Bella Notte

He sits alone at the bar sipping a diet soda as he waits for his order of sloppy joes and onion rings. He has been hearing all week about how great Angela Rizzoli's recipe is and can't wait to try a sample for himself.

He notices Det. Frankie Rizzoli (or 'other Rizzoli' as some in the drug unit refer to him) and Crime Scene Analyst Nina Holiday sitting a few stools down. They are smiling as they talk quietly.

Frankie's mother furtively watches them, her eyes sparkle as she carefully wipes already pristine wood. She turns toward Det. Sgt. Vince Korsak, who is at the other end of the bar working with a calculator and receipts. She tries to conduct a silent conversation complete with head nudges and questioning glances toward Frankie and Nina. Vince looks over his glasses toward the pair and shrugs.

An exasperated sigh escapes Angela's lips just as the cook dings an annoying bell and yells that an order is ready. His long awaited meal is placed in front of him along with a kind smile from Angela. "Enjoy, Dr. Drake," she whispers.

Before he can implore her to please call him Kent, another annoying bell above the entrance rings, and all eyes turn to see Det. Jane Rizzoli holding the door open for Dr. Maura Isles. Maura is in the middle of what he is sure to be a fascinating description of coronary damage and intestinal deterioration due to detrimental dietary decisions.

Jane has a sparkle in her eye as she grins and nods, and Kent suddenly sees a maternal resemblance. Jane's hand falls to the base of Maura's spine as the blonde passes through the door, and she gently guides the good doctor towards a booth in the back.

"Hello, mother," Angela mocks as they walk by her. "It's so good to see you. How are you? I'm fine, daughter dearest. How are you?"

"Hi, Ma," Jane chuckles as she removes her jacket and drops it into the booth seat. "Sorry to ignore you. But I finally convinced Maura to try your sloppy joes, promised that one little burger wouldn't give her a coronary or indigestion. So I couldn't interrupt her mid lecture."

Maura deposits her purse onto the opposite side of their booth and gives Jane a teasing smirk before they walk back toward the bar.

"Oh, really?" Angela beams. "How many sloppy joes do you want?"

"Just one 'slider' I believe it's called for me, please," Maura requests. "And a kale side salad."

"Oh, come on," Jane protests. "Get some onions rings. You can't eat just a salad with sloppy joes. It's un-American."

"But I don't want onion rings."

"That's what you always say. But then you always end up eating half of mine."

"Fine. One sloppy joe slider, one small order of onion rings, and a kale salad, please."

"And I'll have two full grown-up sized sloppy joes and a large order of onion rings."

Maura clears her throat as her eyes bulge out, giving Jane a stern look.

"You need a cough drop, Maura?"

"No. Do I need to remind you about your bullet wound and the substantial damage you sustained to your..."

"Oh, for the love of Pete! Can we not talk about my colon in front of people?"

Maura merely smiles and tilts her head. "Sorry," she whispers, "Order what you want."

Jane groans. "Fine. One regular sized sloppy joe, one regular sized order of onion rings, and one kale salad. Happy now, Maura?"

"Well, I'm not sad."

The lower tone of Maura's voice and the sultry look she gives Jane makes the three men who witness it blush and causes one woman to pause. The other woman obliviously scribbles down their order and carries it to the kitchen.

Kent observes two manicured fingers discreetly reach out and stroke up a homicide badge, then scissor tickle a flat abdomen.

"Ma! Make that order 'to go'!"

Angela gives Jane the stink eye, then turns back toward the kitchen, relaying the message to the cook.

"Should we get wine, Maura?"

Kent nearly chokes on an onion ring as he watches the distinguished chief medical examiner for the commonwealth bite her lip and nod.

"What kind of wine goes with sloppy joes?" Jane whispers.

"Beef? Can't go wrong with a Pinot Noir."

The brunette begins to bounce on the balls of her feet. "Ma, add a bottle of Pinot Noir to that order."

"Geez," Angela grumbles as she searches the mini fridge under the bar. "Don't you girls talk before you get here about what you want to eat?"

"Sometimes," Jane mumbles as she watches Maura stroll back to their booth, sit down, and cross her legs.

Angela places a bottle on the bar and smiles at her daughter. Jane approves the year and her mother places the wine in a plain paper bag.

"Oh, Janie. Don't forget to vote for cutest couple this week."

"Cutest what?"

"Couple," Angela huffs, pointing to a fishbowl half-filled with bits of folded paper. "The couple with the most votes wins a free romantic spaghetti dinner, complete with drinks, salad, garlic bread, and dessert."

"What? No strolling accordion player singing Bella Notte?"

"We're trying to make money, Jane. Not spend it all on musicians. The contest is a way to get butts in the seats."

"And they say romance is dead."

"Just vote for a couple, Janie." Angela tilts her head toward Frankie and Nina. Jane pretends not to notice.

"Can I vote for you and Ronald? So I can finally meet my new daddy?"

"Employees aren't eligible. Just vote for your favorite couple." Angela again makes wild visual gestures toward Jane's brother. So much so that Kent begins to wonder if Angela is indeed going to fix this promotion in her son's favor.

"What happens if everyone votes for themselves and every couple has the same number of votes?"

Angela hums as she contemplates this conundrum. Jane turns her head back toward Maura, who is speaking quietly into her phone as she dangles a high heeled shoe from her rotating foot.

"A-ha," Angela beams. "If there's a tie then I'll put all the votes back in the bowl and just pull one out at random."

"Seems like a waste of a lot of paper," Jane mumbles, baiting and distracting her mother from reading her vote.

Kent chuckles as Angela paces behind the bar, pointing to the paper recycling bin, and yelling about difficult and defiant daughters. His Italian is a little rusty but he thinks he hears the matriarch curse her eldest with a dozen children just like herself and an overly horny spouse who snores.

He nearly spits out his drink when he reads Jane's vote for Anita C. Hurtitz and Oliver Klozov.

"How do you notify the winners, Ma?" Jane antagonizes further as she folds her vote.

"By phone or text. Put their number on there, too."

Jane unfolds her vote and jots down 867-5309, as her mother rants about the rules being clearly posted on the side of the *Italian expletive* fishbowl. Jane tosses the paper into the bowl and walks back to Maura.

Kent's jaw drops open as he spies his boss slipping off her shoe and sliding her toes up Jane's pantleg. Looking around, he notices no one else paying the least bit of attention to the seduction taking place in booth number six.

Kent's eyes nearly bug out of his head when he spots Maura's foot traveling out of the pantleg and onto Jane's lap and then Jane caressing the blonde's calf with both hands. Just as he is about to say something, anything, but he can't decide what, the cook announces that their order is ready.

Maura slips her foot back into her shoe as Jane puts on her jacket again. Jane extends her palm toward Maura and Kent hears her say "no, MY wallet" when Maura tries to give Jane her credit card. Maura drops the card back into her purse and finally gives Jane what she wants.

Jane swaggers toward the bar and settles their bill, whispering to her brother not to wait up, while Maura quietly says goodnight to Nina. Maura cradles their wine in her arm like a baby as Jane grabs their bag of food, and they both say goodbye to everyone. Once again Jane opens the door for Maura, watches her hips as she sashays through it, then follows.

Kent blinks a few times, then leans over to tap Frankie on the shoulder. "How long have they...?" he starts before Frankie interrupts him.

"Ma and Janie? They always act like that. For as long as I can remember anyway. Jane is almost two years older than me."

"No, I mean the detective and Dr. Isles."

"What? Oh, you think they... Jane and Maura? No. No, they're just friends. Don't pay any attention to those rumors, it's all talk. But do not make a move on Maura. Jane gets really pissed."

"Language, Frankie."

"Really, Ma? I'm almost 40."

"And how old am I with only one grandchild?"

Frankie shakes his head in disbelief, as he watches his mother settle in to chat with Nina.

"Anyway, our little brother Tommy tried to kiss Maura once years back and Jane went ballistic. He was lucky he was in police custody when she found out or she would have kicked his ass."

"You don't say."

"I do say. And I did kiss her about a year ago and Jane just about tore me a new one when she found out. She was yelling about boundaries and consent, even the busted lip I had at the time. She started naming off germs and all kinds of scary viruses and diseases. But mostly she yelled about how I can't just grab women and kiss them without their permission. Threatened to rip my balls off and feed them to Korsak's dogs if I tried it again. I hid from her for like three days."

"Really?"

"She's mean when she's mad. And she is very protective over Maura. She's even killed for her. Twice."

"Excuse me? She has killed for her?"

"Well, they were justified. Serial killers. One was gonna rape Maura and make Jane watch before he planned to kill both of them. And the other had a knife to Maura's neck and was gonna murder suicide her and himself down an elevator shaft."

"I had no idea they had been through so much together."

"Yeah, now they're closer than regular best friends. Lots of nightmares between the both of them. So they have a lot of sleepovers."

"Is that so? Jane doesn't seem like the nightmare type."

"Well, you've seen her hands. The scars. The guy who was gonna rape Maura did that to her. Stalked her, sent killer apprentices after her, terrorized Jane for years."

"So this is why Dr. Isles knows about PTSD? She has experienced it. Seen it from both sides."

"I guess. But Maura pretty much knows everything about everything anyway."

"Fascinating."

"And that bullet wound of Jane's she mentioned, that happened right in front of Maura. You can probably google that. They say Maura was trying to hold Jane's blood and guts inside with her bare hands. Ripped off parts of her dress and was demanding Frost and Korsak's shirts to compress the entrance and exit wounds."

"Amazing. You said 'they say' ... you weren't there?"

"No, I was getting loaded into an ambulance myself. Maura had just saved my life. I got shot, too. I had a vest on but if the bullets hit you in the right spot, they can still fuck you up."

"Incredible. I had no idea."

"Yeah, so when Jane jokes around and teases Ma...we're all just glad she's alive and happy again. And we get why she's so territorial around Maura."

"You do?"

"Yeah. She doesn't want to lose her. You should have seen them when Jane shot Maura's dad. Jane was like a lost puppy."

"Jane shot Dr. Arthur Isles? The gentleman who was questioned a few weeks ago?"

"Not him, she shot Maura's birth father. Paddy Doyle."

"Who is Paddy Doyle?"

"Yeah. I keep forgetting you aren't from around here. He's like an OG mob boss from back in the day. Still has a lot of power even from prison. The shooting was all over social media. Jane and Maura had a wicked argument that this guy Pike recorded and put on YouTube. It got like a thousand hits before Cavanaugh made him take it down."

"And they made up after that?"

"Yeah, they were in a car crash, got shot at, and almost drowned. Maura could have lost her leg if Jane hadn't cut it in the right places. Something about bad blood building up. I don't know. I'm not a doctor."

"Unbelievable."

"I know. But it's all true."

"Thank you for sharing this with me, Detective Rizzoli."

"No problem. Just don't mention any of it in front of Jane and Maura. They don't really like to talk about that stuff."

"Of course. Well, I must be on my way. Angela, the sloppy joes certainly lived up to their hype."

"They have hype?" Angela beams as he hands over cash for his meal.

"Indeed they do. Keep the change."

"Thank you, Dr. Drake. Don't forget to vote for cutest couple before you take off."

"Certainly."

Kent picks up the stubby pencil beside the fishbowl, writes 'Jane and Maura' in neat and even letters on the paper provided, and adds his boss's cell phone number.

"Please, call me Kent," he says as he folds his vote and drops it into the bowl.

"Alright, Kent. You have a good night."

"Good night."