AN- Next up is Cinderella (in case you didn't notice). This is really just because, not that I don't love Marx's idea of Beauty and the Beast because I do, but because I actually had this crossover thought out before Sleeping Beauty. However I needed to watch Ever After again before I attempted to write it. And since I did that today, well, yea. Don't worry Marx, Beauty and the Jane is coming next. ;) Oh, and I'm thinking some smut wound in nicely here too, so don't worry. I do love you guys. ;)

~SnapTobiume

Frank Rizzoli Senior knew every secret of his daughter's. She, after all, had always been his favorite child. She was the first born, the loveliest in his opinion. Don't misunderstand; he did love all of his children. Jane had just always been his favorite. When Angela would go on vacation somewhere, she would bring the boys to wherever it was she went. He would take Jane hunting, fishing, riding. Whatever she wanted to do, wherever she wanted to go. It was at the age of nine, when he turned from his car to give her his third hug of farewell that day.

"Papa, do you have to go?" She whined, and he nodded, his expression unhappy as he did so.

"Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it. Now Janie, be nice to your brothers, and we'll be together again soon, alright?" She nodded smiling happily. Little did she know it would be the last time for many, many years. She stepped back, standing next to the brother closest to her, Frankie. He took her hand, smiling almost as sadly as she was. She returned the grip, watching as their father stepped into the car, accelerating slowly as he headed towards the gate of their farm. Angela turned towards the inside, Tommy following quickly.

"Wait!" Jane called out, causing her mother to turn. "Its tradition, he's going to wave once he reaches the gate." She watched closely, Angela turning to return inside. That was the moment that everything seemed to shatter, seemed to break into millions of pieces, and wouldn't be right again, for a very, very long time. The car screeched, swerving. Jane's face fell, and she dropped Frankie's hand the same moment she started running. The crack of the hood against the open gate, the splitting of metal was completely synchronized with Jane's scream. "Papa!" She kept running, hearing the others as they chased after her, Her mother nearly catching up to her as she slid to her knees beside her father's fallen form. He was gasping for breath, when she grabbed his hand, sobbing. "Papa, no. Papa, wake up. Please, papa." She cried out, shaking his shoulders. Angela dropped also, grasping for his free hand and clutching it as if it meant her last breath.

"Don't leave me here. Frank, don't you dare leave me here! Not like this!" He looked up to her, and then over to the crying Jane. With his free hand, he reached up, stroking his daughter's hair.

"Jan... ie..." He breathed. "I love you." The words were slow, quiet. Jane screamed with grief, even as Angela glared at her, for the first time in her life, jealous of another woman. Jealous of her daughter. But Frank was gone; and the only one he had said he loved was his little princess, Jane.

"Jane! Get up! It is time to get up!" The voice woke her from her sleep, almost immediately. Jane sprang up, looking down at her soot- streaked shirt, cursing herself for falling asleep beside the fireplace again. It was common for her to fall asleep there, simply thinking. It was cold nights such as these that she found it easiest to stare off into the flickering depths, and remember her father, happy, alive. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Jane stretched, pulling the first shirt she found and sniffing it. When she had come to the conclusion that it smelled clean enough, she pulled off the one from yesterday and pulling the newer one over her head. She then stoked the embers, causing the fire to come to life again before her eyes, before disappearing into the kitchen. As quickly as she could, Jane mixed eggs, heating up a pan on the stove as she did so, quickly tossing in the ingredients to fix what she had labeled the 'perfect' omelet. It was damned good, if she did say so herself. Frankie came running down the stairs quietly, quickly, checking over by the fireplace before turning in to the kitchen. A grin found its way across his face when he saw her, and he all but jumped up on to his stool. "Good, you're awake."

"You woke me up."

"Ma gets pissed if her breakfast isn't ready." Jane rolled her eyes, flipping the first omelet on to a plate for him, before starting a second and a third. There was the sound of someone else coming down the stairs, before she separated the sound into two pairs of feet, stomping equally loud. In a swift moment, Jane placed the two plates on the counter, dealing out silverware and napkins to each respectable setting. She then clicked the stove off, not having the ingredients to make a fourth omelet for herself. She ducked her head as she rinsed both her hands and her face in the sink, drying with a clean towel.

"Hey Janie, what a good morning it is! Fall asleep in the cinders again?" Tommy, her youngest sibling, mocked. She bit her tongue, swallowing the sarcastic retort that had risen, turning to face him as she began washing the dishes from the previous night.

"Good morning to you too, Tommy, Mother." She greeted. Frankie rose, pushing his plate beside her elbow as he approached. She looked down to see half an omelet waiting for her, and a sly little smirk across the older brother's lips. She gentled her steely gaze slightly. "Thank you." She only mouthed the words, and he nodded the tiniest bit, going back to the counter.

"You know, Jane, why'd you have to go and be a cop? Your job is too dangerous, you run the risk of being killed, and then who would do all the house work for us? It would be a disaster!" Angela began again, as she did nearly every morning. Jane heard her phone vibrate beside her hand, drying off her dominant left hand to open the text message. It was from Frankie, and she almost laughed out loud. He was always into trouble with her. They had always been tight. She read the message to herself.

"Hey, get out of the house. I mean... 'We have a body, over in the park off of Beacon Hill. Go forth, Agent!' Good luck to ya' sis, love ya'." She covered her smirk with a look of disdain, shutting off the water and drying her other hand.

"I've got a call, ma'. I'll see you both later." She reached for her coat, grabbing it off the hook as she yanked open the door with just a little too much force.

"Well, go shopping on your way back! Jane, groceries! Remember them! Oh, and pick up the dry cleaning too, if you would, dear." She slammed the door behind her, getting quickly into the unmarked police car supplied by her job. Again, she thanked her stars that the police department had supplied her with one. If not, well, she wouldn't have one, and she would be shit out of luck. She started the engine, heading off towards the park as quickly as she dared.