Author Note: A one-shot. An angsty one-shot. Style's a little different. I was getting frustrated with the usual one. I failed a driving test today and I was bored, so you got this. Sorry.

Disclaimer: If it was mine, I wouldn't really make this happen.


You stand in the ticket line at the movie theatre with popcorn in your hands. You smile at Jane as she scoops out a handful and empties it into her mouth. Her curls are especially unruly and it makes you want to wrap them round your fingers as you make love to her. You settle for interlinking your fingers between you, even though hers are sticky and in dire need of a manicure, and yours are freshly painted. They fit perfectly.

x

Her hair is even more of a mess and her lips are begging you to claim them when you wake up in her bed. She succumbs to your desire before you've even made it known that you want her. You slip the sheets out from between you and wrap yourself up in the softness of her skin. It doesn't last long before you're disrupted by Jane's phone. Then your phone. You reach for it and answer in sync, one after the other; Rizzoli and Isles.

x

You reach for Jane's hand, clinging to it as the carnival ride moves upwards, your stomach flips inside of you and you think you might throw up. Jane's hand squeezes yours, making the unnatural movements that little easier to handle. You smile at her and she smiles at you. When you climb off the ride, your knees weak and your body wobbling from side to side, the contents of your stomach fight their way up out of your stomach until you're sick in a garbage can. She holds your hair back while you do it, then wipes the vomit from your face when you're done.

x

The hostage situation was serious before you even arrived. Jane puts on a vest and takes up position behind a cop car. You stand well back, waiting for the hostage negotiators to broker a deal for an injured hostage to be released. When an agreement is made Jane moves closer to the door of the bank, her glock in hand. She's ready should anything go down. The door opens and you watch a man in a boiler suit and comedy mask push a young woman towards the ground. She stumbles and Jane catches her. When she stands up a shot is fired. A bullet meant for the captor lands in Jane's temple. It all happens too quickly but when you realise what has, you forget procedure and run across the road. The man had retreated, the young woman sitting on the floor sobbing. You fall to the ground when you see Jane's eyes open. The life has already slipped away.

x

You're in bed together. Jane's fingers trace shapes across your skin and you don't think you can handle it anymore. Your whole body already reacting to the gentle movements. You tell her that you don't think there's much time left before you both need to go in to the office, but Jane doesn't think it matters. You lie there, your body is a hostage to your emotions, and you can't move when she starts talking about the years you have left together. About marriage. About the children you so desperately desire. About the places you want to see together, the things you want to do.

x

The dead body on the autopsy table was not Jane. She was not there anymore, even if her body was. They have already refused you clearance to conduct the autopsy yourself but you fought your way into the room. You don't want to jeopardise the case for the officer who pulled the trigger despite orders to stand down, but you don't want anybody else to be the one to cut her open like someone might cut open a tomato. You lift a scalpel in your right hand, hold it over her naked chest and place it where you must begin to cut. Your hand is shaking. You try to steady it but the grip on the scalpel loosens and you drop it carelessly on the floor. The thought of being the one to cut her open was just as difficult, so you just stand there, your body draped over hers, until they force you out of the room.

x

The road trip towards the beach on a summer's day made it the perfect opportunity to spend together. You're both always so busy that you never find time to be alone for more than an hour or two at a time. Neither of you count the hours you spend sleeping in each other's beds. The mixed tape Jane made for you before you admitted that you were in love with her played throughout the car and you sang together in much the same way as you did then. The perfect smile on Jane's lips was one you committed to memory long ago and one you would never forget for as long as you lived.

x

The car ride towards the coast was anything but the same as the last time you visited. You were alone with your thoughts, the radio sat silent and every time you considered switching it on you feared your song might play. You can't do it. Instead you focus all of your attention on the journey. You don't know why you're even going to the ocean. Jane won't be there anymore than she was in Boston. You feel you need to be closer to her. Anything was worth a try.

x

You wrap your arm around Jane's and rest your head against her shoulder. The sun had set long ago leaving you walking under the light of the moon. Every step you take together is another moment you will never forget. The waves splash at your feet, soaking your ankles as you paddle through the gentle waves. Jane squeals when the water sneaks up to the bottoms of her pants, rolled up to her knees, and you squeal along beside her even though you're still dry. When you walk back up towards the car you fall over, pulling Jane on top of you, and though it's the worst place you've ever attempted to make love, you do it anyway.

x

The moon shone brightly overhead, illuminating the beach in much the same way as it did the night you made love to Jane. You walk up to the edge of the shoreline and allow the waves to splash against your toes. The memories it brings back hit you harder than the water and you fall to your knees. The waves break against you, the salty water spraying up at your face. You don't care that you're soaked to the bone. It's nothing compared to the tears that fall down your cheeks in continuous lines.

x

You rent a boat from an old friend of your mothers and sail out into the Boston harbour. The plan was to bask in the sunlight and enjoy the beautiful weekend. You spend the whole time in bed, curled up with Jane, making the most of your time together. You'd just finished working on a big case and you knew the next wouldn't be far off. So you took the time out to be together. To make love on the deck as the sun set over the harbour.

x

The bed is empty when you wake up. Again. The funeral the day before had left you drained of energy and now you were faced with a bed that would never feel full again. You tried to muster up enough energy to put on your robe and go downstairs to make a cup of coffee. You don't even get as far as pulling the sheets back. Your whole life you spent waiting for the love of your life. It took longer than you expected given that you didn't realise she was right in front of your eyes the whole time. Now that she was gone you didn't think you could love again. You could try, but nobody would ever be Jane Rizzoli and you would only spend the rest of your life hoping they were. Whether you got out of bed now or six months down the line, nothing would change. It would still be empty and Jane would still be gone.


Author Note: Thank you for reading. I appreciate you all, as always.