Disclaimer: I do not own Rizzoli & Isles. They belong to Tess Gerritsen and Janet Tamaro.
A/N: This is my first story, so I hope you all enjoy it!
It only takes 5.6lbs of pressure to pull the trigger of her glock 22, but with a single motion of her finger Jane Rizzoli felt as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She couldn't move fast enough to get to her best friend, whose father Jane had just put bullet into. Maura had to understand, in the eyes of a cop, this wasn't her father, this was Paddy Doyle, the Paddy Doyle. He wasn't the guy who would take his daughter to petting zoos or science fairs, he was the guy that put an ice pick into the heart of his enemies, but to Maura he was still her father.
"Don't touch him, no I mean it, don't you dare touch him." With just a few words and a cold stare Jane knew in her heart that things with Maura would never be the same.
Over the next few weeks things were even more strained between her and Maura, Jane avoided going to the morgue more and more and every time she did it ended in a fight. Instead she ended up spending more nights at the robber. The only solace the detective could find these days was at the bottom of a glass or six. As she looked down at her most recent empty glass she couldn't help but remember the nights her and Maura had spent here, the first time she got Maura to drink a beer.
Jane brought over two champagne glasses filled with her favorite beer, but Maura insisted to drink it Jane's way. Jane called over the waitress and had two bottles brought over. The look of surprise on Maura's face as she brought the bottle to her lips and it tasted good was one Jane would never forget.
Now Jane sat alone at the robber, remembering the last words Maura said to her the day she shot her father.
"Well at least I don't play Judge and Jury and kill people"
What if Maura was right?