Hello there!
To any new readers out there, (and I'm sure there are due to the subject deviating from the usual suspects) and any current subscribers, this is my first Rizzoli and Isles fic. I read another story that inspired this, and I just took the idea from that and kind of made my own madness out of it. Let's see if I can make amazing happen. Oh, and I thought that whole mattress fiasco was freakin' hysterical that one episode, so I stole that from the show (which is NOT mine, by the way, I'm just borrowing characters and having some fun). This has nothing to do with what's happening on the show currently, just something totally random. I hope that made sense. I apologize for this long and unnecessary excursion from the story. I'll see how people like this before I update. I already have a few chapters written. Also, I could use a Beta...Anyways, enjoy!
"Frankie, come on! My mattress has been here for 2 freaking weeks!"
Jane Rizzoli just about had it. Frankie and her partner, Barry Frost, were supposed to have moved her new mattress into her bedroom two weeks ago. The girl that moved in next door proved quite the distraction, and thus far nothing has happened except the men drinking all the beer in the fridge. Frustrated was not even an accurate word choice at the moment. Jane was currently sleeping in the middle of her living room because the old mattress got ditched two weeks ago when the new one should have been on her bed. She could hear everything, including the people downstairs having loud sex.
"Jane, I promised Ma I'd take her out to dinner. She'll be on my ass if I bail."
"Yeah, but she has a bed to sleep on!" The lanky detective huffed at her brother.
"I'll move it tomorrow, I promise."
Jane narrowed her eyes at him condescendingly. He better move her goddamned mattress before she took him out.
"I swear!"
"You better." She growled at him. He backed away slowly until he was out of her apartment all together.
"I can't freaking do this again!" She kicked the springy inhabitant of her living room floor. Jane sulked over to the fridge, cursed when she remembered there was no beer, and settled for some cranberry juice spiked with the good stuff. She snatched a bag of barbecue chips off the counter and slumped onto the sofa and flicked the TV on, easily finding the Red Sox game.
Jane alternated between taking gulps of her drink and shoving chips into her mouth. Oh, she would make sure her mattress got moved, all right. She had her ways.
"What the hell was that, Ellsbury?" she screamed at the TV as the man in question swung at a pitch in the dirt. She shoved more chips in her mouth.
The game ended in about 20 minutes. The Sox lost 7-4 against the Yankees. She mentally beat the crap out of Joe Girardi with her nightstick, and it helped ease her problems a little bit.
Jane flipped through the channels, finding nothing else of interest on. She shut off the TV and stared blankly at it. She did not want to sleep in here again.
Suddenly, a light bulb lit above her head. She picked up her phone and dialed a number she had memorized.
"Dr. Isles." A female voice said.
"Hey Maura. Can I please crash at your place tonight? Frankie can't move my damn mattress until tomorrow, and I can't sleep out there another night! It's too freaking noisy." Jane whined to her friend.
"Jane, you know you're welcome here whenever you want."
"I'll see you in a half hour."
-8-8-8-8-8-
Maura left her spot on the couch when she heard incessant knocking at her door. She placed her tea and medical journal on the end table and shuffled over to let Jane in.
"It's about time!" Jane snapped, pushing her way through to the spare bedroom, where she deposited her overnight bag, which would just end up with the rest of her clothes that she left at Maura's.
"Jane, are you alright?" Maura asked delicately.
"No, I'm not! I'll be fine once my goddamn mattress is on my bed."
"Don't you think you're overreacting? It's just a mattress. Your lack of sleep is affecting you. It's been scientifically proven that the absence of REM sleep may cause the harmful after effects of-"
"Oh my God. Babbling excessively about "REM" sleep is not helping!"
Maura sighed. She was not going to be able to partake in a normal conversation with her unless she was rested.
"Just go to bed, Jane."
Jane looked at her dejectedly. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. Once I'm rested, I'll be better."
Maura smiled. "It's fine. Good night."
She was just about to leave the room when the sound of Jane's phone ringing cut through the air.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Jane groaned. She threw her hands up towards the sky. "Why?"
Maura's phone was ringing now too.
"Rizzoli."
"Dr. Isles."
-8-8-8-8-8-
They stood over the body in silence. Nobody spoke a single word. They just stared; perhaps hoping the young girl on the ground would open her eyes and walk away like nothing ever happened. Maura looked at Jane with sad eyes before she finally bent down to assess the damage of the body.
"So, uh…what have we got?" Jane broke the silence, her voice cracking.
Frost spoke. "Jogger called it in. She's over there." He pointed to a redhead in a black sports bra and neon orange shorts. "Says she stopped to take a sip of water by the side of this building and saw the girl in the alley. Called 911 when she saw the blood."
Jane was going to kill whatever asshole did this. It was a poor, innocent girl!
"She looks to be no older than sixteen." Maura sighed, cutting into Jane's thoughts.
Jane looked back down, and studied the body more intensely than before. The girl had curly black hair, and the most beautiful blue eyes. She was wearing a ratty old pink t-shirt and ripped up jeans. Her shoes looked like they could fall apart with a kick.
Multiple stab wounds dotted the back of the shirt, blood seeping to the sticky pool beneath her. Jane dawned a latex glove and slid the girl's eyelids down, unable to stare at her like that any longer. Maura's look was of sympathy and appreciation.
"I'll take a quick look around for the weapon; maybe the perp ditched it. What am I looking for, Maura?" She said.
"A sharp object with a serrated edge long enough to have pierced the ribcage."
"You mean a knife?"
"I do not feel comfortable with accurately confirming the cause of death at this point in time." Maura said.
"Come on! She was stabbed. Don't you have a hunch?"
Maura sighed exasperatedly. "Jane, you know I don't guess!"
"Then, would you say that a knife accurately fits the description of what may have caused these wounds?"
The doctor bit her lip. "It's a definite possibility."
"Good enough." Jane took off down the alley, searching for a knife. If she didn't see it, she was just going to have to wait for the CSI team to process the alley.
What kind of sicko goes around and kills girls? She was so innocent. The threadbare clothing suggested that maybe she was poor, or maybe even homeless. It doesn't even matter. Someone killed her, and I'm going to damn well find whoever did this and make sure they rot in hell!
WHAM!
Something fell, producing a loud, metallic noise. Jane stumbled backward, her hand flying to the gun on her hip.
Someone else is in this alley.
BTW: I'm a Yankees fan. I just had to add that part in there :D Also, review and favorite and all that good stuff.