A/N: This came to me in a dream and I had to write it down.
Disclaimer: I don't own the SVU or Rizzoli & Isles characters.
Jane grumbles distastefully at her television, clenching her jaw at yet another body found naked in a shallow grave. This has been the third body found this week with the same M.O- eyes scratched out, tape veiling their mouths with a thick red 'x', heavily adorned cuts and bruises along the victim's repugnant broken bone.
"Fuck!" she spits out, tossing back another swig of her beer as she pulls the roots of her unruly curls. Just when she thinks she has a strong lead- a forensic psychologist in Boston-that she could pacify the nerves of all brunettes- his apparent preference- in the city, another fucking body turns up when Doctor Connors is in custody.
Maura is beside her, body stiff and annoyed, not necessarily from the deaths- though it fears her that a man was this prolific and clandestine. But what perturbs her most is that Jane fits the profile: tall, dark hair, independent and accomplished in her work. Jane is also relentless and stubborn, if you will, and it keeps Maura up at night to think if the combative brunette keeps going down the road she's going, she might end up like the twelve women- in Boston-in a shallow grave. She shivers at the thought of it. When she begs Jane to lessen her work hours, what Jane quickly- if not characteristically in her nature- denies, Maura grows desperate to keep her friend safe. Her desperation for security grows so strong that she does something she knows will upset her friend. When you hate me, at least you'll be alive.
"Jane I…" Maura bites her lip, but takes a deep breath and continues. "You're going to hate me for this but, I made a couple of calls, and…well, you know how there are killings with the same M.O in New York?"
"Don't I know it," Jane snorts, but her eyes lay warily on the blonde. She's been bathing in this case for weeks, and yes she knows everything about the unsub's M.O- including where he seems to fly off to:New York. But still…Maura says she's going to hate her and she wants to know why. "Why I am going to hate you?"
Again Maura chews on the side of her bottom lip, hazel eyes cascading to her hands. Jane growls, a toned that isn't menacing but not exactly friendly either, which makes the blonde's eyes align with concerned and impatient browns.
"I sort of…my family are good friends with Jack McCoy- the District Attorney of New York- and…I just want you safe," she says in a breath, adamant about making her seemingly disloyal actions justifiable.
"Maura," now Jane's growl is dark, menacing, catching the awkwardness and fear within the blonde beside her.
"I convinced McCoy to draft you to New York-" Jane already has her teeth gritted, and Maura's next statement is in a squeaked plea "- You need all the assistance you could gain for this serial killer and I figured two units are better than one and-"
"Maura why the fuck would you do that?" she snaps, growling as she jumps from her couch. "How the hell do you think it's remotely okay to completely defy my request, Maura? In what part is it difficult to grasp in that big ol' brain of yours, that I don't want any help! Especially from those fucking Yankees!"
"How about letting your pride get the best of you," Maura growls, standing up, her voice uncharacteristically deep and sharp for her soft tone. "You can't see that you're constantly putting yourself in danger-"
"Last time I checked I'm a cop," Jane growls. "I've been doing it for years, Maur. Why does it bother you now?"
"Because he can win, Jane!" Maura screams. "He can hurt you and I can't-"
"Are you…are you…doubting my ability as a detective?" Jane growls through clenched teeth, appalled at her own words as if it was sulfuric acid. Yes, Maura and she have had disagreements about a case, and yes, Maura has commented and teased her blue-collar personality, but never has she ever doubted her ability to do her job.
And needless to say, it fucking hurt!
"I am not doubting anything Jane-"
"It sure fucking sounds like it!" She screams rage in her veins; frustration from the tears circling her eyes.
"It's…it's…it's-"
"It's what, Maura? Spit it out!"
"You're so fucking hardheaded!" she growls out in a screech, tears falling down her cheek. "You're so warped up in this case that you don't even realize how I feel. You have no idea how terrifying it is for me when you leave my office, and off to find a new perp. I can't help it, Jane- I just can't help but think of you like one of those women-"
Jane's anger dims when she lets out a sigh and interrupts the blonde. Maura didn't mean to be condescending when she blatantly ignored Jane's request. That was the stem of Jane's anger: Maura's betrayal and disloyalty. But her like this, right here in tears, shows she's done this for Jane's benefit and not her own.
It makes her let out a sigh at her foolish behavior. "I'm not going anywhere, Maur," she offers with a small smile as she leans in for hug, but Maura eases away.
"I bet that was what Lauren Cinner, the defense attorney, said. I'm sure Francine Wallace, the pathologist, said that as well. How about Wendy Felipe, the investor, Jane? These women are, were, strong-minded, independent individuals, and your perp used their tenacity and pride to his advantage. Jane you're my…" Maura is truly broken down about this case and Jane could now see it in her hazel eyes and quivering lips.
Maura Isles was terrified.
"Jane you're my best friend- hell Jane you're my only friend and I refuse to have you on my slab as I finish your autopsy!" Her body is shaky, but Jane knows it's from defiance and blatant fear of what's to come.
It affected her as well. There were times when she burst out in cold sweat from the vividly horrific nightmare of her being the next victim- where she is fully aware of the crime that's to come. But Jane didn't let it get the best of her. She's sure the twelve women didn't ask to be victims, and she isn't backing down because Maura asked her to. She cares about Maura deeply, sometimes she thinks that surpasses appropriate platonic intimacy- but she puts her job over everyone, even her own life.
But now Maura has a point. She can't find the perp in a shallow grave.
"The only reason," she says sternly, narrowing her dark eyes, "and I repeat, the only reason why I am agreeing to this, because he seems to be in New York and his body count is higher and his attacks are more brutal. I am no pussy, Maur-"
"I know," Maura smiles through remaining tears as she leaps in for a hug, clutching the detective's neck, body connecting with the taller woman's. "Thank you…"
Jane returns her hug and accepts the doctor's warmth, but doesn't look too far into it. Maura gets like this, all emotional when a case overwhelms her. And for someone who always seem at poise with herself and the horrific things she sees through her work, Doctor Isles is very sensitive and naïve to the capabilities to her reactions to human contact.
But sadly, Maura Isles is straight.
The only possible upside to this case is that Jane is too involved in her work to think about Maura, and the dismembered joints of his innocent victims set a twisting to her stomach that deadens her libido.
"Sure," Jane mumbles, inconspicuously rubbing the tear that escapes her eye before she leans away and lets out a dreary sigh. "Looks like I should…call them I guess-"
"That's already taken care of," Maura interrupts.
Jane furrows her brow. "What?"
"Well," Maura's grin turns sheepish. "I figured since your pride is already bruised, that I could save your delusional humiliation by having McCoy assign you as if it was a specific assignment, rather than having it appear as if you are requesting help."
Jane makes a small concurred nod, but her eyes still remain cautious on the doctor's. This woman is always full of surprises.
"So…when am I leaving?" Jane grumbles, ruffling the roots of her hair as she inadvertently scopes her room.
"Tonight," Maura clenches her eyes shut when she hears the detective's audible growl.
"What?" Jane spits out, the vein at her temple irritably pulsing.
"There were two killings in two days yesterday, and that timeframe is a lot shorter than Boston's murders. And since you're so motivated up here, I figured you'd be the same in Manhattan."
"Okay," Jane groans, rolling her eyes. "Looks like I need to pack. Yay," goes her sardonic reply.
"Well…that's arranged for you as well," Maura cheekily smiles, tugging on her bottom lip while she bats her long lashes. She continues on, not giving Jane a chance to rip her head off. "You slept for a whole hour, Jane. And I wanted to do something productive like…pack your belongings," she nervously chuckles. "It's probably been the longest you've slept since this whole calamity began, am I wrong?"
Jane twitches a brow but reluctantly shakes her head. She dreamt, slept, and breathed this case. And the vivid nightmares she has, some recaps of the victims, mostly of herself, killed in various ways, mainly swim in her insomniac conscious.
"Fine, since you did all of that for me. I think you forgot to book a hotel for me as well; hmm?" she chuckles sardonically, shaking her head to pass off the frivolous comment.
She only stills when Maura keeps that sheepish smile on her face. "We'll be staying at the Ritz-"
"The- the what?" Jane's eyes widen. "Maur, I can't afford-"
"All expenses paid by an apologetic friend who probed into your professional life and…personal boundaries. I'll pretend that I didn't see what I thought I saw at the bottom of your sock drawer." Her voice fades at that, as her cheeks glows a tinted red.
Jane blushes as well but hides her embarrassment with a cocky smirk. "I tell Ma not to touch my shit. Now you know why."
Maura chuckles softly, running her finger's through her hair.
Jane takes a glance at her watch, hinting that it's six-thirty. "I guess we should get ready soon, huh?"
"Yeah we should.
Olivia's outwardly growls as she violently plops the manila folder on her desk, gripping the roots of her short cropped hair. This sick prick has been causing havoc for three months, in both New York and possibly Boston- though she doubts that. There are sick fucks in this world, the sickest in New Yorkin her opinion, but she feels it's unlikely for one man to kill twenty women, in two different states, within three months.
Apparently Cragen didn't think so.
If it is indeed the same killer, that means he's devolved to rape since the Boston crimes are first. And considering it a high-profiled case, McCoy tells Cragen, who then tells his team, that a Boston homicide detective will be coming over to assist the case.
Olivia grumbles at that. She looked up the upcoming detective, sneakily swiping the name from the Captain's desk, and found that the detective is a female: Jane Rizzoli. Rizzoli? The fuck is a Rizzoli? It sounds Italian, meaning this one is probably a spit-fire, a pest, a dominant who seeks control in every situation she's handed to. That'll stop here, Olivia coldly thinks.
This is her habitat. She's the head honcho of her unit, the one female that brings a soft aura to the dark precinct. But here is this other woman, a woman she still didn't Google yet, and she's going to try to conquer what took her years to grasp. That definitely was not going to happen.
Curiosity gets to the detective and she googles the name. Various articles pop out, Siblings Detective Jane Rizzoli and Police officer Frank Rizzoli, Jr. taken hostage by Hoyt's victim, and other articles that are typical for a hardworking detective. But one that catches her eye: Boston Hero, Detective Jane Rizzoli. Again the curiosity aches at her and when she opens the article, she finds a dark-haired woman held hostage- who she identifies as Rizzoli considering the other articles captured the same female- by a man and could see a splatter of blood from behind them. She…she shot herself? As she continues to read the article, it turns out Rizzoli risked her life by shooting herself in the abdomen, and killed a dirty cop.
Olivia has to admit she's impressed with the mystery woman- it takes courage and dedication to the job for someone to risk killing them to save hostages- but she isn't going to let this one off that easily. One thing she hates more than someone disrupting her unit are detectives who have big heads from their success. If Rizzoli is going to be any help to this case she needs to know that the detective has the heart and dying dedication to help the victim, and not their conviction rate.
"They're here," Munch mumbles to her as he passes by and sits by his desk, tilting his head toward the elevator.
The woman is taller than she expected and very thin, but she compensates with her dark, intensive brown eyes and brisk stride. She seems tough, confident, distant, competent; just another copy of Olivia.
But there's only one way to figure if she could truly stay on the same dark level as she.
Grill the hell out of her.
A/N: Stay? Go? Sex? Full-story? I'll only know with reviews.