Author's Note: The characters of Rizzoli & Isles belong to Tess Gerritsen and TNT. I am not profiting from this story.

This story is about Jane's and Maura's first case (the one I made up anyway.) I wanted to explore the beginning of the friendship and later have that build into something more. This is my first attempt at writing any type of fan fiction so reviews are appreciated!

Chapter One

"Dr. Isles?" Detective Rizzoli poked her head through the double doors leading into the morgue.

"Hello… Dr. Isles?"

Why was the morgue always so creepily lit?

I can't see a damn thing!

It was just one of the things that made coming down here to discuss cases with whichever M.E. had taken up residence at BPD so awful. Also, somehow it always smelled too clean – the astringents used to sterilize death felt caustic in her nose and lungs.

But something was different this time. The detective stood in the doorway studying the large room that had just been turned over to Dr. Maura Isles in the last week. She scanned the room from left to right, from closest to her to farthest away. She used this same tactic when looking over a crime scene to ensure that she didn't miss anything. She would then study the same scene in reverse to make sure she didn't miss anything important.

What was different?

Organized. Definitely more organized. Files had been moved and placed in perfect piles and she could see that they were in order first by case open date and then alphabetically by vic's names. Pen holders, the stapler, three-hole punch and other necessary desktop items were perfectly in line with each other from largest to smallest. This certainly was a turn from Dr. Witska who left things wherever he decided to stop his work to take a nap, and who could never find what he needed under piles of fast food wrappers and days old coffee cups.

Detective Rizzoli wasn't sad to see the 50-something year old M.E. leave and take with him his rumpled appearance and smell of formaldehyde.

What else?

The smell… yes. Somehow it seemed less offensive this time. Her nose didn't feel as though it was on fire. What was that? The detective's eyes closed as she inhaled deeply, allowing the calming and fruity smell to permeate her thoughts.

"Hello, Detective Rizzoli."

"Jesus Christ!" Detective Rizzoli yelled, jumping back and instinctively grabbing for the holster on her left hip that held her gun.

Dr. Isles looked equally surprised and offended by the detective's behavior. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Dr. Isles noticed the dilated pupils, taller stance, and heavier breathing of the detective as she responded in the classic fight-or-flight manner.

"You didn't scare me. I'm a cop. I don't scare." There was a definite edge to the detective's voice.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of detective; you are after all a human. And there's no reason for you to lie about it either. While I spend most of my time with expressionless dead people, I am a doctor nonetheless and therefore am studied in the response of the human anatomy to various environmental, biological, and psychological influences."

Detective Rizzoli wasn't used to being called out and wasn't sure how to respond initially. But as she had surmised that the doctor posed no threat, she decided not to take offense – or push the matter further.

"I… uh. I just came down here to see if you had finished your report on the double homicide from earlier this week."

"Oh. The Wallaces? Yes. I finished the autopsies yesterday and sent samples for analysis to the lab. I typed up my preliminary findings this morning before yoga… Detective? Why are you still standing in the door way?"

Dr. Isles had turned, expecting to see the detective walking in pace with her, but she was still a good 20 feet away at the doors to the morgue.

For the second time in a matter of minutes Dr. Isles had caught her off guard.

"Well… not that I really minded, considering his smell, but the last M.E. would have a fit if we entered past the doors of the morgue. He was always screaming about contaminating evidence."

"Oh." Dr. Isles cocked her head to the side slightly and squinted her eyes as though she was half in thought and half studying the detective.

"Well, I'm not the old M.E.. While it is true that I would expect anyone entering the morgue to don appropriate sterile attire during an actual autopsy, I see no reason you cannot enter the morgue as your walking through would be no different than what I am doing now." Dr. Isles gestured to herself and widely to the surroundings.

"Oh. OK. Thanks." The tall woman quickly closed the gap between them without losing her swagger. It came naturally, as an independent and confident woman who had also become quite accomplished in her male-dominated field.

"Also, detective, if you'll forgive me for staying side-tracked for a moment, I would like you to call me Maura when we're not in the field. We'll be working together a lot and I see no reason why we can't have a comfortable working relationship."

She had done it. Maura could sense the trembling in her voice and wondered if the astute detective had also sensed her nervousness. Maura had sworn that she would try to make a friend now that she was in a new city. While she wasn't adept at social interaction, she had learned enough through research and observation that offering to be called by a first name instead of a title indicated a welcome of informality, and eventually, closeness.

Besides, she trusted the detective. She saw her thoroughness in the field and that had garnered the doctor's respect. It didn't hurt either that when an officer on the scene was making lewd comments about her dress that the detective didn't bat an eye before giving him a thorough tongue lashing. (She still didn't understand why anyone would take offense at her wearing a dress and heels to a crime scene, as if her attire had any impact on her training and ability as a M.E.)

Detective Rizzoli walked straight up to the officer who was twice her size and had a hundred pounds on her and placed her face no more than six inches from his. Clearly inappropriate in normal social interaction, but her intent to intimidate was effective.

When the detective finally turned away Maura could have sworn she left the other officer in tears. He was definitely at a loss for words from that point on. She gave a look to Maura that said, "There's always one idiot in the crowd." If she hadn't known better she would have sworn that the detective even winked at her.

"OK." The detective shrugged, bringing Maura back to reality. Her posture did not indicate that she noticed the monumental task Maura had just completed. "Feel free to call me Jane."

Maura gathered the two case files and neatly put back together the stack of files on her desk. She held them out to Jane.

"Thanks, I'll read these right away and get back to you with any questions."

Jane's and Maura's hands both lingered on the case files for longer than was customary. Jane had been staring into Maura's eyes the entire time. What was the detective thinking? Was she still trying to size Maura up or was it something else?

Maura absorbed every feature of the detective. Her long, dark hair lay perfectly in waves around her face with no effort. Her soft, brown eyes, narrow nose, high cheek bones, square jaw, and her… her… lips… with….

Maura watched Jane leave the morgue and felt slightly abashed when she realized that not only was she watching, she was staring. And not only was she staring, but Jane saw her staring once she turned in the elevator to hit the button for her floor.