A/N - I couldn't stay away...here's another ff featuring everyone's favorite couple. This story takes place directly after BisB so I'd strongly suggest reading that one if you haven't already. Have fun reading.
Disclaimer: I don't own Jane Rizzoli or Maura Isles. No money is made off of this fanfiction, no matter how much love I put in it. Don't sue me TNT, my embarrassingly empty bank account is not worth the effort.
The ceiling tilted precariously with each heaving breath of the young woman as her eyes struggled to open. Reddened eyes met her prison for the first time; if she wasn't tied down by nylon restraints to her captor's bedframe, she would have even have gone so far to characterize the large loft space as normal. How long had she been here, the girl wondered before attempting for, what felt like, the fiftieth time since passing out previously to regain control of her limbs. Fear raced through her as the realization that she was never going to free herself entered her mind. All of her responsibilities flashed in brilliant focus; Mother depended on her to support the family since she was the only one who had shown a talent with something profitable and her three younger sisters looked up to her as their very own prima ballerina, no matter how many times she told them otherwise. The family would most surely starve without her income to support.
Clear trails of sadness trailed down the young woman's face before falling onto the tear soaked sheets. Her captor had never once moved from the foot of the bed, enraptured with the same hour long video of a young woman and man performing an elegant pas de deux of Swan Lake. Every part of the lithe woman's body ached to release the scream that had been bubbling in her throat since her capture but she resisted, knowing nothing would come of it except a quicker death, but as her body continued to ooze slow trails of blood from wounds that would never have a chance to heal, all she wished for was a release from the endless pain. The elegance she had prided herself on ever since her first class in the ballet was gone, her tongue fumbled upon itself in an effort to understand why this was happening to someone like her, someone with potential to be so great at her craft.
"Why," she managed to whisper pleadingly. "Why…are you doing…this…to me?"
The video suddenly stopped for the first time, plunging the claustrophobic room into complete darkness. The fear that had been building was now eradicated upon the feel of her captor's shuddering hands on the endless length of her long legs. Death awaited her; it was only a matter of time, now.
"I can't start the show without a sleeping beauty can I, little sister?" His question, left unanswered, as the syringe injected itself into its victim. With the young woman asleep, he could now begin his final production. The slap of rubber gloves echoed through the room as the man began his work.
!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!
Monday, 11:35 A.M.
This sucks, Jane Rizzoli thought as her hands clenched awkwardly at her sides while staring even more awkwardly away from Maura Isles' eager hazel eyes. Stupidly, Jane had agreed to accompany Maura, her best friend and now girlfriend, on an impromptu lunch date at the Dirty Robber. After their relationship had kindled over her bullet injury several months ago, they had slowly grown accustomed to the changing definition of their friendship. Maura had taken to being in a relationship surprisingly well and, in no time at all, she had begun using pet-names when they were alone. Each time Maura's lips uttered seemingly benign statements such as, "Honey, could you walk Jo Friday before you go in to work? Dogs that learn to hold their bowel movements tend to have a two percent chance of increased anxiety," or "Remember to wear your charcoal colored slacks tomorrow, sweetheart, because I spilt something on your brown ones," Jane's heart stopped in confusion, her mind working overtime to determine who exactly Maura was referring to. It wasn't as if Jane didn't like being called by the pet-names that Maura had given her, but it just felt…odd, to say the least.
Much to Maura's increasing chagrin, the brunette had yet to make the decision to tell her coworkers and family about their relationship together. In the first month of their budding relationship, Jane had continuously made excuses to not disclose what had become plainly obvious to anyone with a little bit of common sense with the reasoning that it was "still too soon." Now, with their third month together rapidly approaching, that reasoning was becoming harder and harder to use. Maura may be naïve, but she isn't stupid. Even she can put two and two together, and when she does…I'm going to end up feeling like a total ass for making her cry…again.
An exhausted sigh came from Jane's throat as her mind began drifting from the endless expectation of Maura's eyes and back to the safety of work. Interrogating suspects, questioning perps, dealing with the politics of the brass, and getting results with miniscule leads were all normal behavior to the detective; however, understanding the complexities of romances with her best friend were completely unknown. Why can't things just stay the way they are? We're happy, aren't we? We have a healthy working relationship, sometimes she stays over at my place and sometimes I stay over at her place, I have several of my work suits in her closet and I'm always tripping over her ever-increasing collection of neon colored Louboutins.
"Isn't that enough?" she asked herself in a whisper.
"Is what not enough, Jane? Do you want something more to drink?" Maura responded to the mentally unfocused brunette.
Jane froze before her brain woke up from its reverie. Her head shook before she noticed that Maura had left most of her food untouched on the plate. "You aren't eating."
"It's kind of hard to eat when my date is too busy spending quality time with her thoughts than with me." Maura said with a twinge of sarcasm before lowering her voice slightly. "We didn't have to have lunch together if you have other things going on, Jane. I'd rather have you call than have to endure watching you…disconnect yourself from me, again."
Jane's eyes looked up before her mind had a chance to process Maura's words. The hurt was evident, but her word choice was what mostly caught her attention. Coming from anyone else's mouth, the brunette would have felt nothing more than a mild irritation but from Maura, the word "disconnect" sounded similar to a curse. It cut through her heart with a level of destruction that scared her simply because no one had ever made her feel such pain before. Jane searched her hurt lover for some kind of apology that usually preceded these kinds of brief quarrels that they had been having recently, finding nothing except reflected pain and frustration. Typically, she responded in anger toward her girlfriend's words.
"Are we really fighting again?" The brunette spat out in a rising whisper. "Lately, that's all we ever do. I say something that hurts your feelings, you make a big fuss, and we fight, and then fall into bed with each other. When's the last time we talked? Like a conversation with input and response to that input."
Maura looked up briefly from playing with the lettuce on her plate, vitriol seeping from her pores. "It's kind of hard to have a conversation with someone when that person is too busy dreaming up new ways to badger people without violating their Fifth Amendment rights. Have you ever considered that the reason we've been fighting lately is because you don't want to talk to me? I know you, Jane. You use anger to hide what's really bothering you, that or work."
She always sees right through me, like I'm not even trying to hide my feelings. The sudden sensation of the caress of a hand Jane knew far too well traced her pant covered knee underneath the table, but even this simple act made her shiver in equal parts arousal and revulsion. In the last month, the anxiety she felt toward being with Maura had manifested itself into a clear disdain for any sort of public displays of affection. It was too much; going from friendship to relationship, kind smiles to intimate caresses, and having sleep-overs on top of the covers to underneath the covers was just too much, too soon for Jane to process. Just the idea of potentially allowing their private lives to become public fodder at the BPD rumor mill gave her the heebie-jeebies. The last thing Jane needed or wanted was Korsak and Frost having fireside chats about her intimacy issues with Maura. Eugh, just the idea of Korsak sitting in my house with a vest and no shoes while Frost gives advice on our sex life is just physically debilitating.
The blonde snapped her fingers loudly in Jane's face, causing her to jump up in surprise. "You're doing it again. Zoning in about work…you're gorgeous, Jane, but I do have limits in what I can take. Maybe we should just call this date an official failure and try again next week."
"Zoning in…you mean, zoning out? Yes, you probably meant to say that. I see you haven't been studying the idiom book I bought you last month." She mused with a slight smile, realizing her wittiness wouldn't change the mood. "But don't go…I'm sorry, I just…it's really hard for me to be open with my feelings. Let's try this again, alright? Hi, Maura, what's going on with you?"
The blonde's slight smile accompanied her barely noticeable eye roll as she resettled herself back in the cushioned seat. However, all efforts to start over were forgotten as Jane and Maura's phones went off at the same time, giving each other annoyed looks.
"Rizzoli."
"Isles."
