Hi there, R&I fans, and welcome to my new story. Some of you may have read my previous story, ignoratio elenchi, while others may be entirely unfamiliar with my writing. Either way, welcome, and I'm happy you decided to check out this fic. Things you need to know: it's set after the first couple of seasons (before certain character deaths), focuses a lot on the aftermath of what happened with Hoyt, and is heavy on the Rizzles feels (friendship-wise, not really romantic). That's probably all you need to know for now, but feel free to review/PM me with any questions. Here you go.
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"Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful."
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
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"Well?"
The word was accompanied by an action – an index finger tapping on a paper coffee cup; something innocuous enough but with a clear meaning behind it. The hand clasped around the cup, but that action too held meaning, signalling barely hidden impatience. The woman holding the coffee had been called into work early, the call having actually roused her from her bed, where she had been attempting to sleep off last night's activities – and her appearance was suffering as a result.
She glanced down at the woman she was talking to, who was crouching over a dead body. Another murder, another crime scene. Except this wasn't just another – this could be something so much worse.
"And by the way," the woman holding the coffee said, "how is it that you stayed out later than I did last night but you look like you're ready to step onto a runway?"
The woman on the ground looked up, her puzzled expression softening into a smile. "I've told you before, Jane, your beauty regime isn't sufficient to negate the effects of -"
"Yes, thank you, Maura," Jane cut in, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. Maura had told her that before, countless times, and Jane was no more likely to listen to her this time than she had any other. It's not like she had anyone who would actually pay attention to her appearance anyway; unlike Maura, who seemed to be fending off new suitors on a weekly basis. Not that Jane was jealous, of course. She was just concerned, given how well Maura's love life had gone in the past.
They fell silent while Maura continued examining the body. Jane knew better than to interrupt her, so she turned her attention to the other people in her team. Korsak and Frost were interviewing some of the neighbours, but they didn't seem hopeful. Somehow this woman had been murdered in the middle of a suburban street and nobody had seen a thing. She turned her gaze to Frankie, who was combing the area with some of the uniforms, searching for any material evidence. But if Jane was right about this, there wouldn't be any evidence to find.
"The MO is consistent with the other two," Maura said finally. She gestured for Jane to kneel down beside her for a better look, and once the detective had complied she went on, "Single laceration to the throat. Same depth as the first two victims. And see here?" She used one gloved finger to gently nudge open the victim's blouse, revealing the letter M carved into her chest.
"It's the same," Jane said. She pressed a fist against her mouth, disgusted. Involuntarily her eyes fell onto the victim's hands. Because of the way the woman was lying Jane couldn't see the entirety of her hands, but she could see enough. Through each palm would be a single wound, just about the right size for a scalpel. The same as on Jane's hands. "The same guy killed all three of them."
"The manner of death is the same," Maura said cautiously, looking almost visibly hurt by the way Jane was making her assertions. "That's all I'm willing to say. I won't know everything until -"
"- you get back to the lab and do a full autopsy," Jane finished for her, well aware of the doctor's system. "But – and please don't dissect me just for suggesting it – do you think it's possible that this woman was killed by the same person who killed the first two victims?"
Maura stood up and Jane followed her lead, and for a moment the doctor surveyed her carefully. There was something off about her, Jane realized, although she couldn't pinpoint what it was. Maybe the late night had affected her more than she let on. "It's possible," she conceded, but before Jane could so much as offer her a self-satisfied smile, she continued, "but it's also possible that this is a copycat killer, or an isolated incident, or -"
"Jane?"
She turned at the sound of her name and was relieved to see Frost approaching her. "Look, something relevant," she said, cutting off Maura. She turned to the other detective, who was flipping his notebook closed as he reached her. "Got anything, Frost?"
He shook his head, turning to glance up the street, where Korsak was talking to a couple of elderly women who, judging by their expressions and gestures, were probably trying to give him fashion advice. "Nobody saw a thing," he reported, turning back to Jane. "Which is a little hard to believe. This is a busy street, even at night. Why didn't anyone see anything?" He sighed, and then addressed Maura. "You got a time of death?"
The doctor's eyes widened and she started to speak, but Jane spoke first. "We're not looking for an exact-to-the-second figure, Maura," she said. "Just give us something to work with."
Relaxing slightly now that she knew they weren't actually asking her to guess, Maura looked down at the body, thought for a minute, and then said, "I'd say the murder occurred between six to eight hours ago."
Jane made a quick calculation. "So between twelve thirty and two thirty," she said, and Maura shrugged to indicate that she couldn't be any more specific. "All right." Jane looked up and down the street again. It seemed like everyone was packing up. Frankie waved at her and then spread his hands wide, silently telling her that he hadn't found anything useful, and Korsak finally disengaged himself from the elderly ladies and started coming over to Jane, Maura, and Frost.
"I think we've done everything we can do here," he said when he reached them, and Frost – who hadn't looked at the victim's body since he'd arrived – looked relieved at the thought of leaving. Jane and Maura shared a gently teasing look, which Frost pretended not to notice, and then Korsak cleared his throat. "Let's get everything back to the labs and see what we can find."
Although it was something she didn't like to talk about, Maura felt much more comfortable in the morgue than up in the bullpen with the others. Down here she was in control; she knew every piece of equipment, every scrap of evidence, every crack in the ceiling. She was perfectly at home among the bodies and the blood specimens and the scalpels, and part of that worried her. The only people who came down to the morgue were usually dead or in search of something, and either way she always knew how to help; but some part of her knew she should make more of an effort to connect with the people around her.
Lately, though, she'd been spending so much time down here that she was beginning to become slightly too comfortable with it. Even Jane usually called or texted before she came down, which meant that Maura was unlikely to be disturbed. She'd taken advantage of this by talking out loud – sometimes to herself, sometimes to the bodies she was examining. It helped her to think, and it made the morgue feel just a little less cold.
"You know," she was telling the victim, who'd been identified as Victoria Langley, "you're the third person who's shown up like this in the space of two weeks." She paused, her scalpel over the woman's sternum. There was something about the letter on her chest that hit home, although Maura couldn't figure out what it was. "Jane thinks it's a serial killer," she went on, starting the autopsy. "She could be right, of course, but why don't we just open you up first and -"
"You know," said an amused voice in the doorway, "you should really buy her dinner first."
Maura pointedly ignored Jane and carried on with her autopsy. In a moment she felt the detective come up behind her, looking over her shoulder – an irritating habit she'd developed lately, but Maura hadn't had the heart to ask her to stop.
"I'm sure she doesn't mind," Maura murmured, her attention fixed on what she was doing. Jane still stood behind her, but she didn't say anything for a long time. Eventually Maura turned to face her, narrowing her eyes slightly. "You're hovering."
"I'm not hovering," Jane said indignantly, but Maura only had to raise her eyebrows for the detective to give up on the ruse. "I'm worried about you," she said bluntly, catching Maura by complete surprise.
"And I'm worried we're not going to find this woman's killer," Maura countered, gesturing at the girl lying on her autopsy table. This time it was Jane's turn to raise her eyebrows, and Maura relented. "For what it's worth, I'm fine," she said, returning to the body. She was almost finished with the autopsy, which was just as well because she had a feeling that Jane wouldn't leave until she gave her something useful. "And I don't know why you'd think otherwise."
Too late, she realized the opening she'd given Jane.
"You were off at the crime scene, and for that matter you've been acting weird for weeks," Jane said promptly, her attention switching almost entirely from the case to Maura. It was a wonder anything got done around here, given how easily Jane could be side-tracked; but then again, once she got an idea in her head she couldn't be dissuaded, and she was single-minded when it came down to tracking down a perp.
"Off?" Maura repeated, closing up Victoria and then pulling off her gloves. "Off what?"
She knew perfectly well what Jane had meant, but she also knew that she didn't want to talk about this. She threw her gloves out and walked over to her computer, hoping Jane would get the hint and leave her alone. But the detective just trailed after her, evidently not ready to give up on this train of thought.
"You know what I mean," Jane said, crossing her arms. She paused, and when she spoke again her voice was softer, almost sympathetic. "You didn't seem like yourself at the crime scene today."
"Of course I was myself," Maura said, trying to keep her voice light, "who else would I be?"
Jane's expression made it clear that she didn't think it was funny. And suddenly Maura had the urge to tell her friend everything, although she didn't know why. It's not like there was even really anything to tell her anyway. It was simply a reaction to prolonged stress and anxiety – and she was the only one who could deal with those. She'd long since grown used to doing things alone, and after everything that had happened recently she didn't feel like she should burden her friends with her petty problems.
"Spill," Jane said sharply, and Maura glanced down at the floor, wondering what she'd spilled. Then she realized what Jane had meant and looked back up at her, embarrassed. "Tell me what's going on," Jane pressed.
Maura tried to turn her attention back to the computer again but Jane reached out and closed the laptop, forcing Maura to look at her. Finally, Maura crumbled. "It's nothing serious," she said. "I've just been having trouble sleeping lately."
Jane's expression softened again, her eyes filled with concern. "What do you mean?"
I'm having nightmares, Maura wanted to say, about Hoyt. About what he did to you. In the dreams, I can't save you. And sometimes - She shook her head. "I have this recurring nightmare," she said, praying Jane wouldn't take it any further. Maura was almost pathologically incapable of lying, but she didn't want to tell her friend about the dreams. If Jane knew how worried Maura really was, she'd only get protective and worried herself – and Maura couldn't do that to her.
As if in answer to her prayers, the morgue door swung open and Frankie walked in. He balked a little as he picked up on the tension in the air, but Maura and Jane both made an effort to pull themselves out of the conversation and dispel some of the tension.
"Do we have anything yet?" he asked, sounding slightly nervous.
Maura smiled at him, letting him know that he wasn't really interrupting anything. "As I was just telling Jane," she said, deliberately avoiding Jane's surprised gaze, "everything I've found is consistent with the first two victims."
Jane and Frankie shared a look, each silently processing what that meant. "So if the same person killed all three of them…" Frankie began, and Jane nodded.
Maura noticed that Jane's hand drifted down to her gun, holstered at her side, and the movement was enough for the scar on her palm to become visible. The doctor turned away, not wanting to get caught up in thoughts like the ones that were pushing at the edges of her mind.
"This is the third victim," Jane said heavily, her hand still resting on her gun. She shared a significant look with the others, and then looked at Victoria's body. "Which means we have a serial killer on our hands."
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Annd, there's the first chapter. Please do fave/follow/review, and I hope to see you all soon for the next chapter.