority of…" Her eyes dropped as she slowly massaged the scarred hand in her grasp, careful to avoid the still tender cicatrix. "I'm sorry, Detective. I often say things that I wish I could take back. You have probably determined by now that I'm not the most proficient in social situations."
Fast anger quickly drained and Jane chuckled. "Don't we all? Say things we wish we could take back, I mean?" A dark brow raised and an apology was accepted. "And you might as well call me Jane." Standing on long legs she pulled the doctor up with her and smiled shyly. "Thanks for that…" She flexed her hand in clarification. "They really do feel better." Looking contemplative for a moment, "Actually better than they have in a while. Hmmm. Quite the skillful fingers you have there, Maur." The medical examiner flushed slightly. She was never one for pet names and certainly had never seen the purpose of nicknames but the doctor let that one go. Somehow, in that raspy coarse voice, it sounded right in the way it rolled off Jane's tongue. Natural. She brushed her palms on the wrinkled skirt of her dress and put her bag back in the car before matching her strides with the longer one's of the detective as they headed back toward the crime scene. "So…" Again, the low rumble snapped her back to the present. "It's Friday and a couple of usually go to the Robber for drinks after work. You should come too."
At the doctor's protest, Jane stopped and gestured between them. "Oh come on now, Maura. Live a little." She leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering her voice to a low growl. "I'll let you in on a little secret…" Glancing around, she could hardly hide her smile. "Those dead guys will wait until Monday. They really aren't going anywhere." She was surprised by the swat to her shoulder and the way the doctor used her name. "Jane." With one word, she managed to convey exasperation and humor in a compact, single syllable. The lanky detective couldn't deny that she enjoyed the sound of it in the doctor's voice as her grin widened and they turned back toward the warehouse. "Now. Come on… let's go give Crowe some shit." Maura's laughter was definitely something Jane could get used to hearing. Maybe this day wasn't a total loss after all.
There it is guys! Hope you liked. Please let me know. Cheers!