My computer's charger is completely fried so I'm uploading this from my phone.

I don't own anything even remotely related to Rizzoli and Isles.

My best friend is a well known doctor in almost every field of medicine even though she's only a pathologist; that is to say pathology is the only field in which she actively practices. She has a vast knowledge of just about everything. I call her Doctor Google most of the time. Somehow it always makes her smile and I live for those beautiful smiles. It's like looking upon the face of an angel.

I've been crushing pretty hard on her for a while now but she doesn't seem to reciprocate my feelings. I tell myself that it is going to be OK, and I should just be happy that she's my friend. And I am, happy that is, but I want more. I want to kiss her just because I can and I want to hold her hand as we walk through the Common.

It's getting harder and harder to control myself around her. She keeps doing these things, innocent and not so innocent things that set my insides ablaze and I can't do anything about it until I get home. Even that doesn't happen often since she always seems to find a reason for me to go to her house, and like a good puppy, I come when called.

I love being a homicide detective, I really do, but it's not really fulfilling anymore. It always feels like it's too late. Yes, I put the murderers behind bars but I feel like I could do so much more. I want to help people before they die, which is why I decided to be a paramedic with the BFD. I know it's not the same because most homicides are not an accident and chances are that a paramedic couldn't stop that. I guess I'm just tired of seeing dead bodies, or rather the actions of the most despicable human beings.

I told Maura my plans to become a paramedic one night over pizza and beer. I think she was more excited than I was.

We started spending even more time together as she was helping me with my studies. I want even sure a thing like that could happen, but it did. I didn't want anyone to know just yet and if anyone ever asked she didn't have to lie when she told then that she was helping me study. Everyone just assumed it was for the Sergeant's exam. She doesn't correct them.

Like I said, it is getting harder and harder controlling myself around her, which is why I'm in the bathroom right now trying to cool myself down. Maura is just a few feet away sitting on her bed naked from the waist up, though she may as well be completely naked with the tiny running shorts she has on. She suggested a hands on study method on the musculoskeletal system. Something about touch, especially skin on skin contact being one of the best methods of study for that system. Who knew.

I barely cast a glance her way before I told her I needed to use the restroom, I really just didn't want her to notice that my face was turning as red as one of Bass' strawberries. I know I can't hide in here forever. It's time to face the music.

I want to sit down on the bed next to her but my feet are not cooperating. Her beauty has stunned me to the point where I need to look down at my feet to make sure they haven't fused with the carpet. "Maura." My voice comes out more like a squeak and now I understand what my brothers went through when they were teenagers.

She lifts her head from my notes and she looks like something out of mythology. Like a goddess with a halo of golden hair and skin as soft as Angel wings or something to that effect. I still can't believe she's in my life at all.

"Come, Jane." She pats the space next to her.

Hey voice is like honey, sweet and smooth, and that alone is almost enough for me to do as she said and come, right there. I don't, thankfully, because there is no explaining that.

By some miraculous feat my legs start moving torward the bed and with every step my heart beat seems to challenge that of a hummingbird. I'm positive if Maura heard me say that she'd say that it would be impossible. I smile softly because this glorious woman has already taken residence in my mind.

I sit on what has become "my" side of the bed. She turns to face me and we are both sitting crisscross applesauce. I have to force myself not to look down at her chest, but Saint Michael playing checkers, do I want to.

My hand shakes slightly as I reach out to touch her arm. I run my hand down the upper half of her arm and I have a hard time concentrating. Her skin really is as soft as Angel wings. She mistakes my silence for not knowing and simply says, "Deltoid."

I actually knew that one. I nod.

"How about this, I'll say a muscle and you touch it, okay?"

"Okay" it comes out an octave lower than I meant but she doesn't seem to notice.

She starts easy.

"Tricep." I run my hand over the back of her arm.

"Trapezius"

I reach around and run my hand over her upper back. I feel a small raise back there and take note that It must be a scar. I make a mental note to ask her later.

"Gastrocnemius"

I take one of her legs and unfold it. I run my hand across her calf before letting it rest back on the bed.

She turns and lays on her stomach. I never really noticed how smooth the plane of her back was.

"Latissimus Dorsi"

I place both hands on her spine midway down her back and run them outwards. A soft moan escapes her lips and I stop breathing. I force myself to focus but her reactions are making it difficult.

"Sternocleidomastoid"

I hesitate long enough for her to raise herself on her elbows and look back at me.

"Sternocleidomastoid" she repeats.

I lightly run my finger down the side of her neck. I silently cheer when I feel her shiver. She says my name in an exhale. I feel emboldened by her reaction and use my nails to trace the muscle again. This time her moan is more audible. She can see what I am going to do next. I'm moving slowly so she has time to tell me to stop. She doesn't, and I kiss along her neck.

She turns over and lays on her back. She pulls me by my t-shirt and kisses me. I guess a cliche is a cliche for a reason because I see stars explode behind my eye lids when my lips touch hers. When we break the kiss she calls out another muscle.

"Pectoralis Major"

I lower my head and kiss just above her right breast. Kissing her doesn't seem to be enough and I lightly bite the same area.

She moans again and I swear this is what angels must sound like. In fact, I'm convinced. I pull back and just take in her beauty. Her is splayed across the pillow and she looks more beautiful than before. She is at peace and so am I. I go back to kissing her chest because she has yet to call out another muscle.

"Tensor Fasciae Latae"

I lift my head from her chest and look deep into her hazel eyes. I hesitate again because this muscle is on her hip and currently covered by her shorts. She looks back into my eyes and nods. I hook my fingers into her shorts and pull then down.

I spend the rest of the night studying her muscles...intimately. I catalogue every twitch her muscles make and every sound ripped from her throat. At some point she gets me naked and studies all of my muscles too. We don't sleep that night. Her tongue is busy tracing my left Adductor when the sun finally makes it's appearance. We both call in sick and spend the day studying in bed, in the shower, on the couch, in the kitchen, and we may or may not have studied on her office desk.

My outlines for Doctor, Doctor are on my computer and currently unavailable. The next update for that will be no sooner than the 12th. I really am sorry.

In the mean time I'll try to assuage you guys with little one shots that may our may not turn into more.

Fun fact: My high school anatomy teacher used to call the Tensor Fasciae Latae (TFL) the Starbucks Muscle and because of that, it's one of the muscles I'll always remember.

Cheers,

Max