Fumbling with the door, Jane stumbled in to the lobby of the Boston Precinct. She cursed at her heavily bandaged hands, before jumping slightly as a voice from further inside the building called out, "Detective Rizzoli?"
"Hey Gary," Jane smiled at the security guard.
"Sorry, Detective. Didn't mean to startle you."
Jane winced as she watched Gary's eyes flick down to her damaged hands repeatedly. "Yeah, no, it's fine. Just stopping by to grab some paper work."
"You're, uh, doing alright, Detective?"
Jane offered him a pained smile back, attempting to fake it as she stepped through the elevator doors. "Never better. Should be back to work in no time."
Jane stared at her reflection as the elevator doors came to a close. She looked weathered, to say the least. It had been three weeks since the attack, and ten days since her release from the hospital. She clumsily attempted to push her hair out of the face, but her bandaged hand worked more like a paw. Jane hadn't realized how gaunt she looked. She had been avoiding the mirrors in her apartment.
She found that her unkempt hair was even more tangled than normal from days without combing. Her cheekbones shown more prominently from the stress and anxiety. Her once slim, but muscular, frame could now only be described as rail thin. The worst of it, and perhaps most obvious, were the dark circles under her eyes.
The doors opened as Jane took a deep breath. Everything still smells the same, at least. Jane wandered over to her desk and smiled as she saw it covered with Get Well Soon cards. She chewed on her lip as she noticed a card from Korsak was nowhere to be found. Had he returned to work yet? Should she have called him?
His visit to the hospital was hard. Jane was a mess, often waking up shaky and sweating. Korsak had walked in as a nurse had to push Jane back into the hospital bed, threatening to tie her down. Jane was so ashamed in her behavior, she could barely look him in the eye. She held back her tears until he left. She was mad at Hoyt for not only what he had done to her, but how he continued to terrorize her in her sleep.
Lost in the memory, Jane failed to notice the soft clacking of high heels hitting the tiled floor. Jane heard the door to Homicide open and all but fell over herself as she attempted to reach for a gun in a holster that wasn't there. Jane heard a surprised 'Oh!" as she clumsily slid down into a crouching position under her desk. Who the hell would be working this late?
Jane grasped around on the floor for some kind of makeshift weapon when she heard, "You startled me!"
Jane crinkled her eyebrows and slowly raised her head, looking for the source of the voice.
Jane found herself staring at the most glamorous woman she had ever seen. Despite the late hour, her hair was perfectly coiffed. She wore a green silk blouse tucked into a grey pencil skirt. Her heels appeared to cost more than what Jane made in a year. The woman held her hand over her beating heart as she tried to catch her breath.
Sensing she was no longer in danger, Jane switched gears. "Ma'am are you lost? How did you get in past security?"
The woman gave Jane a small look of disdain. "It's Dr. Isles. I'm sure I should be saying the same thing about you."
"Dr. Isles..." Jane trailed off, trying to remember why the name sounded so familiar. "Oh! You're the new medical examiner?" she said incredulously.
"Yes," she said, losing her patience. "The new Chief Medical Examiner, actually. I was appointed two weeks ago from Cambridge."
Jane attempted not to roll her eyes. Cambridge? Oh yeah, the crime rate there must be out of control. What with people committing homicide over a bad spinning class. Perhaps their sushi wasn't its absolute freshest.
Maura appeared to read her face. "We had only two unresolved cases in the three years I was there. Higher than any precinct in the state."
Jane was about to grumble about numbers when she raised her hand to brush her eyebrow. She heard the woman gasp.
"Oh! You're Detective Rizzoli!" she exclaimed nervously, her eyes scanning Jane's hands and desk covered in cards. Jane noticed the woman flush as she stuck out her hand.
"Dr. Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts," she said quickly.
Jane stared at her confusingly, and then looked at her outstretched hand. "Uh, yes, I think we established that."
Maura blushed an even deeper shade of crimson, having realized not only that she had re-introduced herself, but that she had stuck out her hand for a handshake.
"I... oh." Maura stammered, attempting to recover, pulling her hand back sharply. "How - how are you? How are your hands? The palm was pierced all the way through?"
Jane looked up at her, surprised at her frankness. For a woman she had only just met, she certainly didn't seem to have any reservations asking about the most terrifying night of her life.
"The palm is a very interesting body part. It has no hair, no fingerprints, and no pigment. Though it is quite durable, it still is very sensitive."
Jane grunted. Sensitive felt like the biggest understatement of the year. Were this anyone else, she would have probably shoved them out the door. Jane had avoided all talk of her injuries thus far, much to her mother's chagrin. But for some reason, she didn't find herself angry at the doctor's comments. Her genuine curiosity left Jane both confused and intrigued. Dr. Isles appeared to have completely disregarded all norms of social practice. Instead she stared tentatively at Jane's hands, as if trying to get a better look.
"Yeah," Jane answered back, "All the way through."
"Fascinating," Maura whispered, taking a step closer.
Jane took a step back. "Not exactly the words I would use."
Jane's comment finally seemed to grab Maura out of her reverie. Maura snapped her head back, realizing that she had been staring at Jane's hands with an almost hungry expression.
"I'm so sorry, I..., " Maura cleared her throat, appearing to change tactics, "I find the human body extraordinary. The way the body responds to injuries is quite breath-taking. How often did your doctor recommend changing your bandages? They seem to be a little worn."
Jane attempted to hide her hands behind her back. The doctor had suggested once a day, but of course having two bandaged hands made the task near impossible to do on her own. She had suffered through five days of dealing with Angela or Frankie's ungrateful touch, before lying to the both of them that she had it covered. She knew it was stupid, but the pain was unbearable. Having to deal with her mother's attempts to baby her made it all the worse.
"Uh, haven't exactly been able to keep up with it. These bear paws don't make it easy," she said with a small smile, waving her hands in the air.
"You haven't been trying to do it yourself, have you?" Maura all but cried out in horror.
"I can only take so much of my mother's constant badgering."
Maura stepped closer. This time Jane didn't step back. Maura reached out tentatively, and Jane found herself bringing her hands up to meet Maura's, her body seeming to work on reflex.
"May I? I have everything you would need downstairs. I would hate to see the wounds get infected. They need to be cleaned regularly. And I promise to be very gentle."
"Oh yeah?" Jane asked, cocking an eyebrow. "You come highly recommended from your patients?"
Maura looked up as if to correct Jane before realizing that she was being teased.
"Quite. I've never had any complaints."
Jane watched Maura giggle at her own joke. She couldn't help but smile back; it might have been the first true smile in weeks. The doctor appeared quite tickled as she continued to stare at Jane.
"Honestly, I promise I'll very careful, Detective. And I won't badger. Scout's honor," she said, holding her fingers up in the air.
Jane nodded and followed the doctor towards the elevator, deciding that she needed to apologize.
"Sorry for being so surprised. About you being the Chief ME," Jane explained, off of Maura's curious look. They stepped into the elevator and made their way down to the morgue. "You're just not who I imagined when they said your name last month. You're so young!"
"33," Maura said matter of factly, "Youngest chief in Massachusetts's history."
"Wow.'
"You're one of the youngest detectives I've seen on homicide." Maura motioned to Jane to sit on the examining table. Jane gave it a wary look as she sat down, very aware that the last thing that was on the table had been dead. "Have you been on the force long?"
"Vice and Narcotics for a while. Just transferred to homicide last year..." Jane lost her voice as Maura shifted closer to her on a wheeled stool. Maura looked up, noticing Jane's silence.
"I was never good at bedside manner, but it helps to talk during the examination. Distract yourself."
Jane shrugged, holding her hand out. "It's alright. I don't mind the silence."
Maura nodded, happy with Jane's response. She gave Jane one more look before lowering her head to unwrap the bandages. Jane took the moment to observe the doctor's face while Maura was busy with her hands. Her perfectly curled eyelashes framed hazel eyes. Her lips were painted with a glossy shade of pink. If she stared closely enough, she could make out a dusting of freckles along the woman's nose. She was, objectively speaking, stunning. Every time Maura's eyes would flick up to see if Jane was alright, her stomach jumped a little.
As Maura prepared to remove the final padding that covered Jane's palms, she looked back at Jane, who was now staring at the ceiling.
"Are you alright, Detective?"
Jane swallowed, trying to keep the nausea at bay. "Call me Jane," she forced out. She hated seeing the wounds. It made her feel weak and frail. She tried to stop herself from asking the question, but she blurted out, "Will they be scars?"
Maura head snapped up, taken aback from the question. She seemed to waiver, attempting to decide the best way to answer, before simply going with the truth.
"Most likely, statistically speaking."
Jane stared dejectedly at her wounded hands, the center of her palm still grotesque to her. "I hate looking at them. It's just a constant reminder of that night. How am I ever suppose to get over this when it's always right on front of me?"
Maura gave her a somber look and rubbed her forearm, trying to think of anything comforting.
"Some scars fade."
A/N: I can't decide whether to make this a two-shot or a saga of their first year leading up to the pilot episode, lol. I know I'm not bringing anything new to the table per se, but I love thinking about how Jane and Maura would have behaved in the beginning. I know the show was never very clear on the timeline of when everything happens, but this is what I had always imagined. The flashback hooker scene makes me cringe a little, so I wanted to give it the rewrite I think the characters deserve.
Thanks for reading!