A/N: Well hey there. Sorry if the first thing you don't want to read is an Author's Note. But I figured I'd get all the disclaimers out there at once. Rizzoli and Isles is not mine. They will never be mine. This is just how I flex my figurative creative muscle.

Chapter 1: Isn't She Riveting?

Maura entered the local grocer, her feet taking her quickly, automatically, down the right aisles. She needed to be out of there in a hurry. Her parents were coming for dinner. Again. They'd been making quite a habit of it ever since her husband Garrett had been drafted, two months ago, for what people deemed the Second World War.

Everything was going normally, smoothly even, as she found her ingredients easily. Flipping through her food ration booklet, she grabbed a few extra items that she had yet to use for the week. She was at the final item on her list, something sweet for her children, probably jam, when someone walked into the aisle with Maura. Instantly, all the honey-blonde's attention left the food.

The woman strolled down the aisle nonchalantly, grabbing things as she passed, not stopping to consider which brand. Her overalls functioned only as pants, the straps hanging in useless loops at her knees. Her arms were covered in soot, which only seemed to enhance their definition, making them look strikingly toned. Maura could see the exaggerated curves in her shoulders from the many laboring hours she probably worked.

And her face…even behind the grease smudges, she was a vision. Until Maura had seen her face, she was half-convinced the woman was not female. But the slimness of her jaw and her doe-eyes were so incredibly feminine, it was almost impossible to believe. Her curly brown hair was pulled back in what Maura guessed used to be a ponytail that nine hours of work had mussed. Wispy curls jutted out, framing her face and fluttering back with each of her steps. She was…well, she was enthralling.

Maura didn't realize how intently she was staring at the woman until her metal basket slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor, its contents spilling everywhere. The woman's eyes immediately snapped up at the sound, catching Maura's gaze. Maura froze, unable to tear her eyes away from the chocolate brown, afraid that the woman thought ill of her. She expected the woman to give her an uncomfortable look and walk away like everyone else did. But she didn't. She didn't even seem to notice that Maura had been staring as she rushed over, skidding onto her knees to retrieve the various dry ingredients that had scattered everywhere.

Maura tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry as she watched those strong arms stretch for her bag of flour. She willed her knees to bend, but they refused, so she stayed standing, looking down at the woman like a complete fool. Again, though, the woman didn't seem to notice, standing up and handing Maura the repacked basket.

"I-I'm sorry!" Maura blurted finally as her unsteady hand grasped the handle.

" 'Bout what? You just dropped your stuff. It happens to the best of us," she said with a chuckle.

"No. About not helping. I…I feel so inconsiderate."

"S'okay," the woman said simply, "Wouldn't want you ruining your pretty dress."

Confusion flashed in Maura's eyes as she managed to rip her eyes from the woman and down at herself. She wasn't wearing anything special. The skirt of her dress went just past her knees, pleated and cinching at the waist. The top resembled a simple button down with a collar at her neck. The color was nothing special, either, just a navy blue. Ever since her husband had been drafted, she'd been cutting back on luxuries, supporting the troops the only way she really knew how. Her eyes flicked back up to the strange woman's, and Maura smiled at her, but once again was lost as her eyes swept over the woman's attire.

"A-am I offending you?"

"What?" Maura asked in shock, her eyes narrowing as she tried to figure it out.

"How I look. Ma says I shouldn't go out in public like this. Says upper class'll find it offending. But I was…I was running late and I wanted to pick up Jules and Clara from school today…but we ran out of food, and—"

"You don't need to justify yourself!" Maura assured gently. "I'm not offended! Just...curious. Are you…a riveter?"

The woman gave a crooked smile, her eyes brightening, and Maura's heart fluttered.

"Damn Rosie, stealing all the publicity. And to think that was a whole year ago."

It was Maura's turn to worry if she'd offended the woman, but also proud that she had known something about popular culture. Everybody knew about Rosie. She had been on a magazine and a poster at all the war bond auctions around the country. She seemed to recall her mother mentioning another riveter poster created in Pittsburgh, but that one wasn't nearly as famous as Norman Rockwell's cover.

Then Maura remembered to worry again about offending the woman, but the brunette's smile never faltered.

"We work in pairs. Riveters and rivet buckers. Riley's my riveter, I'm her rivet bucker."

Maura wanted to contain her questions, to keep to her own business, but she couldn't seem to hold her tongue. Who was this woman, dressed in men's clothes, no wedding band to speak of, yet talking about children and….work? It was a life Maura had once thought was only fantasy, and she was absolutely furious with herself as another question slipped out her lips.

"What does that entail?"

Jane smiled, happy to describe. "Riveters got the gun to shoot rivets. Those rivets are used to hold two sheets of metal together for the fighter plane covering. Rivet buckers have to smooth out the rivets on the underside with a bucking bar," she said excitedly, a bright glint in her eye. "We build fighter planes."

"That explains your well-developed trapezius and deltoid muscles."

"These?" Jane asked, indicating her arms, "Or these?" now pointing to her shoulders.

Maura couldn't help but smirk at the woman's cockiness.

"Shoulders."

"You don't get out much, do you?"

Maura shook her head, extending her hand.

"Maura," she said with a smile. A genuine smile.

The woman reached for the hand, then paused, her eyes flicking to her dirty palm. Maura ignored it, taking the hand herself and giving it a light squeeze.

"Jane," the brunette said warily, looking down at their hands, when she saw something else.

Maura's leather wristwatch.

"Shoot!" Jane breathed, pulling her hand back to look at the watch more closely. "Is that the time?! I have to go!"

"Did you want a ride?" Maura asked in genuine concern.

Jane paused, unsure of exactly what Maura was talking about. Then she remembered. Upper class woman. Car.

"No. No, it's okay. Thanks though!" she said, turning to go.

She stopped, then turned around again.

"I'll see ya 'round, Maura," Jane assured, flashing another side-smile before darting down another aisle.

Maura's brow furrowed, her eyes dropping to the floor, landing on Jane's basket, full of the groceries she'd forgotten in her haste. She felt bad for a moment, but then something else bothered her. Jane had seemed so sure that they'd meet again. So incredibly set. How they'd ever see each other again, Maura was not sure. She didn't know anything about Jane.

Jane, the Rivet Bucker.

No wonder the media had gone with riveter. It certainly rolled off the tongue more easily.

One final thing. This is my 'I don't bite' promise, in case you want to review, but are afraid of me. Either way, I promise I don't bite. I'll just tell you how much I love you. A writer is nothing without an audience. Simple as that, so the fact that you read makes whatever I wrote worthwhile. Any words you have to offer would just be an added bonus. At any point. Whether you read this when I first publish it or months after. So I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for taking the time to read. I've got a long journey planned...so stick with me if you want to feel the burn. Otherwise, it was nice of you to at least give it a try. I know AU is not for everyone.

Signed,

Your humble author.

ps - many thanks to jake67jake, cstarj, and OoglieBooglie. They've all been very patient with me.