A/N I don't own anything. At all. Nothing. Don't know what I'd do with it if I did…

prompt: Get's into a cab to find someone else already occupying it

It was a dreary afternoon. It had been raining for four hours straight. Maura Isles, returning resident to Boston after many years abroad, walked out of a Boston Joe's, dumping her wrongly-made coffee into the nearest trashcan. She was on the brink of giving up. So many things had gone wrong in the last two weeks, and giving up kept looking better and better. The coffee, which she had been waiting for for almost a half hour, because it was made wrong twice already, was made wrong for the third time. A small thing normally, pushed her to the brink.

She took a step under the awning to hail a cab. Just as one was pulling up, the awning above her broke, soaking her to the bone. Her arm dropped to her side and she stepped towards the cab. With water in her eyes, she didn't see that the light on top of the cab had turned off. She ripped the door open and plopped into the cab, slamming the door shut.

"Woah, lady!" she heard a husky female voice, "This taxi's already taken!"

Maura wiped dripping wet hair from her face and saw a brunette, equally as wet from the rain, sitting in the seat next to her with wide, confused eyes.

Seeing the other passenger, Maura's heart was crushed for the final time. Sobs wracked her body; tears just streaming down her cheeks.

"That's it! I give up!" The blonde went to get out of the cab.

"Wait, wait, wait!" the brunette held her hands out to grab the blonde woman's arm, "Don't get out, its friggen pouring out there."

Maura settled back into her seat and Jane turned to the taxi driver, "Hey man, take a lap around the Common."

The car set off and Jane turned back to the woman, "What's wrong? An occupied taxi isn't means for tears like this."

Maura dropped her head back against the back of the seat, "This city absolutely, and completely hates me. Every single thing I've tried to accomplish in the past two weeks has failed. The movers took two extra days to move things from my storage unit to my house, leaving me only with what was in my suitcase. The painters painted my front door, and shutters bright red instead of the Bunglehouse Blue SW0048; as per ordered, per specifically ordered; and still forced me to pay for it. The plumbing is, I don't even know. There's brown water just flowing from the shower head. So I haven't showered in three days. Which, I'm used to: infrequent showers is commonplace in the smaller villages of Africa. So it's not terrible. But I start my new job in two days, and I need a proper shower. My car was sideswiped the other day, and the person didn't even bother to leave a note. And once the movers finally got my things to my house, I come to find out that half of my possessions, including my coffee maker, were destroyed in my storage unit from a big storm last year. And then this morning, after another day without a shower, I thought I'd cheer myself up with an overpriced coffee and proceeded to wait in line for near on a half hour, to have it made wrong, THREE fucking times."

As she rambled on, the brunette finally stopped her, "Okay, calm down." she grabbed the blonde's waving hands, "Just because a few things go wrong in two weeks, doesn't mean that you need to write off an entire city. This is a great city, if you give it time."

Maura shook her head with a big sigh, "I was born here, I lived here till I was thirteen, I know the city. It hated me then and it hates me now."

"What do you mean, it hated you then?"

The blonde looked at the other woman completely for the first time in their whole encounter. She was tall, had long, wildly curly brown hair, exquisitely high cheek bones, deep chocolate brown eyes - and as Maura's eyes drifted down her body - …striking long bones. All in all, she was gorgeous. And brash, bold and inquisitive, "Madam, I do not know you, you do not know me, and I highly doubt we'll see each other again. So, tell me, do I need to find another cab, or do you?"

The brunette seemed taken aback for a moment, before her features schooled and she gave the blonde a hard look, "We'll share. And, because you're basically throwing away my good city, we're gonna talk about why you hate it so much."

Maura set her jaw and pursed her lips as she took in the offer. She looked around and saw they were still sitting by the curb. Her eyes traveled back to the brunette, "Fine. Tell me your name."

"Jane."

"Maura."

"Well, Maura, where do you live?"

Her eyes squinted a bit, "Beacon Hill."

The other woman just nodded and looked up to the cabbie, "Beacon Hill, and take the scenic route."

The cab finally started moving and Jane looked back to the blonde, "Start talking."

The next morning, after a fitful sleep, the blonde woke to the sound of scraping against wood. It stopped for a moment, and she wrote it off as some bird or squirrel on the roof.

Now awake, memories from the day before started to come into focus. The usual ten minute drive to Beacon Hill from that coffee house turned into thirty as she spilled her entire life story to a stranger…a very beautiful stranger, named Jane. They talked of her childhood spent in Boston. They talked of her being teased relentlessly by her peers because she was "ugly" and a "nerd" and "boring". They talked of how her mother constantly was on her case about how she looked and dressed and presented herself to the world. Of how her mother and father were nearly out of the picture for a good chunk of her childhood, until she sent away for applications and pamphlets for schools abroad. Of how she spent years away, until she was accepted to Boston Cambridge University for her undergraduate. How she was always teased there too because of the same reasons. Her entire life, she'd never fit in while in Boston. And now, ten years later after medical school, and a few years in Doctors Without Borders, she was willing to try it again for a job. But the city seemed to still have it out for her. She closed her eyes again, trying to remember every feature of the beautiful brunette.

But as the scraping noise started up again and didn't stop, she grew annoyed, "What is that incessant noise?!" Maura growled as she pulled herself from the bed. She grabbed her silk robe and draped it over her tired shoulders and rambled down the stairs. The slight scraping noise grew louder as she drew closer to the front door.

Maura whipped open the door to find a startled Jane, down on one knee, with a paint scraper poised in front of her, and little chips of bright red paint, spattering her arms and cheeks.

"What…what on earth are you doing here? To my door?" Maura asked, confusion writ across her face

Jane sheepishly stood up, wiping the paint from her arms, "Um, well. I didn't want a few bad things change your mind about living in this city. This city is awesome. And the people are awesome. You just haven't met my side of Boston."

"So, you're chipping the paint from my door?"

Jane dropped the scraper in the bucket next to her feet. "Not just that." With a smile, she pulled Maura from the front porch and to the walk.

Leaning against old, beat up saw horses, were a handful of shutters from Maura's windows, no longer red, but a brilliant blue.

"Bunglehouse Blue SW0048?" she whispered in confusion

"I couldn't reach the second floor windows. But my pop has a ladder on his truck and he's coming over later this afternoon."

"Why is your father coming to my house?" that brought Maura from her shock and she turned to Jane.

Jane's sheepish smile grew a bit wider, "My pop happens to be a plumber."

Maura's shoulders sagged a bit with relief.

"One of the best in the city. And!" she squealed as if she just remembered something. She ran to her car and pulled out a box, wrapped in shiny paper and a bow. She held it out to Maura. "I got you something."

Maura slowly tucked her fingers under the wrapping and tore off the paper.

"A new coffee maker?"

"You said your coffee maker was destroyed in your storage unit."

"So you bought me one?" Maura was growing more and more confused by the kindness of a near stranger.

The brunette just shrugged, "I know more than anyone how much it sucks when my coffee maker isn't running. I need it to survive."

"Jane. You barely know me. What on earth would prompt you to buy a coffee maker, paint my shutters, or have your own father fix the plumbing?"

Jane shrugged and looked down at her hands, "I don't know. I just thought you were nice. And I hated to see you so upset yesterday. So, I ran a few errands and got here pretty early. I hoped to have the door done before you got up," she scratched the back of her neck, "I guess that didn't work." She looked up at the confused blonde, seeing the look on her face, and sighed, "This was a terrible idea. I'll put the shutters back up and finish the door and I'll be out of your hair in an hour."

Jane walked over to the saw horses and tested the paint. Seeing it was dry, she picked up a few and started to make her way down the path when she felt a hand on her arm. She turned.

"Don't. Um." Maura stumbled across her words; the first time ever, "Please, stay. I'd really appreciate it."

Within the hour, Jane was finishing up the first coat of paint on the front door, and Jane's Pop was in the basement; finagling with the pipes.

"Jane?"

Jane looked up from her painting and saw Maura, now clad in yoga pants and a tank top, holding two cups of coffee. She held one out and Jane took it with a smile, "I see you got it set up."

Maura just smiled, sipping from her own mug.

Jane took a big gulp and sighed, "Perfection."

She placed the mug on her bucket and picked her brush up again

"Jane?" Maura asked, leaning against the door jam, "May I ask a question?"

"As long as I can ask a question." Jane countered.

"Well, of course."

Jane smiled, "Shoot."

"How did you remember everything? My address, the shade of paint, my coffee maker, the pipes?"

Jane turned towards the blonde with a serious look, "I didn't want you to find out this way…" she paused, "But I've been following you for months. I have all your patterns memorized."

Maura took a step back, eyes wide with worry.

Jane chuckled, "I'm just kidding. I'm a detective, Maura. I can remember scads of information."

Maura pursed her lips, "Any chance you have proof of that?"

"In my jacket." she gestured with her elbow to the light brown jacket hanging over the porch chair. Maura reached into the inside pocket and pulled out a badge on a chain and a wallet.

"Jane C. Rizzoli. Homicide." she nodded with a momentary look of surprise. She schooled her features and looked to the brunette, "What does the 'C' stand for?"

Jane scoffed and shook her head.

"Let's look in the wallet."

Jane's head spun, "No!" she dropped the brush in the paint tray and chased after the scampering blonde back into the house.

"Oh let's see." Maura laughed, opening the wallet.

"No. Maura. Let's not!"

"Clementine?!" she squealed, just as Jane wrapped her arms around the smaller woman. The blonde dropped the badge and wallet and laughed as Jane spun her around the kitchen, littered with pipes and hoses.

Slipping on an unnoticed puddle of water, the two came tumbling down. Jane on her back and Maura straddling her hips; both women laughing loud.

Eyes locking and both realizing the position they were in, they sobered and stared into each others' eyes, the tension in the room growing quite thick.

Clanging came from the stairs off the kitchen and the women scrambled off of each other just as Mr. Rizzoli came into the room, inspecting a piece of PVC pipe in his hand.

When he looked up, he smiled, "Ah, Ms Maura, the piping to the upstairs bath is finished and the water heater is full if you'd like to test out the shower."

Maura groaned in relief and smiled, "Thank you! So much!" She lunged towards the older man and hugged him tightly, "This is the best day I've had in such a long time. I don't know how to repay you."

Frank blushed, "Oh, it's no problem, really. I'm just sorry that the last guys messed everything up."

Maura went to walk from the room, but stopped, "Do I need to wait for you to finish the rest of the work?"

Frank shook his head, "No. That end is its own unit, it won't affect the rest of the work."

Maura squealed with glee and ran out of the room, leaving Mr. Rizzoli and a chuckling Jane in the kitchen.

Jane sat on the front porch, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her father and youngest brother had left a while back, and she felt awkward just sitting in the house while Maura showered and she waited for the door to dry.

It had been a long day. Waking before the sun came up and painting for nearly eight hours. Now, she was waiting for the last coat to dry before she reattached the door. The sun was just about to set when she heard the screen door open behind her.

"I'm glad you didn't leave." Maura spoke, sitting next to Jane. Clad in striped pajama bottoms and a tank top, Maura towel dried her hair

"How was your shower?"

The blonde smiled serenely, "Positively divine."

"Good." Jane nodded, turning back to the sunset.

They sat quietly a moment, watching the sun start to set.

Maura sighed, and spoke, "I just want to say thank you for today, and yesterday. It's the first time, ever, I think, that anyone has done something so nice for me. I owe you a great deal."

Jane looked over at her with a sympathetic smile.

"I have to say, when I saw your badge today, it startled me."

Jane nodded, "Didn't see me as a cop, eh?"

Maura just shook her head, and reached into her pocket, "No. It just made me believe in fate for the first time in my life." she handed a leather wallet to Jane and the detective took it, opening the fold.

"Chief med…" she paused, looking at Maura, then back to the badge, "Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. You're the new ME from Africa that everyone is talking about?"

Maura nodded, "I start the day after tomorrow."

"Wow." she kept looking over the badge, "Dr. Maura D. Isles, MD, PhD." she smirked, "What does the 'D' stand for?"

The blonde chuckled and took the badge back.

"Hey, you know my middle name. I at least should know yours."

Maura stood with a devious smirk, "The paint should be dry by now. Put the door on and come in and find out." she sashayed back through the door, throwing Jane one last wink before disappearing into the house. The detective watched striped pajama covered hips sway into the house and grinned; jumping to finish her task.

A/N Just in case anyone accuses me of stealing whatever, I got the color name and number from the Sherwin Williams website. Not mine, just liked the color.