Crimewave
Intro
Slumbering eyes met sunlight, the intricate metallic leaves floating in circles above fanned away the sun's heat, cooling olive complected skin tangled in a mess of several king sized sheets. The brightness lingered, flowing between the cracks of two downy pillows, stinging a bitter face playfully; an illuminate toddler hugging the mound of an exposed shoulder, running its skinny rays through black tresses cascading over white satin pillows in stark contrast. Abandoning the idea of sleep, brown eyes remained lethargically opened, exposing the root of a pensive stare surrounding two dark voids.
Privacy filled the air and with both arms, one slightly weaker than the other, Jane propped her tall frame high enough to stare out the window adjacent to the bed. A burgundy sleepy stare filled with blue gazing sluggishly out the translucent wall. Lush stony cliffs stood rugged and full under a clear mirroring sky, strong waves crashing against the jagged rocks below. Fighting to reach the towering land above, similar waves crashed behind the pools of her eyes, fighting to reach someplace safe. Daylight was embraced and cherished like gold some mornings, but the optimism was fickle almost random lately. Drifting into thoughtful chaos, she sat imagining the silence of the sea. Embracing the idea of never knowing herself again, drowning today was embraced, the fantasy of death cherished.
A quick tongue entered the room weaving several foreign sentences together fluently. Snapping out of darkness, shaking the sunlight from her face, long legs draped over the messy side of the bed, leaving the neatly made opposite intact. Despite the intrusion of day, the marble tile sent chills up the soles of racing feet eager to reach the adjourning bathroom. Spearmint filled a sleepy mouth, heavy eyes gazing nonchalantly at their reflection. Examining each minute contraction of a pumping arm cleaning even teeth, studying the subtle sway of firm breasts in the mirror- Jane watched a beautiful woman with dark wavy hair follow an average morning ritual hiding nothing behind her shallow stare.
Tainted spearmint disappeared down the neck of a rectangular sink, her gaze seeping over the rim with it. Jane didn't speak or understand Spanish but hung restlessly onto each syllable spoken in the other room. Airport was pronounced in English, glancing at the chandelier sprouting several gold and crystal branches above the bathtub, Jane swallowed subtly examining the spacious bathroom. Resembling the rest of the luxurious villa overlooking the Mediterranean sea, the space was bright from wall sized windows bathing each hall and room in rich sunlight during the day and vivid ivory light at night. Brightness accompanied all hours, eliminating external darkness, a custom home built for a broken patient battling constant darkness-
Jane cringed inwardly.
Patient felt too clinical, there was more to her than that…
She just wasn't sure.
Three square heads embedded into a high stone ceiling came to life with the tap of a mounted tablet, adjusting the settings to mimic a light summer shower; all thought evaporated with the steam drifting upward, clouding all reflection in the mirror. A wet silent stupor followed the passing seconds merging into minutes and then nothing worth keeping track of. Eyes closed, the world became much smaller, more enjoyable. A smile formed naturally over normally tense and unsure lips. Peace soaked her hair and skin, soothing the tense muscles underneath. Jane drifted into the warmth allowing reality to melt away and flow absently down the drain, reverting back into an ill cocoon. She felt selfish all of a sudden convincing herself the recent months would stretch a lifetime. Her body flourished from illness at a remarkable rate, a miracle, doctors called it, that felt more like a curse now.
"I just got off the phone with Angel." The voice entered the shower standing at the vanity. "There's been an outbreak of staphylococcus at Cazares Medical and he needs my help…"
Her words reached defiant ears wanting to be helpless now more than ever. Cazares Medical, Madrid Spain… Jane couldn't escape the words. She stood in darkness wishing they'd stop. "… the hospital filed a lawsuit against a man who lost his wife to an infection caused by unsanitary practice in the OR." Forcing herself to listen, she processed a life was lost, an innocent man's wife dead. The story was horrific and showed no signs of a happy ending. Jane had to understand and avoid falling into her feelings, but compassion wasn't her first impulse.
The lips telling their horrible tragedy belonged with her in Ibiza not with Angel Ramone Cazares in Madrid. "He told his story to the Daily Spain and now Cazares is suing him. It's a PR nightmare. The community is outraged-"
"You're going to Spain." It wasn't a question, but the truth. Angel was fuzzy, appearing only in the early weeks of her recovery, stepping into her room briefly to examine her and then leave. The drugs made it impossible to remember much of him. He was tall with dark hair and eyes, but Jane couldn't recall much else except the bits and pieces she learned after her recovery. A native of Madrid Spain, Angel Cazares co owned a private medical complex in Madrid and two clinics in Ibiza, his family prominent and well known in Spain for their wealth. She realized pretty quickly no one often told him no, and today was no exception.
"Angel is panicking. I have no other choice." Her voice remained steady from the other side of the room, echoing slightly off expensive marble. "He's requesting my help along with several others from varying provinces. We'll be attending a three day meeting in Madrid." The words left polished lips regrettably understanding the impact they had on a woman whose days were filled worshiping them. "My flight leaves today at noon-" Cold air intruded the glass chamber boldly, her voice leading to an apology that wasn't necessary. Brown eyes met reality facing hazel ones shielding a million 'what ifs' behind them.
False reassurance formed a smile on Jane's lips, she had no other choice, Angel had so much power over her. Jane had to be supportive and accept days filled with constant attention and pampering were over. Angel had the world to offer, standing naked and wet, she could never compete with his power. She owned nothing. Not a penny to her name. "Don't worry, I'll be okay. Focus on your work and have fun." Green corrupted the brown in luminous orbs, speaking with eyes more Irish than French that morning. "I'll help you pack."
Jane enveloped the softness of a terrified face with one hand, fighting goosebumps as warm droplets trickled between their skin. Words alone couldn't pull off the charade, they felt weak, she had to touch her. Nuzzling the nook of her palm, she fell quiet kissing the subtle scar on Jane's skin. Nothing sprang to fill a blank mind, Jane watched feeling the electricity travel through a maze of nerves standing erect at the feel of her lips against her hand and fingertips. She kissed each one over and over again. A small sense of familiarity nagged subtly at her. They've done this before, so many times before, way before the attack and Ibiza. Her hand was released as her gentle touch ventured up into a sea of black hair, roaming the healthier parts of her skin. Avoiding the hidden scar embedded into the back of her head, spanning from ear to ear, Jane's eyes became as heavy as her mind staring into a loving face, momentarily erasing the memory of the trauma embedded into her flesh. "You're dressed." Her voice reminded hoarsely clinging weakly onto reality, "Your flight leaves at noon."
A PR nightmare placed in the same hands cradling the dark head they adored. Executive lips parted, a pair charming enough to persuade Madrid to forgive Cazares Medical, and answered softly, "My flight can wait." Manicured fingertips followed the curve of her jawline and traveled down her neck, digging pristine fingernails into wet skin. A summer shower forgotten, Jane fought back a shiver stepping out completely, capturing a wanting woman, tasting her supple mouth. Two fingers warmed her front, teasing a taunt nipple languidly, a pace matching the unhurried lips brushing against her own. Ignoring the looming deadline, Jane lost herself in the security of the lips latched softly onto her mouth, gasping when they pulled away. "I want to scrub your back. Te gusta?"
"You already showered."
"No gusta?"
Her lips curled into a smile against Jane's mouth welcoming the large hands unclasping the back of her dress. The expensive material pooled around thin heels that kicked the dark fabric aside. Embracing Jane's face with hands eager to reclaim the depths of her hair, a green stare gazed up into dark eyes whispering, "I love you." Jane hooked long fingers underneath the waistband of her nude stockings, kneeling down with an upward stare. Maura Isles stood between the palms of her hands, Madrid far from the eyes devouring her silently. They closed briefly at the feel of her hands running up the length of her legs, brushing the inside of her thighs, tasting her soft abdomen, Jane stood fully cupping her soft skin, closing the distance between their hips. Watching the heat stir in light eyes, Maura hummed into her mouth as their lips met again, a sweet sound caused by bold hands luring her into the shower, closing the glass door behind them.
The world felt usual again naked and still with Maura under a synthetic summer shower. Jane could breathe easier in the steam erasing all outside obligations. Madrid and Cazares no longer felt important as the water darkened blonde hair, plastering each neat strand to her melting face. "You're beautiful." She laughed and Jane smiled brushing the wet hair out of her eyes. The ink and powdery makeup melted away revealing skin less intimidating and more vulnerable now.
"Come to Madrid with me." Slender hands roamed up and down her naked sides, burning nervous energy. The medical director of two Cazares clinics stared up with hopeful childlike eyes, her hands restless against tall skin. "Come with me." She murmured against her wet collarbone and neck, softly tasting the skin there.
"I can't." The idea of leaving the safety of their home made her eyes fog with a fear she didn't understand. She continued kissing her shoulder and neck, teasing the skin bellow her bellybutton with her fingers. Jane felt far away from her lips, becoming detached completely all of a sudden. Anyone else would jump at the chance to explore a thriving city with the woman they loved, she felt the impact of her trauma suddenly hit her hard. Angel was waiting for her, waiting to spoil her, would they explore the city together? "Maur," she breathed feeling her lips brush over her breast, her body unable to stay in her thoughts any longer, it focused on the thigh she felt nestle between her legs causing her hips to jerk.
"Yes love?" Maura responded with hooded eyes taking her lips before they could answer, teasing her mouth with her tongue, her hands gently grasping slim hips, encouraging them to move faster against her. Jane couldn't think through the array of arousal and pleasure circulating throughout her body. The woman sucking down her neck, stroking her nipple, moving seductively between her legs- all thought stopped replaced with crashing waves of euphoria. Turning her head away, her nails dug into Maura's back, breathing quickly behind closed eyes. The world was left behind, a feeling out of this world as her hips pumped more urgently against the woman she loved, encouraging her to thrust harder and fast, sucking less kindly on her shoulder and neck until she felt her body tense swallowing back her cries, swallowing down the urge to repeat her name over and over again. Jane came almost silently her breathing uneven and shaky, body quivering against loving arms supporting her against the wall. "I'm sorry." She heard herself murmuring trying to calm her racing body. "About Madrid."
"Don't be." She spoke heavily with arousal her breathing slightly uneven. "We'll go as soon as you're ready." A kiss at the corner of her stoic mouth followed the promise, brown eyes peered lazily noticing a reminisce of concern lingering as she pulled away. "Turn around, querida." Beloved, the corner of Jane's lips flickered into a smile more unsure than content as she obeyed, moving with heavy limbs to face the wall. "I will take you anywhere in the world. London, Melbourne, Tokyo-"
"New York?" Her words were coming from nowhere without thinking. The soapy hemp thread came to a brief halt against her back. In silent contemplation, Maura began making circles on her back concentrated on the vast expanse of skin, cleaning every inch of her from behind. Jane gave up on an answer after several minutes passed. Feeling closed lips on the nook of her neck and shoulder, Maura kissed her several more times before surprising her with a response, "Anywhere, querida." She murmured softly in her ear, running her lips along her neck and shoulder repeatedly, pausing at the sound of a ringing phone. "They can wait." Elegant fingers glided along taunt skin, returning Jane to meet eloquent eyes dazed and far away. "You're more important." Maura decided silencing Jane with her lips, choosing her mouth over business, call after call stretched the minutes, demanding her presence as unabashedly as the medical director's crouching knees on the wet granite floor.
Jane's mouth parted again, not to speak, only to breathe quick and quietly, her head tilted up. Several tiny holes filled her vision, watching the water fall, Maura lost herself between her legs using her lips and hands hastily between her thighs, tasting her weakness for her. Jane reached out for the nearest wall feeling her circling tongue become more demanding. Drowning in emotion and pleasure, a euphoric mixture that caused her to bite down on her bottom lip, her free hand reached down unsteadily to find blonde hair. Green eyes looked up knowing the human body well, spending years memorizing the maze of veins and arteries, pumping organs, the DNA makeup of blood, cells and their many types- Heavy eyes remained on the woman they loved drifting farther and farther away, Maura boldly stared up enjoying her jerking hips against her sweet mouth, wanting to hear her scream as she entered her with two fingers. Jane braced herself against the wall desperately trying to keep her balance as she rose somewhere else behind closed eyes, finally breaking her silent gasps and crying out against a third finger pumping in and out of her, a strategic trio turning her limbs into a quivering mess. Jane repeated her lover's name over and over again encouraging Maura to take her harder and faster against the wet granite wall. Clenching tightly onto a fist full of hair, she pried hungry lips away from her pulsating body trying to swim through the waves drowning her. Soft arms wrapped around her, Jane whimpered and buried her face into herbal scented skin, inhaling her ceremoniously. "Please stay." Her muddled brain managed through the chaos. "Don't leave."
"I can't." Jane melted deeper against her, relaxing more limply, remaining quiet instead of bitter. Hearing the 'why' in the silence, Maura answered with soothing hands kneading her naked back, massaging resentment out of rigid muscles. "Angel needs my help. Mi amora," her voice softened sweetly kissing her face and neck. "I'll be home in three days, back in your arms, back in our late morning shower for my late morning taste of you." Her lips brushed her shoulder again, murmuring softly, "I'll be home soon and it'll be like I never left."
The end of the morning approached with each silent tick of the mounted clock. Jane watched the frenzy of Maura preparing for Madrid from the cushioned alcove window. Sitting with her head against the wall, she followed straying green eyes to the time on the wall every five minutes. The loving words from earlier felt more like a dream now. The ringing phone now acknowledged, answered, and nestled closely against her face, Spanish leaving her lips as she walked back and forth from the closet to the bed assembling another outfit. Was a fifth dress really necessary for a three day trip? Counting each item folded into her suitcase was as torturous as watching the clock, her body turned away from the bedroom seeking the window, finding the sea, and watching the waves. Her mind drifted for a moment, remembering being too weak to sit at the alcove alone, unable to cross the room without help, dependent on the woman preparing to leave for every little thing. Following the early months of being discharged from the rehab facility that had become both their home for several months, Maura's everyday life revolved around the mundane tasks her body was physically incapable of doing on its own . Unconsciously she reached up under a curtain of dark hair, fingers grazing the scar hidden beneath.
Shattered open from the force of a bullet, her scalp was cut open further during surgery, all memory of the attack gone along with the rest of her life. At first, she couldn't tell the doctors her name or birthday, talking difficult in itself. Maura was always there answering questions and filling in blanks. They were on vacation in New York City, later she'd find out on their honeymoon, Jane was attacked by at least three men while visiting her youngest brother in Brooklyn. Unable to put a face to the name Maura provided, she only knew the name Thomas Rizzoli as the main suspect in her attack. A man bad off on drugs who, according to cell phone records, reached out to her late at night begging for help. Unable to refuse his plea, Jane left the hotel around four in the morning leaving Maura asleep in bed. She took a taxi to her brother's apartment and found him high on crystal meth and heroin. The neighbors reported gun fire, the police found her sprawled out in a pool of her own blood, abandoned and robbed by Thomas Rizzoli and his friends. The medical odds of survival were non existent, she died twice in the hospital, surprising the medical experts and herself by surviving. She sat in awe every time she reflected on Maura's words. Maura, the only person waiting in the hospital for her, crying and praying, promising anything to have her back alive. Kissing her unconscious body over and over again, challenging the doctors that brought up the probability of her emerging as a vegetable or possibly never opening her eyes again.
"What's wrong?" Jane met a green stare full of concern on the verge of panic. "Are you in pain?" She dropped her hand, forgetting it was there in the first place, and shook her head 'no.'
"I was just thinking about my brother. Thomas," his name came out awkwardly, strange and foreign to both of their ears. "I want to remember what happened that night. Why he-"
"Querida, Mi amora, why reflect on that horrible night when it's so beautiful outside?" She kissed her forehead and moved to sit with her on the alcove, settling between her legs; Jane wrapped her arms around her from behind holding her close as they watched the traveling waves together.
"Maybe If I remembered the attack I'd remember everything else... like my parents," her thoughts broke the comfortable silence, confused and slightly frustrated. "I'd like to remember them and my other brother, Frankie? I'd like to remember him too. Do you think they live in New York also? Maybe if we went back I'd remember where to find them. Maybe I'd remember you, the first time we met- I hate not knowing. Sometimes I hate… everything."
Maura's fingers idly made circles on her arm voicing the memories gone from her own mind, "They were bad to you Jane, your mother, father, Frankie- they all lived like Thomas and despised you for breaking away to work as police dispatcher. You fell in love with me and rarely spoke of them. They weren't involved in your life when we met, sweetheart. I'd move the heavens if it made you happy, but contacting your family is too dangerous. Your memories will return one day without them getting involved. Until then I'll answer any question you have, we can share my memories and create new ones to cherish, but we can't go back to New York. Anywhere else but please my love, not there."
Jane Rizzoli, dispatcher for the Boston Police department, disowned by her drug abusing family, a band of people who shared her name and blood, but wanted nothing to do with her and vice versa. The idea of it made her chest swell, she could cry but it didn't feel worth the effort. They were just strangers now. They didn't matter. "Lets just stay here." She held Maura close releasing the fantasy of New York, a dangerous and painful place she'd stay away from. Ibiza was safe and beautiful, an ocean away from her family, a wish, Maura once told her, she often prayed for, later given to her in the form of a gold ring wrapped around her finger. Rizzoli finally replaced with Isles, it was another wish granted by the love resting against her chest. 'Jane Clementine Rizzoli Isles,' she often wondered about her middle name, was she named after a relative? She'd never know but her middle name wasn't important. The water mirrored a clear blue sky inviting seagulls to dive in and break the surface with fish in their beaks, a sight she enjoyed from the alcove of the window with her wife nestled closely in her arms.
Stirring against her chest, a wry touch tickled her jaw. The sun remained high, but seemed softer now, the day losing its productive zeal. Groggy eyes struggled to emerge from sleep, a golden crown bringing a lazy smile to her lips; the errand strands of blonde brushing her neck and face with each subtle breath her wife took against her. Plushy clouds beneath their bodies lined the alcove under panes of sunny glass, a powerful sedative luring both women to sleep. The ticking clock was inaudible but it suddenly boomed as consciousness filled reality. Maura rose from her chest, the comfort leaving both of them as their afternoon nap unraveled into a mistake banging on the front door. "Who is that?"
A black Rolls Royce sat in the driveway, running without a driver. Hidden from their view upstairs, the man absent from the vehicle struck the door more violently. "Who is that?" Maura turned her frozen head in her direction, her French eyes pale, the beauty of the day gone from them. Tropical sunlight filled their elegant bedroom highlighting a fear in her face Jane felt creep inside her bones. "Maur-"
"Follow me downstairs and do exactly as I say. Put your shoes on," several questions appeared, everything began moving in slow motion as Maura unlocked the table near their bed, removing a black pistol inside. "Sweetheart please get your shoes on." The banging downstairs became louder, more persistent and angry. Maura's tone remained steady under crumbling control, her eyes turning wild with a gun firmly in hand waiting for her to move.
Jane stood from the alcove, tearing away from the warmth. She put on a pair of Nike's found near the bed with shaking hands. "Follow me," Maura spoke quietly almost whispering, her tone strained like each fallen step bringing them into the bright hallway. A male voice kept yelling using the force of his entire body to get inside.
"Angel is dead! Angel is fucking dead if you don't open this fucking door you whore fucking bitch!"
They all act the same. These big guys who think they're so bad with their douchey badass bravado. I got news for them, ma, they're all equally shitty and their crimes are identical to the ones I lock up the day before. I hear the same shit from these drug dealing murdering dirt bags. Oh and I love it when they grab their crouch at me. It's reallll original. Jane stopped. Holding onto the banister at the top of the stairs, she swallowed hard hearing her voice inside of her head. The man outside became more violent threatening to kill Maura's long time friend and boss Angel, the force of his body echoing throughout the villa.
Janie I begged you to do something more pleasant… like teaching! You always loved telling your brothers what to do. Teaching would be good for you. I don't know why you choose to deal with street thugs and serial killers. It's too dangerous and I worry about you every day- ALL DAY and night. These loonies you put up with are capable of anything- If you were a teacher I'd have less gray hair. I blame you for half the gray on my head. Tommy and Frankie make up the other fifty but you Janie are half my daily worries.
Ma I know what I'm doing but I'll start buying your hair dye from now on if it makes you feel better. I know you'll never stop worrying. All the police training in the world couldn't get you to stop but take a break for a minute and hug me because I have to go. Your boyfriend is calling wondering where the hell I'm at.
Maura grabbed onto her wrist urging her to move. Her face became a water color painting beautiful but indistinguishable, Jane only saw a silhouette through the tears building in her eyes. "Where are you trying to take me now?" She felt a bitterness fill her mouth as her stomach twisted into tight knots forcing her to the ground. Catching a glimpse of two identical scars on her palms before darkness filled her world, Charles Hoyt was responsible, a serial killer who pinned her to the ground shoving a scalpel through both her hands in the basement of an abandoned house in Boston. Boston, she was born and raised in Boston by her parents Angela Rizzoli and Frank Rizzoli sr, her father owned a plumbing business and her mother stayed at home with them.
"Open the fucking door Maura or he's fucking dead!" His voice became louder and more familiar, she saw herself yelling back at him in a dimly lit room, a large desk separating them. She didn't like him- he was spoiled and cocky, walked around with a boasting smirk, and addressed everyone at the station condescendingly.
"Jane please you have to listen to me," her hands were on her body again, urging her to move, listen but she couldn't hear a word over her racing thoughts. She sobbed into the darkness of her scarred palms fighting back an overwhelming wave of nausea. "Jane please get up Jane baby please move."
Light returned filling her blurry vision with Maura's pale face, she held tightly onto her wrists, preventing them from going back to her face, and spoke hysterically close to her. Jane shook her head unable to stand anymore. Everything was too much, the world she knew and loved was never hers to begin with, their love was a cruel illusion and a final bullet to the brain would be more bearable. "Tell him to fucking kill me… I don't care anymore."
"Jane please-"
"Jane please what?!" She demanded staring into a helpless face she wanted to both hurt and protect. But that was their dynamic, the cruel conflicted feeling bubbling inside of her also felt familiar. A fresh wave of nausea followed the thought, one stronger than the last, Jane leaned away afraid, dizzy, and angry. Maura was both pain and bliss, love and hate, seductress and suspect, life and death. Slender hands returned to soothe her sick body but she tried to escape them moving as far away as possible. It felt useless, the situation helpless. Maura shook as violently as the mobster threatening to kill them. Jane caught a glimpse of metallic black out of the corner of her eye and reached out for it. Covering the black metal with her wide palm, folding outstretched fingers firmly around the gun, her breath caught at the familiar sensation. "He won't hurt you." Her voice was a tremor lacking any doubt, long legs stood unsteady at first, but then strengthened with the adrenalin filling her blood. Maura's pleading screams couldn't pierce the blank void in brown eyes, Jane grasped the brass handle, opened the front door and raised the gun to a strawberry blonde face. The shot echoed and the outside world swirled into several fading colors as the wind struck her face cruelly. Pain rushed hot under her skin and through the blood spreading up down her limbs. Following a narrow trail down the elevated terrain, Jane collapsed on the hard dusty ground under several lush tree tops unable to breathe through the scream ripping through her lungs. Unable to breathe easily, she struggled for breath until enough time passed, allowing her to cry quietly under a clear blue sky. Muscles tight against the earth, the present and future paused as her body wept, remembering the horrific truth of a past she begged her mind to stop.